#Pages In A Book (Drabble)

[mushroompollution]

Part 1: Judge

Maybe it was Glen's influence, maybe it was Vincent's as a Child of Misfortune, but they had managed to walk through the crater without being blinded by the illusions of the past created by Sablier's black haze.

Still, the journey had been a long and arduous one.

The shambling, agonized victims of the city's abyssal energy had kept them on their toes, though the mutants were hardly a match for Glen. Even in Leo's untrained body, his hand had swiftly ended their suffering with the sword he had taken from Elliot.

The ground trembles beneath their feet with every chain that breaks above and around them. The fragile cliffs and falling debris of the crater had incapacitated Duke Barma, leading Glen to question his alliance. Why hadn't he summoned his Black-winged Chain to protect himself, hm?

And then, well.

Then, there were only two.

As Glen and Vincent continue, the atmosphere of the crater abruptly changes. Vincent comes to a sudden halt, feeling the world seem to ripple around him like a heat mirage. Glen glances over his shoulder, narrowing those starry eyes.

"You aren't getting cold feet now, are you?" comes his indifferent voice.

Those conversations he'd had online echo in Vincent's head, turning his stomach. His chest burns with indignation and embarrassment at his breakdown. He shakes his head. "I. Haven't. I can't. I've destroyed everything around me, my whole life. So I can never back out of this wish," he professes.

Glen's expression sends a shiver down his spine. "Then I will make your wish come true," he takes another step and Vincent follows, like a dog at its handler's foot. "First, lend me your power, Vincent. I will need your help as a Child of Misfortune."

Two more steps forward, and that rippling atmosphere becomes oppressive. Vincent's hair stands on end. But Glen seems unphased as he walks ahead. Another two steps, and that distortion disappears as the scenery changes.

No longer are they standing in the empty, rocky chasm of Sablier. Instead, the pair enter into a grand, circular chamber, surrounded by towering, ornate arches. A massive double-doored Gate stands before them.

Of course, Vincent knows this place. The salon of the Sablier Abyss Gate, the only thing left of the Baskerville estate that had once stood on these grounds. The same place where he and Leo had been ejected after escaping that other world in Jabberwock's claws.

But it feels different now, somehow.

Glen calls out for Jury to appear, and Vincent blinks in surprise. Before he can question, however, he feels the air nearby begin to distort once again. A black haze rises up through the stone floor, swirling as it comes together into the form of the ancient, hunched figure of the eldest Baskerville.

Vincent feels his stomach twist. He'd always avoided that decrepit figure, always felt his hair stand on end around them. One hundred years ago, they were there. Taking Gilbert away for days at a time for his lessons and training as the future Glen. Vincent would sit and wait for his return. Gil always seemed a little different after those lessons. But he never once told his brother what they entailed.

Back then, Vincent had always been kept at an arm's length. From Glen, from the other Baskervilles, from the truth. He had never been told what future awaited Children of Misfortune like him. He had never been told a lot of things.

Now, Vincent takes a step back from Glen's side as he converses with that ancient figure.

"You are aware of the situation, correct?" Glen asks Jury. "At this rate, the world will be destroyed. We don't have time to worry about the Core. I must wrench open the door leading into the past."

Jury tilts their head to the side. Those empty, hollow, watchful eyes bore into the man before them. "In order to do that, I will need to consult with the others."

It's not that statement that chills Vincent to the core so much as it is the surprised trepidation on Glen's face.

"The...Others?"

Vincent's never heard such uncertainty to that man's voice. He almost sounds more like the young man whose body he wears.

Jury's head tilts further yet. Those hollow eyes seem to glow beneath their hooded robe as they watch from an impossible angle.

"Yes.... I will need to ask the other Juries how the Story should continue."

Before Glen can ask what they mean, Jury's form seems to fall apart. Their head falls to the side as a viscous, black fluid oozes from beneath their robes.

And then, Jury explodes.

The ground trembles violently beneath their feet, and a wave of that oppressive energy takes Vincent's breath from his chest. There's a wooshing sound as that wave of energy passes through the chamber, and the colors of the world seem to invert, their surroundings painted black.

"What the hell is going on?!" Vincent gasps. But Glen stands tall as he can in Leo's small body, watching as the black varnish of the void begins to crack.

"This dimension is being distorted..." he remarks.

The void crumbles and cracks, falling away to reveal a different chamber. The walls seem to stretch, growing upwards, reaching for the black skies above as shards of reality rain down on the two below. A long, crooked staircase rises from the ground, growing, step by step, as the Gate moves further and further away. A witness box blocks a landing two-thirds of the way to the top.

Inside his soul, watching helplessly, Leo gasps. "this is... a courtroom," he remarks.

"That's right," comes Levi's amused voice behind him. The previous Glen kneels beside Leo, a smirk on his lips and a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "So I wonder.... Who exactly is going to stand trial?"

[savage-rhi]

Magensia?

[kingbyx]

Little Cathy what a dream, held her hand and made her scream.

—

Stanford was stood, somehow even more anxiously than usual, in front of his locker. Class had only ended a few minutes before, but it was Friday and the school was already pretty much empty.

Still, a handful of students hung around to talk to friends, make plans, collect things from their locker for the weekend, and, apparently, consider every life choice that had led them to the current moment.

That is what Ford was doing. Standing at his open locker with his hands shoved deep in his pockets (as they often were at school) despite having nothing more he needed to get from it, and questioning his life.

His brother, Stanley, stood next to him. An obnoxious smile on his face as he nudged him away from his locker and tilted his head towards the other side of the hall.

“It’ll be fine Sixer, just go!” Stan said, winking in an exaggerated manor. With a sign, Ford complied. Taking his time to lock his locker, ensure his bag was zipped and his hands were hidden in his pockets, he took the five steps down the hall to where Cathy stood at her locker.

You see, the terrified Ford had a good reason to be scared.

He had a crush.

Stanford had never like a girl before, though he had understood it was expected of him by the age of 15 to have such feelings for the opposite sec.

Cathy was different though, he actually wanted to talk to someone other than his brother for once! She was cool, and confident, but smart like he was, one of the top students in their year. She was brilliant in mathematics, and though she wasn’t against sports she never seemed overly enthusiastic about them.

She was a lot like Ford, but more, he wished he could have her confidence as she walked down the halls without fear. When he had explained to Stan his conflicting emotions, he had immediately jumped to tease him for his crush.

Though he hadn’t thought to label it himself, he was now convinced that’s what it was. Why else would he want to talk to her? Clearly, it was the only good explanation.

Stan had given him the plan- to ask her if she wanted to go for a walk and check out the new ice cream shop that had opened by the beach- and so here he was. Standing by the locker of his crush with sweaty palms hidden in his pockets and what was certainly a terribly awkward smile on his face, no matter how normal he tried to force it to be.

Before he could open his mouth to get the first word in, Cathy looked up and beat him to it.

“Oh, hey. Pines, right?”

His eyes widened in alarm. This was not going to plan! He had a weather appropriate conversation starter ready and everything! He panicked, stumbling over words as he tried to return her greeting.

“Ye- yes, that’s uh, that’s me! Ford- uh, Stanford Pine’s. You might know my brother Stanley, he talks to many people- uh, I think! And you are Cathy- you’re- you’re the only other tenth grader in my advanced physics class.” He stopped himself, laughing anxiously, that was terribly awkward even by his standards. An that bar may as well have been in hell with how low it was.

Cathy, completely defying his expectations again, laughed at his awkwardness. But it didn’t feel targeted like it usually did- she was laughing with him, not at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember you. You sit right by the front, you’re very smart, always happy to answer questions- even when the teacher hadn’t asked them.” Her posture was relaxed as she spoke, a light smile on her face as she laughed at her own joke, most people were tense as they spoke to him. Whether in fear or anger it didn’t matter, they often came together.

“You seemed very smart as well, it was so exciting to see another person my age in that class with me.” Cathy agreed with him again, this was going shockingly well! He almost wasn’t sure how to proceed after such a turn of events, but he forced himself to push forward.

“Oh, uh, any- anyways,” the awkward stutter forced itself back into his mouth, and he had been doing to well too, shit! “I was wondering, if- of maybe you wanted to go check out that new ice cream shop that opened by the beach? I was, uh, meant to go with my brother, but he had plans, and I thought it would be- it would be nice to get to know you. You seem really cool, and confident, and smart- and, and-“

“I’d love to, Ford. You seem pretty cool too. Do you have anything after school or do you just want to go now, it’s not far to the beach if we go through the bush, it’s a beautiful walk too.”

Ford was all smiles and red cheeks as he happily accepted, quickly asking Stan to tell their parents where he went, and assure them he wouldn’t do anything dumb.

The walk was beautiful, and they got to the beach in nearly half the time Fords planned route would have gotten them. He made sure to remember the shortcut.

She never once asked about the fact that he kept his hands firmly in his pockets the whole time. She knew about his fingers, of course she did- the whole school did, though only the bullies really brought it up, he knew that most were aware of his defect. That they, even if they didn’t say it, thought he was weird.

Cathy was different though, she was smart like him, and she didn’t care about his fingers. It was perfect, she was perfect.

It was a short but nice walk down the road to find the little hut with the shiny new ice cream logo, advertising new and classic flavours and all sorts of add ons.

“What are you gonna get?” He asked as they got closer, standing at the back of the short line. Gesturing with his head towards the large sign above the counter with the many flavours displayed.

“Hmmm, not sure, I might be boring and try their vanilla though, it’s one of my favorite flavours.” She replied.

“That’s not boring at all!” He said, “vanilla is a wonderful flavour. You should try the French vanilla, it’s always better than regular, that’s why it’s my favorite flavour besides cotton candy.”

“Cotton candy? Not what I was expecting from you Ford.”

“My brother always said it was a strange choice aswell, but he thinks most of what I do is strange- even when it’s something as simple as studying for a test!”

Cathy laughed, and so did Ford. It was nice.

They got to the front of line line and ordered- Cathy with a waffle cone of French vanilla and Ford with a basic cone of Cotton Candy- and walked towards the beach to enjoy their treats.

The sun was still high in the sky, parents and children ran along the beach laughing and playing as Cathy and Ford talked. Not dressed for water, they stayed back from the waves, but they did end up taking their shoes off to enjoy the warm sand.

Ford, without really noticing, kept one of his fingers somewhat tucked away beneath the rest as he held him cone. Cathy didn’t seem to care about his mutation, but it was habit.

By the time they had finished their ice cream, the sun was nearly beginning to set, and the beach around them was void of people- they had walked past the busiest sections and into the lesser used, quiet areas.

“We should get heading back, my parents want me home by 7,” Cathy said, and Ford nodded his agreement before turning around, “I’m sure my parents feel the same,” he said. They began walking back towards busier areas of the beach.

They continued to speak as they walked, about school, friends, the future, books they liked, whatever came to mind. Ford kept his hands in his pockets again, but Cathy let hers swing freely at her sides.

There was maybe… 10 minutes of walking before they got back to the most popular areas of the beach, when Ford felt suddenly brave.

Cautiously, he pulled his hands from his pocket and brought it to Cathy’s the next time it swung by. Their hands brushed in a silent question.

Without stoping talking, her hand grabbed his. His fingers curled around hers, glad his sudden bravery had payed off, when Cathy suddenly went still beside him.

She looked down at their hands, fingers sliding across his own until she was holding his hand up and in front of her face.

His other hand came up to do- well, he wasn’t sure what exactly, but something- and seeing his other hand, was the straw that broke the camels back, the confirmation that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Dropping his hand, Cathy screamed.

—

A little over an hour later, Stanford stumbled into his brothers bedroom. Stanley was sat on his bed, struggling through over due homework that he hated doing, probably forced by their parents. He looked up at his brother as he entered, a smile on his face, but it fell quickly when he saw him.

Ford met himself fall onto the bed beside him, quickly gathered into a side hug.

“I thought it was going well?

He simply shook his head no.

Later, he would explain what happened. How Cathy had been terrified- probably the only person in the school who hadn’t know about his fingers- and how a kind older woman had heard her scream and came running. She had thought Ford was some predator, assaulting young girls on the beach.

He had booked it, hearing Cathy explaining the situation behind him. He wasn’t sure exactly what she said- if it was positive or negative. He had no idea how she really felt- logically, he knew it was probably just shock- but his heart refused to listen to logic.

Cathy though he was a freak- a monster, just like the rest of him.

It wasn’t the time for all of that though. Now, it was the time to return his brothers hug and to help him with his homework.

Stanley would always be there for him.

[northernattude]

The Shepherd’s all sat around the tree, their small piles of treasures they had just unwrapped sitting beside them. Christopher sat in front of the tree, handing out gifts to his children as he did every Christmas, the wrapping paper scattered amongst them. Most of the gifts had been opened already, minus two. Liz was seated on the ground in front of her sister Kathleen, looking through the albums the Derek and their mom had gotten for her, trying to pick out which one she would be listening to while she got ready for Christmas dinner at Grandma and Grandpa Shepherd's.

"Okay Ames, you ready for the big one?" Derek helped his father move the large box over to wear the most adorable little girl sat, waiting for her turn to open her gift. Carolyn sat beside her daughter on the couch, the camcorder in her hand recording the look on her 5 year olds face as she tore the paper off the box. Christopher helped his daughter with the paper, faking a gasp as the Barbie Dreamhouse was revealed. The older kids played along, even Kathleen who was only a few years older than little Amelia. They made a big deal over how cool her present was, and the girl seemed delighted, begging her father to put it together.

"Lizzie, I think this one back here is for you." The brunette stood, walking over towards where her father was standing. His hand rested on her shoulder as she reached behind the tree, grasping for something that was much too large to grab with one hand. She reached back with her other, gasping as she pulled the matte black acoustic guitar case out from behind the tree.

"No way!" She jumped up and down, hugging the new gift to her chest, both arms wrapped tightly around the neck before she moved quickly back to her own spot, flipping open the clasps excitedly. "Is it Derek's old one?" Lizzie was used to hand me downs, she had been getting Nancy's for years, and she didn't mind. But when she opened the case, there was a beautiful dark wood acoustic guitar sitting inside the plush velvet of the case.

"Nope, that one is all yours. That way your brother can have his back." Christopher clapped Derek on the shoulder good naturedly, the younger man grinning at his father and sticking his tongue out at his younger sister. Liz held back the urge to stick her middle finger up at her brother, not wanting to ruin the mood. She gently touched the strings, making them chime out softly.

She pulled the instrument into her lap, tentatively strumming before starting to play the opening chords to "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight" by James Taylor, one of her favorite artists and one that her dad had introduced her to. She sang along as she played, missing a few notes but still singing a good bit of the song. Once it was done, she placed the guitar back in the case carefully, closing the clasps once more and standing up, throwing herself into her father's arms. She squeezed tight, letting him hold her in his arms like she were Amelia's age all over again.

"Thank you daddy." She pressed a kiss to his cheek before he let her down and she went to hug her mother as well, feeling her squeeze gently and let her go. "I'm gonna take this stuff up to my room." She gathered all of her new treasures, including her new guitar and made her way up the stairs carefully, moving into the room she shared with Nancy, at least until the end of the year when she left for college. She placed the guitar in her closet, letting her hand ghost over the top of it.

MANY YEARS LATER

The door closed behind her as she got home from another shift at the hospital, her shoulders definitely feeling the weight of the emotions currently running through her mind. She had found herself in the ER today, finally having to face the music and do a consult for one of April's patients. She had turned to make her exit when she had been stopped in her tracks, looking at Megan from just outside of trauma one. It had been hard, to walk away and pretend she felt nothing when she felt everything.

The jingle of a collar broke her out of her stupor, watching as Bluebell, or Bluey as her youngest had declared when they had brought her home, came to greet her. She finally smiled, squatting down and giving the dog some attention. "Hey Belly girl." Her daughter had texted her that she had taken the dog out and headed to work.

She toed off her shoes at the door and hung her coat in the closet, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom. The dog followed her inside and hopped up onto the bed immediately, just as she did most nights Liz was home. Once the door closed behind her, she flopped on the bed, sighing into the mattress. She turned her head, looking at the golden retriever with a tired look. "You should be so glad you're a dog. Human emotions are exhausting." She laid there a few more moments, until she knew that she would surely fall asleep if she stayed there.

She stood from the bed, moving to the en suite bathroom to start the process of getting unready. She shed her clothes and got into the shower, letting the water run over her tired bones, the steam clearing her senses and help her breathe just a bit easier. She stayed in just long enough for her skin to being to pucker, wrapping herself in her towel and going back into her room.

She dried off, and went to pick out her outfit, a pair of lounge pants and another ridiculous sweatshirt Lucas had gotten her for Christmas, this one had a picture of a raccoon that said 'it is what it is and it isn't great'. And that's when she saw it, sitting in the darkest corner of her closet, the last present her father gave to her. That Christmas had been 4 months before Christopher Shepherd was killed, and the last time she remembered being the family that they had been before. Now it was the after and everything was so fucked up.

She pulled it out, placing it gently on the bed, but not opening it. As if it were a ghost. As if opening it would open Pandora's box and release the spirits and demons of her past. She stared at it for what seemed like hours but in reality was maybe 3 minutes before she finally undid the clasps and opened it.

It was gorgeous and beautiful and untouched for years and years. But she couldn't seem to get rid of it. She toted it from place to place, across the country but didn't dare open it. She picked up the instrument, running her fingers over the front before she climbed on the bed, crossing her legs and settling into the pose her body had long forgotten.

She tentatively tried a chord. And then another. And another. And once she was sure it was in tune, once that muscle memory was back, she flipped through her phone, quickly searching for the chords she needed. And once she looked it over, she began to strum the chords to 'She's So High' by Tal Bachman, letting the music fill the air as she sang along with herself, missing some notes here and there, completely going off book at one point when she forgot which chord came next.

"She's so high, like Cleopatra or Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite." she sang, a certain woman floating into her mind as she sang and strummed the guitar, finally feeling a little bit of light in her soul. When it was over, she felt light and heavy all at once. She place the instrument back in the case and looked up at the ceiling, tears welling in her eyes.

"You left and we fell apart...this would have never happened if you were here." And that's when she broke down, in her bedroom, curled into the fetal position. The dog snuggled in, resting her head next to her owner, as if she knew she needed her.

If Christopher had never died, if no one had shot him, Amelia never once would have felt alone, they wouldn't have been so nasty and she would never feel like her heart was ripped from her chest like this.

But he did, and she did. And now she had to live with it all.

[cosmicofdistortions]

@kitxkatrp asked: Send 🔮 to look into my muse's past. (Verter)

"Ah! I'm going to be late!" The male had only happened to glance over at the clock, narrowly catching the time while he was composing himself for the day ahead.

It was his ascension to head of the clan. It was also the day he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him. Verter was an energetic but shaken mess of excitement to anyone that laid eyes on him that morning.

With a bright smile after he fixed his outfit one more time and exited the hall with a small bounce in his step.

"I can't wait to see her expression when I propose!" The male was giddy, and nervous. Really nervous.

Of course nothing would prepare him for that day.

The ceremony went off without issue, in fact it was boring in comparison to what Verter was going to do after.

The moment he was free he would slip away to one of the quieter hallways where his love was waiting.

However before he could get a word in, his hand reaching into his pocket as he closed the distance— things took a turn for the worst. When Verter came within arms distance of her, he hadn't anticipated being attacked, hadn't even registered it until the sharp pain of a knife sinking into his stomach registered.

"....huh?"

His ears were ringing, and sadly he would miss the condescending words thrown at him by the one he'd loved for years but not the tone. She was berating him. Mocking him. Her words didn't register but they still cut through him like blades.

Why?

The confusion, hurt and despair that settled in his chest quickly replaced any emotions of happiness that had been there. She was trying to kill him... she was.... going to kill him...

"W....hy...?"

The blade would be yanked out, spilling more red upon the marble ground as he clutched at the wound in shock.

He felt paralyzed to do anything and yet—

"Master! You idiot!" The familiar voice rose up, and something sliced through the air at high speed. His chain had manifested during his inaction and in one swift motion removed the woman's head from her shoulders.

Verter crouched there, unable to process the situation as it unfolded, the red continuing to stain the ground, the sickening roll of her detached head.... It was all too much.

He screamed.

[aquasoftware]

★ VANILLA WITH A CHERRY ON TOP 🜼

Desc | Kento Nanami meets you at the library, recommends you filthy books, wears his fancy business suits, and kisses your hand like a gentleman. He’s patient, polite, and sweet. But when you finally give him your body, you realize there’s absolutely nothing vanilla about the way he makes love to you.

Cw | MDNI 18+ Cherry popping, soft/service dóm! Kento, súb! Reader, body worsh!p, óraI f!xat!on (f rece!v!ng,) f**t play, chóklng, brèèd!ng/cr3amp!e, overst!m, pra!sè, tùmmý buIgè, nanami has a Prince AIbert piercing, f!nger!ng, cúm pIay, d!rty tàIk, & aftercàre + ML | Drabble

“Vanilla”! Nanami is a man who you meet at a library, his gentle smile is so warm your heart completely melts everytime you glance at him and he flashes one, but you ignore the fact that he’s standing in the erotica section, glasses perched on his nose, quietly flipping through each page like it’s classic literature.

“Vanilla”! Nanami is observant to a pulp. He notices how you always ask for help reaching a book on the top shelf, even though he’s certain you’ve worn heels taller than that. He picks up on how you linger after conversations end, eyes dancing between his lips and his shirt that’s slightly unbuttoned allowing his pecs to happily greet you. How your gaze is anything but innocent, yet he never calls you out on it.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who never flirts explicitly—he just speaks in a tone so sultry and calm it makes your stomach twist.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who always has book recommendations for you, and every time they’re a little more suggestive than the last. “This one had beautiful prose,” he claims, handing you something with chapters full of longing, pinning, or toe-curling tension.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who underlines details in his books that remind him of you, then gets shy when you find them. He’ll mumble "It's just good writing,” but won’t meet your eyes when you see what he underlined is the filthiest smut possible.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who gives you his number after realizing you often come to the library just to constantly see him, he slides you his phone like he’s making a business deal with the contacts screen open uttering “let’s keep in touch.”

“Vanilla”! Nanami is the type that easily falls in love with you, your conversations over the phone nearly lure him in over the screen, your voice is so saccharine he’s desperate for a glass of wine to calm him down, he’s almost embarrassed at how weak in the knees he is for how intelligent you are, your shared hobbies and how your personality is just as attractive as your face.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who sends you photos of his open books along the cozy spots he reads in with captions like “Wish you were here.” (You wonder if he means the reading with him or his lap.)

“Vanilla”! Nanami officially takes you on a plethora of dates after a long while of talking and he’s this huge gentleman, he takes you on real dates. The kind with linen napkins, dim lighting, and soft jazz in the background. He pulls out your chair without thinking twice, gently wipes sauce from your cheek with his thumb, and feeds you bites of dessert with his fork, as his eyes never leave yours.

“Vanilla”! Nanami chuckles when he eventually meets your best friend and she mutters into your ear “I didn’t know you were into squares Y/n.”

“Vanilla”! Nanami who goes quiet for a moment when you tell him you’re a virgin—not because he minds, but because he suddenly feels the weight of your trust.

“Vanilla”! Nanami becomes careful with his words when he finally speaks “I just don’t want to overwhelm you,” he says nervously, placing a loving kiss on the back of your hand. “You deserve someone who’s patient with you… who makes it feel right.”

“Vanilla”! Nanami who tries not to become too emotional when you tell him that someone is him, his ears are tainted a rose pink. His eyes gloss over you as if you’re only someone he’d be able to find in his dreams.

“Vanilla”! Nanami tries to make things perfect for your first time, wanting things to be so memorable that he (unknowingly) ruins you for any other man. He lights coconut scented candles, decorates the entire room with rose petals and there’s a tray of two wine glasses waiting for the both of you afterwards.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who isn’t so vanilla after all, especially when you makeout with him, you’ll understand exactly why he was in the erotica section. Your cherry flavored lip gloss is only an excuse why his lips keep chasing yours for more, he holds your jaw with his fingertips like he’s unworthy of being able to touch you.

“Vanilla”! Nanami takes a deep breath when you tell him you’re finally ready, asking “Are you sure about this?” He presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead once you eagerly nod.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who bites his lip trying not to laugh when you apologize for not wearing anything sexy underneath your clothes and he undresses you to reveal a matching SpongeBob set. He reassures you by saying “You’re sexy in whatever you feel comfortable wearing.” And he gently rubs your back.

“Vanilla”! Nanami unclasps your bra, carefully planting kisses on your bare chest as if it's a delicate flower waiting to be picked. At first he acted as if he had all the time in the world, twirling your bud between his fingers, but then he instantly gave in when you pleaded for more—latching onto your nipple, while suckling as if it could produce sweet nectar.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who preps you for hours eating you out, and if you’re insecure about how you look down there? It’s just an excuse for him to eat you out like his life is on the line, sucking your clit until your thighs are shaking, until his head is practically being crushed to death by your thighs, or until you’re desperately humping his face like a needy slut.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who preps you with another hour of fingering, going painfully slow, refusing to rush things at all. His fingers are thick, so when he curls up and hits that g-spot each stroke? You nearly drool, throwing your head back into the flood of pillows, swearing it’s better than the smut you read.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who shocks you when you learn he has a prince albert piercing and you quickly learn what those hours of prepping was for. When you tell him “I would’ve never guessed you’d have a piercing there!?” He responds, shaking his head “I got it in my youth, but couldn’t bring myself to remove it.” If he notices any concern on your face he tenderly kisses your jawline and lets you hold his hand.

“Vanilla”! Nanami eases in but he goes feral when you cry “Kento, fuck! N-need you faster baby, please.” He throws your legs over your shoulders and can’t help but to suck your pretty white manicured toes, causing you to gasp out of shock, yet pure pleasure.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who thrives off the erotic books he reads, knowing it ingrained the words in his head on what to say, he feels like he won a medal each time he evokes deafening moans when he praises you murmuring “You’re doing so well for me sweetheart,” or “take all of me, mmmh, just like that.”

“Vanilla”! Nanami purposefully presses a big hand on your tummy bulge as he slows down his pace just so you can feel his piercing nudge deliciously against your weak spots.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who tries not to cross any boundaries with you but when you guide his hand to your throat it’s practically testing him, he remembers from a guide that teaches you should start off with small pressure. When you squeeze his cock at the light pressure? He considers putting a baby in you on the spot.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who makes you orgasm for the ninth time that night, when he reaches down to rub your clit while you're spasming around him. As soon as you finish, he doesn’t last long asking “Where do you want me princess?” His eyes nearly roll back when you say “I want your cum inside me baby.” He cums so deep, you’ll feel it in your womb the next day.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who watches as his cum oozes out your swollen cunt, and eats you out one last time, “for good measure.”

“Vanilla”! Nanami who has insane aftercare he cuddles with you, constantly asks if you’re okay, feeds you grapes like he worships the ground you walk on, and holds up your wine for you to drink.

“Vanilla”! Nanami who is anything but vanilla.

Divider/Boarders produced by uzmacchiato & dollywons

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[madamechrissy]

✞ Forgive me For I have Sinned ✞

✞ Pairings: Priest Gojo x Fem Reader

✞ Word count - 5.7k

✞ Content/Warnings- You keep having dreams about Father Gojo, and he decides to try to save your slutty soul <3 NSFW, sacrilegious, confessional fucking, rosaries as bondage, lots of filling you w/love and light, oral (both receiving) fingering, explicit church sex, reader is a lil bimbo and innocent fr, Gojo has a HELL of a God complex (canon tbh) overall kinky asf

A/N- Booking the tix to hell-who's coming with!? I based off this drabble of mine: Priest! Gojo (you can read it first if you want!) Reader and Gojo are in their mid 20s. Enjoy!

It was hot outside, a scorching summer day, the type that made you want to jump in an icy cool lake naked, but in the sanctuary of this pristine church which is kept rather cool, you still have a drip of sweat beading down your collarbone. You’re wearing a pretty red summer dress, your little hat right next to you in the pew, as you watch him with avid attention.

Father Satoru Gojo.

The entire church is in love with him, enamored by him, there are admiring whispers even amongst the most vigilant catholics, the ones who would judge you for coming not in your Sunday best. They hid it well enough, acting as if they only cared so much because his sermons were so powerful, because he was so young and profound already.

But you know better, and they know better deep down, that Father Gojo was just gorgeous, a face chiseled to perfection, tall and broad shouldered, swoon worthy by all accounts. His husky voice and insane presence that shines brilliantly like a million diamonds certainly helps, but his face itself is so pretty it’s angelic.

When he looks at you with those brilliant blue eyes, swirling like a moody storm, all glittery behind those snowy white lashes? Well you feel…

You’re going to hell.

Last night you’d had this insane dream of him, where he has asked you to serve him on your knees, just as he would offer that eucharist and wine to you, but instead it’s his cum you’re swallowing. And you’re a good, God fearing girl, so, you certainly should not do or think of such things! And worst of all, with your priest, Father Gojo. He has vows too, yet you’d committed much sin already.

Just last night you’d awakened throbbing, having dreamt of pleasuring him, on your knees before him, and you’d been soaking wet and dripping down your shorts, even the sheet had a wet spot. You’d rubbed your swollen little clit in circles, gasping and arching your back, feeling fevered as you committed such sins, as picturing Father Gojo had you climaxing all over your own fingers.

You’d been so ashamed this morning! You’d splashed cold water on your face, staring at yourself in your mirror, shivering as the cool water dripped down your skin, knowing you should stay home, find some new church. You are full of impure thoughts and sin, and it’s all because of him, how could you confide in him that you feel this way, think this way?

What would he do if he knew? Cast you out or…

Stop it.

But as you’re crossing your legs, shifting your hips, you see Satoru Gojo’s full, pouty lips part, his eyes directly on you. You pause then, eyes wide, you must be imagining it, your sin surely is carrying over too far… but you test it, crossing your legs once more, and sure enough, his eyes follow your legs up, between your thighs, surely seeing your panties.

That gives you a fucking thrill you can’t describe, as does him licking his thumb, going to another page as he continues his sermon, women all over are fanning themselves, enamored by him. But perhaps none so much as you, picturing what’s under that cassock, under those white robes he wears, what that long, lithe body would feel like against yours.

You imagine your dream vividly later when he’s giving you the eucharist, placing the biscuit on your tongue as you hold your mouth open on your knees, then you see it, the hunger mirrored in his eyes. You tremble when he brushes a thumb over your lower lip, and your eyes drift to his lap, where you clearly see he’s hard. You gulp it down, looking up at him and taking the wine now.

Father Gojo looks down at you, white hair falling over a brow, finding your beautiful eyes are affecting him as much as your stance on your knees, his thumb finds your chin now, imagining shoving his cock between perfect lips. Surely, you are here to tempt him, to ruin him, you are sin itself, haunting his dreams, making him hard in the middle of church, right in his own service.

You look at it then, his cock under the cassock that’s becoming too tight, before licking your lip, eyes back up to his hungrily. You look like such a good girl, but your eyes tell another story, a story of wanting to get fucked hard, to be filled by him, wanting to have his cum all over your pretty face. He imagines that as the wine drips down your lips now.

Fuck he’s going to hell if he stays around you, surely even he has rules to uphold even if he certainly is God’s chosen. But… perhaps since he is God's chosen, it’s his duty to help a little sinful girl like you. And as you rise, holding his hand, and your breasts brush against his chest, you’re far too close, he vividly pictures yanking them out of that dress, tempting him to no end.

Of course you ask for confessional, and he’s dying at the thought of being so close to you, when all he thinks of is how good you look, how good you smell, and he is left to wonder, do you taste that good? Your pretty neck, your delicate collarbone, your pussy? Surely he should not think such things, but as he looks at you through the lattice of the confessional separating you both, he cannot stop his mind.

“Father Gojo… I fear my confession is most wicked.” Comes your breathy little voice, only serving to make Father Gojo’s thick length harden, picturing what your little moans must sound like when properly fucked.

“Go on, my pr- my child, you may tell me anything.” He says, coughing a bit, because he’d rather call you a pretty little slut, and he has no clue why the devil likes to try him so hard. It’s all your fault, truly. Pretty little thing.

“Okay… but…” You take a breath. “I have dreams of someone fucking me, someone I should not.” You say nervously, and watch him shift in his seat, you can smell his cologne so much in here, making you thirst more for him.

“It’s natural to have thoughts, my child.”

“No, Father Gojo… I’m playing with myself, thinking of him. Of… sucking him, or of him laying on top of me.” You hear Father Gojo making a choking sound, and you panic. “I’m so sorry! I…”

“Ahem, no, no… continue.” Father Gojo’s cock is straining, he can already feel precum sticking to his tip, picuring you touching your pussy, he bets it’s so pretty, bet it tastes so-

Sinful girl, aren’t you?

Surely that’s all this is, not… him wanting to sin! Father Satoru Gojo certainly is perfect, he’s God’s perfect creature, so if he wants this, it must be on you. Sin in a perfect little body with a perfect little face, and a voice that drives him to utter distraction. Surely, Father Gojo must try to save you.

“Father, I cannot stop thinking of him, he’s in all my dreams. What should my penance be, how many hail marys?”

Father Gojo has to stroke himself to adjust his huge, throbbing cock now, as he watches you through the lattice, biting your full lower lip, your head falling back, hair cascading. Hair he wants to pull as he fucks you from behind, making you arch your back to take more of his cock.

“I have to ask how you’re doing it… so that I can tell you your penance, so that I may try to save you.” He says, husky now, and you whimper softly, shifting on the bench, your pussy throbbing around nothing, picturing his cock filling you.

“How I do it, Father Gojo?”

“Yes, it’s… important to confess.”

“Well, I take my fingers, and I find my pussy with them, I roll them around my clit over and over, I get so wet that they slip- Father are you okay?” Satoru can’t stand it, he’s stroking his bare cock under his robes, resting his head against the wall, struggling not to cry out as he’s pumping.

“Ahem… indeed I am. So you finger your little pussy then?” At his words you’re a blushing mess, breaths coming more rapidly, your hands gripping the bench, dying for friction as you’re soaking your panties.

“Y-yes.”

“Do you slip your fingers in?”

“I… no! Um… no.”

“And you cum?”

“I… yes. I do cum. Imagining him.” You’re watching those robes rise and fall, then you know it, Father Gojo is stroking his cock right next to you.

“I see… I think I can help alleviate some of this, perhaps give you some guidance so that you do not afflict yourself so.” You want to touch yourself now, when you hear those breathy pants, your fingers clinging to the lattice.

“Yes, father, I need your guidance.” Cock, fingers, mouth… fuck you’re a full sinner, aren’t you!?

“Then come here, let us have our first attempt at saving you.”

Now you’re standing in front of him in the itty bitty room, face to face with Satoru Gojo, your Priest, and fuck if your nipples don’t tighten up, if your tummy isn’t clenching with desire. You’re nervously fiddling with your hands as he leans back, spreading his long legs as wide as they can in the tight quarters, his glittering blue eyes dilated as he licks his lips, making them glossy.

“You must show me how, and do not fret, sweet girl, it’s through god’s will of course, through me.” Father Gojo says, your breaths come faster as you slip up your sundress, and his eyes hungrily drink the sight of your bare thighs in. He leans forward, sliding those panties down, eyeing your glistening cunt now, his breath almost hitting it, making you jerk.

“Father… I cannot show you…”

“You can, I am here to help, have no fear.” He notices you’ve drenched your panties, a wet spot formed, sticky little strands of your arousal apparent as he pulls them down, hands touching the smooth skin of your thighs.

You put your hand on your pussy now, the other nervously holding up your dress, and you run your fingers in circles on your clit, crying out softly, as he lets out a low, guttural moan. You’re getting wetter as you play, as his large, sexy hands clench, the veins popping up out of the thin skin, and you’re trembling, imagining his long fingers working you instead.

Satoru is close to cumming as he watches your pretty face, your brows drawing together, your lips parted, eyes so dilated your pupils are taking over, just a thin ring of your iris left. Your lashes are lowered, and his hand stops yours now, as it’s playing with your soppy little cunt, you tremble before him.

“I see, I must help you, guide you. To get this… affliction taken care of. Yes?” You nod eagerly, then Father Gojo pulls you to his lap, and you’re straddling him, your hands sliding up to feel his strong shoulders under his robe, and he is touching your pussy instead, making you whimper. “Need me to save you, pretty little sinner?”

“Please save me. Please. Ah!” Satoru sinks two long fingers deep inside your eager little entrance, you gasp at it as he slips into your gummy walls, drippy and so tight. He’s paused, moaning and looking right into your eyes, you drown in his blue gaze, as your cunt drools down his hand. “Father Gojo… please…”

“Begging for it, are you? So tight, it’s so… have you had anything inside this perfect little pussy?” He huffs, feeling how you’re squeezing his fingers, then he hits some spot that makes you see stars, pumping up and down over and over. You cling to him, eyes fluttering shut. “Answer me, be a good girl for once, would you?”

Good girl for once.

There’s no hope for you.

“Nothing… no one… just you, Father Gojo. Mmm!” You’re covering your mouth as he keeps pumping, and he moans, dreaming of breaking you in all the ways he could, taking your innocence for himself. It’s surely what god is wanting, and who is he but god’s disciple himself? He thrusts those fingers knuckles deep, watching you fall apart over him.

“There, you’re loving this, fingers stretching your pussy, don’t you?” You nod weakly, gushing down his hand, you can hear the squishing wetness of your pussy as he now slides a thumb, rolling it over your clit.

“F-father Gojo!”

“Sinful girl.” He huffs, as you’ve buried your face against his neck, rocking against his hand, those long fingers fucking you so good it’s painful, moaning.

“Mmm! Father Gojo, I will… be good… for you…”

“Will you?” You nod weakly, as Satoru rolls your clit expertly, and you feel the pressure building, you’re panting, ready to combust. “I feel it, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, hips grinding, now you’re soaking his robes, he’s picturing sliding his cock inside you, breaking you, until your sins are cleansed, and you’re picturing him taking you, defiling you in every way your hectic mind can picture. Both of you are about to cum, you’re not even touching Satoru though, you want to, fuck you want to.

“Close, m’close… p-please…” You’re begging for release, seeing stars as he works your now sloppy cunt.

“I've got you, you can let go, you're safe with me, let me see your sins so I can cleanse them.” He urges you on, bringing you higher and higher with those long, slick fingers.

“Father, it's... I'm gonna... mmm!” You're so close, soaking the sleeve of his robe now. And he's so ready to slide into your eager cunt, looking up at you behind snowy lashes.

“Show me how you sin, let me watch you cum, so I can... help you.” He whispers, and you fall apart then, pulsing around his fingers, and he groans as he watches you, pressing up so deep. You’re gushing so much arousal, he can smell your sweet scent, as you scream out into your little hand, shaking.

Satoru is now sliding his fingers out, you whine, wanting more, especially when he is sucking your juices off his fingers, making you gasp. His cheeks hollow, his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you, your mouth drops open, breaths making you quicken, your heart pounding in your ears as you try to come down.

Your thighs are trembling over him, entire body lit up from cumming so hard, his snowy lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, before fluttering up, looking at you, your arousal coating his lips. “Oh my God.”

More sinning.

“You’re not being a very good girl.” He admonishes, but then his lips quirk up. “But, you taste too sweet to be bad. Or perhaps you yourself are sin.” Father Gojo whispers to you now, and you’re leaning closer, rolling your hips, making him groan, his hands gripping your little waist as your heat brushes against his cock. “Has it alleviated some of your… need, my child?”

He’s smirking at you, in a way no priest should! You sigh then, shaking your head. “No, Father, it’s only made it worse! You must help me more, I’m afraid now I’m thinking of sinning even more, and who I’ve been dreaming of.” You say then, it’s a whisper, as the room is hot from your breaths, smelling like sweet arousal.

Satoru blinks then, thin white brows going together, jaw clenching. “You’re thinking of fucking your own priest? That is a sin.”

“I know! It’s a terrible affliction. Oh Father, I’m going to hell.” You whisper, blinking back tears, still reeling from the aftershocks of cumming. Satoru arches his hips now, brushing his cock against your pussy, and you nearly scream out, head falling back, exposing your throat to him, and he pictures his hand wrapping a rosary around your neck, pulling tight.

You’ve dreamt of him too!? Surely this must be a sign.

A temptation.

But does he want to fight it? Your taste is all over his mouth now, as he feels your sexy little body against him, his hands brushing against your breasts, watching your nipples perk up. You look at him with intoxicated eyes, lips parted, your tiny hands clinging to his robes as you grind again, and he shudders at how fucking good it feels, your heat on him.

“I see… Well you must come to me tomorrow, and we will have to try harder, to save your soul.” He says huskily, you nod eagerly, as he helps you off him, his cock close to cumming, already twitching, he slides your soaked, ruined panties into his robes, you surely do not need them anymore.

“What if I have another dream father!”

“Do not touch yourself, I will help you when you come in, that’s so we can try to save you, yes?” You nod then, leaning close to his lips.

“Father, is it a sin to kiss your lips?”

“Not if you feel a calling, surely God wishes you to.” He murmurs, and you peck a sweet kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on him, before forcing yourself out of the cramped quarters, body on fire, leaving Satoru to finish stroking his cock, cumming as he shoves your panties against his face.

******

You’re dreaming of him again, of Father Gojo, this time his snowy white hair is brushing against your thighs, his tongue is lapping up all the dripping wetness, his big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. You wake up throbbing, crying out, seeing how wet you are, as the ceiling fan whirls, failing to cool your overheated flesh. Father Gojo’s fingers made it worse, your affliction!

The next day you’re painfully turned on, pussy aching for more, you followed his instructions and did not touch yourself, instead you forced yourself to go back to sleep, now you’re in the nearly empty church, knocking at the door of Father Gojo’s office. You hear his deep voice speak.

“Come in.” You nervously walk in, you are wearing a shorter blue sundress today, and no panties. You know Father Gojo will see how sinful you are, but when you see his perfect face, and him wearing a thinner, lighter white robe, your pussy is already making your thighs sticky. “My child, lock that door, so we can have privacy… we would not want your confessions judged.”

“Yes, thank you Father.” You lock the door with a click, stepping to him, your heels clicking on the wooden floor of his room. He’s sitting in his chair, fingers steepled, studying your body carefully.

“Do you have any updates on your affliction, pretty girl?”

“Pretty girl…” You’re blushing worse now.

“I feel I must call you what the lord is telling me. Is that alright with you?” You nod nervously, standing before him, the desk separating you. “So how were your dreams last night?”

“They were of you again, Father Gojo. I’m so sorry!”

You cover your face in embarrassment, hearing the soft thumps of his shoes as he comes to you, taking you by your wrists, big hands enveloping the delicate wrists entirely. Your head tilts back to look at him, he’s so tall and big… you’re drinking in the sight of him, his black rosaries hanging across his broad chest.

“You must tell me these dreams, so I may help you. Perhaps they’re some sign that we must see.”

“You… you were licking me, between my thighs.” His nostrils flare slightly, those swirling blue eyes thirsty as he studies you, your thighs shift, his hands still tight on your wrists.

“Your slutty little pussy, I was licking it?” Your pussy is clenching, tummy coiling, at his nasty, sinful words, from such a pure man. You nod then. “I see, there’s no choice, we must see what enacting your dreams does. To try to save you.”

“Y-yes, father, I think so too.” You whisper, hands sliding up and down his chest, watching his Adam's apple bob under that white collar. “Does it ever get uncomfortable, Father Gojo?”

“At times. Take it off for me.” He turns and you undo the collar, when he turns back you see it, his strong neck, the muscles corded, you bite your lower lip, earning him pulling it from your teeth. “This dream, describe it, so I can help you.”

You’re a flustered mess, especially after his fingers yesterday, and all the dreams you’ve been having. You take several breaths now. “You were licking me.”

“More descriptive.” He murmurs now, sitting you up on his desk, shocking you, then he slides up your skirt and smirks, wicked priest that he is, blue eyes darting back up to yours. “No panties, your soul is so slutty.”

“I… well… Father Gojo!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit with his thumb, watching you writhe on his desk now, as he sits back in his black chair, scooting up, his breath right against you.

“You wanted this, to be bare in front of me, didn’t you pretty little sinner?”

“Y-yes, I told you, I’m going to hell, mmm!”

He’s kissing your thighs, your hands enwrap in his silky white hair now, his breaths higher and higher, eying your perfect, glistening pussy. He’s dying to feel you dripping down his tongue, dying to drink your sweet nectar flowing when he’s opening up the lips of your pussy, and you’re making those pretty sounds, you’re so pathetic already, he thinks.

“No, I will save you, don’t you believe in me, pretty? I alone speak for God, I’m the honored one.” His words along with his eyes, those glittery blue storms that see right through you, as if they know your every sin, wreck you now. He surely must be the honored one.

“You’ll save me, I know you will.” You whisper, caressing his cheek now, and he moans softly, just urging you on more.

“That’s a good girl. Now tell me, what did I do in this dream?”

“You licked me, here.” You touch your slit, and he slides his tongue up it now, making you gasp, his tongue is so hot and wet, you’re gushing just from that. Satoru moans, kissing right over your clit before swiping his tongue again. “Father!”

“Shh, lest they hear your sinful mouth.” He whispers, and you clench your teeth, nodding as you watch him, he is placing your feet on either arm of his chair. “And you did not play with yourself?”

“I swear I did not, Father Gojo! I listened. Please…” You arch your hips up, full pussy in his face, and Satoru begins to devour you now, spreading your lips and flicking his tongue on your little swollen clit over and over. You have to slap a hand over your mouth, his rosary is cool against your inner thigh as he works your pussy, just like your dream.

Satoru’s tongue is wicked, for such a holy man you think, and it does the most wicked things to you, no dream could prepare you, even his fingers had not. He sucks your clit into his hot open mouth, moaning as your juices coat his tongue, looking up at you as you cling to his hair with one hand, the other muffling your cry as you feel yourself begin to cum.

Soon you are cumming right on Father Gojo’s face, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, pussy pulsing around nothing, and he’s drinking you up, so lewd in the quiet church office. You’re jerking now, as he leans up, half his pretty face shining with your slick, making you flush at how much there was. Your hand eases down, now just gasping for breath as you look at him.

“And now, my child, how is this affliction?” He whispers, leaning up and laying atop you, pressing you into the wooden desk. You lean up, kissing him once more, earning his moan, tasting yourself all over him, he grabs you by the throat then, long fingers wrapping as he pulls back. “How hard do I have to work to save your slutty little soul, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Father Gojo. It was so amazing… but I just want more, I fear I’m having more lustful thoughts of you now.” Your hand slides down now, cupping him where he’s thick and hard, and he squeezes your throat harder now, his thumb on your racing pulse.

“And what else is in that little brain of yours? What lewd fantasies of your priest, hmm?”

“Sucking your cock, that’s what.” He groans now, pulling you down and putting you to your knees. You look up eagerly, now Satoru is undressing, and you finally get glimpses of his body, of hard muscles and planes as he’s taking off his robes, now opening his pants for you, revealing a huge, thick cock. You gulp as you drink in the sight of it.

“And do you know what to do, how to serve me, my child?” He asks, you shake your head. “Yet you’ve dreamt it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then it’s surely meant to be, hmm? First, slide down your top.” You do as he says, and he moans as he sits back in his chair, gripping your bare breasts. “My God,  you’re made to ruin me. Come here, open your mouth.”

You do as he says, and Father Gojo now guides you by your hair, hair he wraps around his fist, guiding you down on his cock. His curved pink tip is leaking white pearly substance, which you tongue out, earning his grown, his head falling back. You suck him eagerly, swirling your tongue, as his eyes watch you, lidded and dazed, tasting his saltiness and sweetness eagerly.

“You’re far too good at this, are you sure you haven’t been sucking cock, like a sinful brat?” You pull back with a pop, saliva dripping down your lips.

“No, I only want to serve you, Father.”

“Mmm, you’re so precious.” He whispers, before shoving your mouth back on him, and you’re bobbing up and down as he pulls your hair, using it to glide you up and down his length. Your eyes water, your nose starts running as his cock is choking you, your pussy throbbing even more. “Fuck…”

“Father, did you cuss?” You ask, pulling back, with a shy little grin, earning Father Gojo’s smirk.

“I’m allowed to, it’s all God’s words. Now are you finally satisfied, or do we need to go further? Do I need to break your pretty little pussy?” He murmurs, his words like a drug, running his thumb across your lower lip. You nod then, weakly, and his lips part, eyes studying you. “Then ask me, on your knees so pretty, like you’re praying.” He puts your hands in prayer position, blue eyes lighting up.

“Please, break me, Father Gojo.” He pulls you up now, kissing you deeply, tongues so unpracticed and messy, you’ve never really even kissed, but now you feel him, filling you once more with those two fingers as he bends low.

“Turn around and bend over, sweet sinner.” You turn, and now Father Gojo has slid your dress down, leaving you in just your heels, his big hands gliding down every line and curve of your bare body. “I said bend over.”

He smacks you sharply on your backside, making you gasp then whine out, as he presses your upper back between your shoulder blades, your face against his desk. He then takes your hands, putting them behind your back and wrapping them with his black beaded rosary. You whine out at the sensation, he pulls it so tightly it’s digging in, shoving the cross in your palms.

“Hold on to that cross while I fuck your innocent little pussy. Feel it against your skin as I do.” He says, whispering in your ear. You nod, feeling the sharp cool silver digging in, as the beads dig into your bound wrists. “Good girl, spread those thighs.”

You do as he says, and then his tip is in, stretching you, and you’re shivering, breaths coming faster and faster. Satoru shoves his cock inside you, tearing at your little barrier. You cry out at the pain, and he pauses for a moment, moaning, letting you adjust. “H-hurts…”

“Just a moment of pain to fill you with my light.” He murmurs, sinking deeper, and your walls are fluttering around his cock, earning his groan. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Did you want me to take it, your innocence?”

“I’ve w-wanted you, so long… played with… a long ah- time.” He moans now, sliding back out and in, you’re so wet and ready the pain eases quickly, as he takes you from behind now, pulling on your neck, pressing your bound hands firmer against your back, whispering in your ear.

“You sinned so long, playing with this pussy thinking of me?” You nod weakly, hiccuping on a cry as he’s pumping now, taking you over, stretching your tight cunt out so much, your skin burns, but you crave it.

You’re going to hell, surely.

But it seems worth it to be stretched by his cock so well.

“Y-yes… a long time. S-sorry Father…”

“Just Satoru when you cum all over my cock, hmm?” You nod weakly, then he fucks you harder now, thighs smacking your skin, his pelvis smacking your now sore ass cheeks, balls smacking your clit. “Ah, and you’re close already and your first time? You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Satoru!” You scream out so loud he’s palming your mouth with his huge hand, taking over your face, shoving his cock in and rolling his hips, making you climax so hard you cannot see. You weakly drool out of your lips onto his hand, as he feels your velvety walls fluttering around him.

You are made for this, for his cock, to take him. Your sweet virgin pussy is getting so filled by Father Gojo’s huge cock, but you’re already taking him so well. Father Gojo knows then that your dreams and his must be for a better purpose, to fuck you and fill you with all of his light, surely. You’re taking him more and more, cumming so hard your cunt is drooling everywhere.

He lets your face go, looking at your fucked out expression, your mouth is wide open, that drool dangling out the corner, your eyes are rolled back, lashes fluttering, your ass arching up for more. You’re such a sinful creature, but he knows your innocence was made for just him, clearly. You would not have anyone else, he would surely see to it.

It’s God's calling.

You’re pounded and stuffed by his huge cock, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, ass jiggling with the force, then Satoru pulls your chin to face him, he’s so fuzzy, you keep shutting your eyes.

“Look at me, my child, now.” He whispers, and you open your eyes, staring into his weakly as his thrusts slow.

“Y-yes, Satoru…” He moans at the use of his name from your pretty lips.

“I’m saving you, through… mmm… God’s wisdom.”

“Thank you, thank you!” You’re trembling, he’s rolling his hips and that tip is dragging on your spot, you struggle to focus on his pretty face, the sun from the blinds filtering in behind his head, and then he looks like an angel. The cross is digging in so much your hand is bleeding just a bit, but you truly couldn’t care, his cock feels too good inside you.

“Do you want me to… fill you…” He’s crying out then, grabbing you so tightly you can’t breathe. “With God’s love… and light?”

“Please, fill me Father- ah!” Satoru starts pumping faster and faster, yanking on your rosary so hard it breaks as he begins to cum, the beads flinging and clattering all over the wooden floor, the cross still digging into your broken palm.

“Going to put… so much… light in you… fill you-” He moans loudly then, and you feel hot liquid pumping inside, bringing you to cum with him, as it coats your walls, hot and sticky. “Feel it? Feel me filling you with it?”

“I do! I do… Father Gojo… feel it.” You whine out, rolling your hips to milk him for every bit of his hot white ropes.

“Oh… Mmm…” He’s pumping more cum inside you now, but you’re so wet and still convulsing, so it’s dripping down his cock with your arousal. Satoru exhales, pulling out and then wiping you up, turning you gently, gulping as he kisses you once more. “You were sent here to destroy me.”

“Father, I’m afraid… I only want to do it more.” You whisper, he groans, cupping your face, as you bring up your hand to him, where the cross has left red marks on your palm, he traces it, the perfect symbol of the cross, with little blood drops streaking. You wince in pain.

“I see, it’s a sign we must continue.” He says, and you nod eagerly, as he holds your hand in his.

“We must, Father Gojo.”

*****

The next Sunday, you’re sitting in the very front for the sermon, watching as Father Gojo is licking a thumb and turning a page, his blue eyes darting to your thighs, today you’re wearing a pink summer dress. Father Gojo has stolen a pair of your panties, he thinks you don’t notice, but you do, so you decide not to wear any again, opening your legs for a moment.

Father Gojo gets a glimpse of your bare, glistening pussy right in that church, making his cock hard in front of a room full of hundreds of his followers. Luckily the brown stand in front of him covers up such evidence, as he looks over at your face when you cross your sexy legs, you smile up at him, blinking innocently.

But you’re not innocent, not anymore, are you? No, you’re the worst sinner he’s tried to save, and he thinks he’ll have to work harder to save you. And when you’re riding his cock in the confessional later that evening, and he’s biting on your breasts, you’re riding him so well, moans muffled in the tiny room, he’s not sure he can save you truly, you’re too full of sin.

Father Gojo enjoys your slutty soul and your soaking wet pussy on him far, far too much, especially filling you with his cum light.

Serving Father Gojo is perfectly fine, it's God's will after all 🙏 Nanami and Geto drabbles coming some time too <3 Reblog if you're a sinner <3

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60569476

[bruisedboys]

trouble — jacob black

it’s raining and you’re bored. your boyfriend proves to be an effective distraction (if you can distract him, that is) OR in which jacob is busy and you like to cause trouble. based off this drabble!

jacob black x fem!reader, 2k words. suggestive content 16+ pls!!

The rain is unforgiving today. It’s not uncommon for it to be wet in Forks, the rain a persistent, stubborn thing, but today it’s horrendous. Heavy and icy cold, big fat droplets that seem sure to pierce your skin and freeze you to death. It hasn’t stopped since last night and doesn’t seem like it’ll stop for a good few days.

You’re bored out of your mind. You realise rain just comes with living in Forks, and you’re mostly used to it, but you’d really wanted to go shopping with your friends today and the rain squandered your plans the moment you woke up. Jacob’s busy working on his bike in the shed, and everyone else is rained in. You’re stuck on the couch at Jacob’s while the rain comes down in sheets outside. You flick through channels on the TV until you can’t stand it anymore. There’s nothing good to watch, anyway.

You grab one of Jacob’s jackets from the hook by the door and brave the rain, using the jacket as a makeshift umbrella as you jog your way over to the garage, shoes sloshing in the mud.

You find Jacob sitting on the beat-up wooden bench, hunched over his newest project. It’s a bike he found second hand at a yard sale — when he first got it, it looked to you an unrecognisable hunk of metal, hardly a bike at all. But your boyfriend has a way with his hands, and now it at least has two wheels and a proper seat.

Jacob looks up as you come in, though the sound of the rain completely covers your footsteps.

“Hey, trouble,” he says. Then, at the look on your face, “You okay?”

Your frown deepens. “No,” you shake your head. “I’m bored, Jake.”

Jacob chuckles. Trust him to laugh at you when you’re clearly suffering.

“Yeah?” He asks. “You want to come help me?”

You take one look at the frankly confusing array of tools around his feet, and wrinkle your nose. “No, thanks. Can’t we go for a drive?”

Jacob wrinkles his nose back at you. “I’m busy, babe. And the road’s slippery, it’s dangerous. Maybe later.”

You roll your eyes. He can be such a grandma sometimes. Jacob goes back to his bike and you wander around the shed looking for something to do and moping. After a half assed search for some way to entertain yourself, you find an old novel you or Jake must’ve left in here a few months ago — you remember starting it and getting bored, but you’re already knee deep in boredom with no way out, so you decide to give it another try.

You sit in the bed of Jacob’s truck where it’s parked in the back of the shed, legs swinging over the edge. The rain drums rhythmically above you as you start reading. It takes about ten pages for you to get bored again, and five more for your mind to start wandering.

You think about how you could’ve been out shopping right now. Looking at all the lovely dresses in the new store they opened near the cinema. Sorting through books at the second-hand bookstore. Choosing a pretty new bra that you know Jacob would love seeing on you, and taking off of you. The thought gives you an idea. Unceremoniously, you give up on the book and slide off the truck bed, crossing the room to Jacob.

He doesn’t lift his head as you come up behind him, but acknowledges you with a brush of his knuckle to your thigh. You stand over him for a moment, watching him work. He looks hot when he’s concentrated, eyes trained in on his work, jaw set in concentration, arms muscles straining as he twists a particularly stubborn screw. He’s got big, strong hands, which only fuel your desire even more. What’s the best way to drag him away from his work?

“Did you want to help?” Jacob asks without looking up, interrupting your thoughts. You’re lucky he doesn’t catch you staring, or he’d figure out your plan in an instant.

You shake your head. “No. I’m just watching you.”

Jacob hums and goes back to what he’s doing, which happens to involve a lot of strained muscles as he tightens another loose screw with a wrench. You’re holding your breath as you watch his tanned bicep strain beneath the fabric of his t-shirt, and yeah, you’re a minx, but he’s really hot, and you don’t think anyone would blame you for reaching out and touching him.

Jacob doesn’t startle under your touch nor does he acknowledge it. You play it off casual, like you’re only rubbing his shoulder, palm gliding over the hill of it. You can feel his abnormally high body heat through his t-shirt, a nice change from the cold air. You find yourself pushing your hand down the expanse of his shoulder blade and up again, pressing the heel of your palm into his muscle.

Jacob sighs a little under your touch and rolls his shoulder back, leaning into your hand.

“Feels nice,” he murmurs.

You grin. This far into your relationship you’ve learnt that Jacob is a lot like a puppy when it comes to physical affection — he’s a total sucker for it, he melts for shoulder rubs and back scratches, and he turns to complete putty in your hands when you play with his hair (though you won’t implement that just yet.)

Instead, you just hum softly, smiling to yourself as you press both hands to his shoulders. He’s equally warm and muscled all over, and at this point it would take a hoard of vampires to hold you back from touching him. You get a good grip on his shoulders and push your palms into his muscles, massaging him.

It’s mean, because you know what it’ll do to him, know exactly what kind of mood it gets him into. Still, it’s not until you start to push your hands further up towards his neck that he confronts you.

He turns to face you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Did you want something, sweetheart?” He asks, and you can tell you’ve begun to unravel him by the way he says it, plus he’s called you sweetheart, which almost certainly means he’ll give in.

You feign innocence, though the look on his face almost unravels you.

“Nope,” you lie. “Just watching.”

Jacob raises his eyebrows at you. “You sure? You’re being awfully touchy.”

“You’re really warm,” you say, shrugging.

Jacob squints at you, then shrugs. “If you say so,” he says, and (looking like he’s exercising quite a bit of restraint) turns back to his bike.

You stay where you are and give him about five minutes of peace before you start being cruel. Keeping one hand at the base of his neck, you slide the other up the back of it, pushing up into his hair. You card your fingers through the short strands at the very nape of his neck, and Jacob goes very still. You think he’s holding his breath. When you push your hand further up into the longer strands, and let your nails drag over his scalp on the way back down, he folds.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he murmurs. He drops his tools, scrubs his hands on his jeans and spins on you, hooking one leg over the wooden bench, straddling it so he can properly face you. He‘s giving you a dangerous look that makes your heart race. Finally.

You blink at him, a picture of innocence. “What’s the matter?” You ask sweetly, though you know your smile gives you away. As if you weren’t caught red handed already.

Jacob huffs and rolls his eyes, before grabbing your hips and pulling you forward roughly. You go tumbling into his lap and he catches you, hands hot on your jeans, adjusting you until you’re properly sitting in his lap. Your legs fall on either side of his hips and you giggle, pleased and flustered at his manhandling.

Jacob gives you a somewhat disapproving look, though his thumb rubs fond circles into the fat of your hip.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says in a low voice. His eyes flicker to your lips. He looks a bit like he wants to eat you.

“Sorry,” you say. You are kind of sorry for disturbing him, but the heat building in your chest outweighs the guilt. “I was really bored.”

Jacob laughs through his nose. “Yeah, I know, babe.” He spread his hands over your hips and butt and pulls you closer still. Your hands end up on his shoulders again. “You always know how to get what you want, huh?”

Something about the way he’s talking to you makes you so dizzy you can’t speak. You’re silent as Jacob dips his head to press a kiss to one of your wrists, then takes it in his hand and guides your hand up his neck and back into his hair.

“Keep going?” He asks in a quiet voice, encouraging your hand around the back of his head. “Please?”

Well, when he asks like that, how could you say no? You curl your fingers into his hair and Jacob barely gives you time to breathe before he’s kissing you, mouth landing on yours in the sort of kiss you can only describe as desperate. You’re equal amounts of needy as him, pushing forward in his lap and grabbing at his hair with greedy hands.

The rain thunders overhead. Jacob tilts his head, kissing you until your lips part under the pressure. His tongue slips into your mouth and your stomach swarms with butterflies. You grip Jacob’s hair harder, ensuing a sound from him like an angry dog, half moan half growl. It seems your touching earlier got him in exactly the mood you knew it would.

It’s not long before his hands start to wander. First your ass, then your arms, rubbing up and down as he kisses you hard enough to make you forget where you are. Then back to your hips, and you can feel the scalding heat of his hands through your jeans. He grabs you and tugs you further up his lap, close enough that your legs spread as you press against his bulge.

“Jake,” you whisper.

“Mmm,” he moans back. Then pulls away just an inch, lips swollen and forehead pressed to yours. “What, babe?”

You shake your head, breathless. “Nothing, just feels nice when you do that.”

Jacob ducks in to kiss you again. “Yeah?” He murmurs between hot kisses, sounding both pleased and a bit dangerous.

You nod your head, and it’s all it takes for Jacob to rock you against him again, pushing his hips up into yours as he goes. You moan and Jacob makes a similar sound from the back of his throat, heating you all the way through.

It quickly turns into not just kissing after that. Jacob’s kisses turn sloppy. You push your hands under his shirt to feel along the ridges and planes of his chest and abdomen, his skin like a furnace. Jacob guides your hips forward and back and forward again, grinding you against him slowly and breathing hard into your open mouth.

You forget about the rain, the pounding of your heart much louder than the downpour outside. You forget about the cold, your failed shopping trip, and the boring book abandoned in the bed of the truck.

It’s not long before Jacob’s got his hand on your thigh and a warm ache sweet as honey has bloomed between your legs.

Jacob’s busy kissing at your neck, bullying your skin with his teeth and tongue while you go breathless. His hand trudges further and further up your thigh until it’s high enough to abuse the waistband of your jeans.

His hand roves along the length of it, until he reaches the button. He tugs at it, mumbling into your neck a barely intelligible, “Can I?”

You nod vigorously, and your breath catches as he unfastens the button — his thumb skims over your underwear and you make a needy sound you can’t help.

Jacob emerges from your neck, smirking like mad. You’d say you hate him for it, but his thumb is tracing the hem of your underwear and you can’t speak.

“Not so bored now, huh?” Jacob teases in a low voice, but he’s out of breath too. You’ll tease him later for how quickly you managed to unravel him, but right now you can’t form more than two words.

“Shut up,” you manage, then make sure of it by pressing your mouth to his again.

He shuts up.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[postorigamisekai]

MEMORY 1 ◇ The duelist's lament.

The duelist stalks through the decrepit castle the purple streamer's coil resides within, the grey of the walls a stark contrast to his colorful self. He drags his duel blades behind him in a bored manner, everything here was just all so... uninteresting. Queen Asahina would want him to stay guarding the purple streamer, but would it really kill her to let him explore a bit? Maybe it would, he doubted that he'd care.

He looked out the window to the part of the endlessly winding streamer where the purple of the streamer he was guarding intertwined with the pink of the streamer that Mizuki was guarding. There used to be three streamers there, one purple, one pink, and one green. He liked to think of them as symbolic of his friendship with both Nene and Mizuki. But after Ena was... 'decommissioned' by the hero Nene was next to follow. He winces at the memory of comforting a silently crying Mizuki after the green streamer dissolved into pieces.

The duelist shook his head, he had to be ready in case the Hero arrived. He tugged at the collar of his lab coat subconsciously, something he did before he was cursed, before everything. Before the Queen enlisted him, before the Queen killed his parents because he misbehaved-

No, that's too painful a memory.

The duelist turned his head out the window again, what was he before he became the duelist? He was Rui Kamishiro, he loved and cared, but he hardly received the same back from the world. But now that love has become a dull desire, a dull ache for something- anything that could hypothetically bring him a cure for his endless boredom. Supposedly that's what an unhealthy dose of solitude does to a man, that and the curse maybe.

He stared at the entwined streamers, grimacing to himself as the pink one slowly came apart. Mizuki wouldn't have simply let themselves get defeated, right? They were only supposed to guard the spools with their lives, as is now the sole purpose of the Legion of Solitude. He felt a tear drip down one from one of his golden eyes, he'd have time to mourn later though.

The Hero would be coming for him next, he was the last one, yet... Why should he even bother to protect the streamer? Maybe the hero could provide him with some... entertainment instead. He'd still kill the hero in the end, not for Queen Asahina but rather Mizuki and Nene. His dearest friends, his only friends. " ... I'll be waiting, fabled hero." He smirked to himself, using the thought of toying with the hero until they broke as a distraction from Mizuki's likely demise.

<☆>

... It's funny now, back then he used to blame Tsukasa for the 'deaths' of the legion. And he hadn't even known what had really happened to them. And come to think of the other members of the legion... wouldn't they have come to this world as well? Perhaps he'd convince Tsukasa to come and look for them.

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where you make theo cry (an ain’t that love inspired drabble)

Theodore Nott was hardly the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He had spent years perfecting his signature air of indifference, the one that captivated most others, what compelled them to make an impression on him. Of course, all that fell away when it came to you.

It started subtly. A sigh escaping your lips after a long day would leave him restless, make his bones a little weary. When you rubbed your temples in frustration, he found himself getting agitated with you - whatever was vexing you so undoubtedly deserved his irritation too. And when you laughed - loud, unabashed - it felt like a breath of fresh air.

Not that he'd admit it to anyone. No, he'd promised himself a long time ago, he wouldn't tell a soul - not his friends, not his family, and certainly not you. Little did he know he had yet to see a moment of yours that would truly unravel him at the seams.

It happened on an ordinary Tuesday whilst tracking down Mattheo. He had checked their dorm, the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, everywhere - which left solely your dorm. Theo vaguely remembered him mentioning something about fixing one of the pipes in the bathroom, which was really just a ploy to impress one of your roommates more than anything.

But as he passed through the Slytherin common room on his way there, your droopy, teary eyes peering up at him for a split second, Theo swore he felt something inside of him crack open. You weren’t crying, not quite, but you were close. And Merlin, he hated it. Hated how his throat constricted, how his chest tightened, how his own stomach twisted with the bitterness of your misery.

He looked almost comically stricken briefly before straightening his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice low.

"It’s nothing." You shook your head, brushing it off with a tight, superficial smile as you moved up to make room for him. "Mattheo’s almost done, he’ll be down in a second."

Still taken aback, Theo accepted the seat beside you 

"It doesn't look like nothing," he prompted. You laughed weakly, dabbing at your eyes.

"Don't worry. It is, really. I'm just feeling a little…hormonal today." Your gaze fell back to the book and almost immediately, your emotions betrayed you once again.

You sniffled as your face screwed up in your effort to choke back your sobs. Theo felt a lump in his throat and an unfamiliar stinging sensation at the corners of his eyes.

“It’s just - “ you forced out, “he’s so small. Look at him, Theo. He’s tiny. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know about taxes. He doesn’t even know about taxes.”

Theo finally caught sight of the page of your book. It had a picture of a baby niffler, no bigger than the size of your thumb - tiny, soft, with big, round, trusting (if only slightly mischievous) eyes.

As you dissolved into more stifled sobs, Theo blinked, caught completely off guard. Then, to everyone’s horror - including his own - his eyes misted over too.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," Blaise muttered from across the room, watching the scene unfold. "Are you actually crying?"

“It’s fucking tiny.”

Theo scowled at him, aggressively wiping his face. He wasn’t sure what was worse—the sound of your quiet, shuddering breaths, or the way your shoulders trembled under his hands as he pulled you close.

You hiccupped between sobs. "I just love it so much."

Theo swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yeah. Me too." He glanced at the book in your lap again. He hugged you closer, deciding you were right - how dare a Niffler be that tiny, baby or otherwise?

Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. I’ve seen enough."

Theo’s tears dried as quickly as they came, but the two of you stayed pressed together for a long time after Blaise left, even after your breathing had slowed into something more measured once again. You pressed your cool check against his shoulder, half-dozing.

Unthinkingly, Theo pried your clenched fist open. Surprisingly, you let him thread his fingers through your own. He glanced down at you, at the soft locks of hair curling around your tearstained face. He resisted the urge to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked up at him questioning. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Just - just let me, alright?”

A playful smile tugged at your lips. “You’re ridiculous, Teddy.” Your smile turned teasing. “Wait till Mattheo hears you cried over a baby niffler.”

Theo took on a wounded look. “So did you.”

As the two of you curled up again, Theo decided that this emotional telepathy wasn’t the worst thing in the world. When you sighed, he sighed. When you laughed, he laughed. When you hurt, he hurt. When you cried over a baby niffler… apparently, he did, too.

He hardly dared to think it, but he did it all the same.

Wasn’t that love?

[jinusajas]

02/11/25; 01:15pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ how they celebrate valentine’s day with you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: slight crack with rafayel's 😂

you were in the middle of reading your novel, believing that sylus was too busy to celebrate valentine's day with you as you were left to your own devices. despite the prior disappointment you felt at the thought of being unable to spend such a lovely holiday with him, in the end, you chose to be a good lover and simply spoil yourself for the day instead. you never brought it up or even asked, hence why you were currently surrounded by your favorite snacks, simply relaxing in bed while flipping though the pages of your book.

the start of your night was utterly normal, peaceful even when you found yourself surrounded by darkness just seconds later.

"what the hell?" you sit up in bed, dropping your novel on the ground as you blindly searched for the lamp settled on the nightstand. however, you were unable to move, feeling a pair of hands wrapping around your form coupled along with a series of laughters.

"luke, kieran, unhand me right now!" you bark at the twins, feeling them carry you away from your bed with ease.

"no can do, miss queen! boss man gave us strict orders to bring you to him!"

the twins continue carry you away, seemingly able to navigate through sylus's mansion even without the need for any lights. you try to wiggle out of their hold, yet end up letting out a grunt when you felt your ass landing against a plush cushion. the twins had dropped you off somewhere, making you glare into the darkness, ready to chew out the troublesome pair-

only to have your eyes widen with shock when the lights came back on. your eyes stung for a brief moment before allowing you to finally see the surprise sylus had planned for you. you were settled on the dining table, and seated across from you was sylus himself, lifting up a glass full of red wine in a toast. "hello sweetie, how nice of you to finally join me."

your mouth opens, yet the words become lost the moment you were able to actually look at the table. as far as your eyes can see, you saw various dishes across the table, finally taking in the scents of your favorite foods and various heart shaped confectionaries for dessert. tears dot your vision, making you wipe them away with the back of your hand, "i thought you had forgotten. i-"

hearing your sniffles and seeing your tears causes sylus to put down his wine glass, standing back to his full height as he took quick strides towards you. taking you within his embrace, he lets out gentle coos of your name, setting you on his lap while holding you against him.

"as if i would ever forget to celebrate our love, little dove."

filled to the brim with utter adoration for him, you cling to the front of his suit, allowing sylus to lean down and capture your lips in a sweet kiss, reminding you of just how pure and deep his love ran for you.

when zayne asked what you would like to do for valentine's day, your mind immediately went to the art museum you had wanted to visit since its opening a few months ago.

never one to deny you of any of your wants and needs, zayne takes you to the museum while walking around with you. he basks in the joy and awe with each painting and sculpture you pass by. and despite how you were the one who had purchased the box of macarons to share-

zayne was the one left holding it, since you were so engrossed at being at this museum.

yet the turning point came when you stood in front of an oil painting that seems to take up the whole section of the museum. your eyes were glued to the watercolors that painted the scenery of the deep ocean along with what appeared to be mermaids swimming in and out of an underwater city.

"wow, this is amazing. i heard rafayel was a genius in his own right, but this- his art, so breathtaking, almost like a fairytale..."

the way your eyes shimmer with admiration for the artist causes a surge of something dark and almost possessive to course through zayne's veins. the sudden sensation makes him grip at the box of macarons in a tighter manner, nearly crushing the cookies as a frown paints his expression. you were still ogling the painting when zayne decides to place the box of macarons on a nearby bench, coming closer to you as he wraps his arms around your front.

"what- zayne?"

he buries his face within your hair, "i didn't think i'd be able to feel jealous over a painting."

your eyes go wide, ready to ask what he meant when your lover suddenly leans down to press a kiss against your lips, swallowing the rest of your words. you let out a soft moan in response, shyly kissing him back while feeling zayne delving his fingers into your hair.

with you being so focused on his kiss, you were unaware of zayne's smile and his feelings of victory at being able to win your attention back from that man's painting.

you shared the love of stargazing with xavier, so when he invites you out on a picnic beneath the stars for your valentine's day date-

you said yes to his offer immediately.

you had prepared for this picnic throughout the day, making several sandwiches along with a charcuterie board to share along with some sparkling wine. xavier offers to carry the heavy basket filled with food as you held on to the blanket.

your ballet flats meets with the plushness of the emerald green grass, eyes already scanning the skies as you were basking in the sight of the twinkling stars settled millions of miles above you. xavier looks back at you, seeing the way you stopped as a kind smile graces his features.

taking a hold of your arm, xavier leads you towards the middle of the field, helping you spread out the blanket fully before settling on top of it with you. your boyfriend spreads out your meal, setting up the charcuterie board while offering you a sandwich as well.

taking tentative bites of your food, you rest your head against xavier's shoulder, simply basking in the moment with him. your eyes were glued to the galaxy above you, listening to xavier's voice as he pointed out the constellations and traced at the stars with his fingertips.

feeling warm and oh so happy with him, you look away from the skies and gently call out his name.

"yes?" you meet his gaze, seeing the love he had for you shining in them when you lean closer to the philos prince. "i love you, thank you for this."

instead of answering you with words, xavier leans forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, slotting his lips against yours while silently conveying i love you, too.

for valentine's day, rafayel treats you to a nice lunch before taking you to the aquarium. while walking around the gorgeous area, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of the ice cream shop settled near the entrance. after purchasing your tickets, rafayel slides his wallet back into his pant pockets when he meets your puppy dog expression.

he sighs, "okay princess, spill, what is it that you want?"

"an ice cream cone sounds really nice right now." you tell your boyfriend with a pout, pointing at the ice cream stand.

he feigns a sigh, yet walks with you to the stand anyways, allowing you to purchase your favorite flavor before ruffling your hair. you were giggling now, taking eager licks of your ice cream while offering some to your lover.

rafayel pouts, but leans down to take a huge bite out of the soft serve ice cream, making you laugh, "oh my god, that was a bite from a shovel!"

"no it wasn't!" he retorts while playfully pulling on your cheek, only to stiffen just moments later. he lets go of your face, and you give your boyfriend a confused expression while rubbing at your cheek, "huh? rafe, what is it?"

his frown seems to deepen, lips forming a pout as he marched deeper into the aquarium. your eyes go wide, following him all while calling out his name. your search for him leads you to an area where the coral reefs were on display-

and your boyfriend was actively glaring at this angelfish that had startling sapphire blue scales. you continue to take tentative licks of your ice cream, wanting to observe what would happen next-

only to see the angelfish's mouth open and close several times with bubbles forming within the waters.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!" rafayel's voice echoes throughout the aquarium as his hands form into fists, pounding into the glass as the angelfish continued blowing bubbles at him.

"r-rafeyel, calm down, what happened?" you try your best to diffuse the situation, yet his pout deepens while pointing an accusing finger at the angelfish, "h-he just called me a limp noodle and said that i wasn't good enough for you!"

before rafayel could demand that one of the workers allow him inside of the waters, you pull your overly dramatic boyfriend away from the scene, feeling a bead of sweat run down your cheek as you thought of ways to help with calming the lemurian down.

"oh my god, i'm in heaven right now!" you tell your boyfriend of two years while cutting into the fluffy strawberry shortcake, placing the delicious morsel within your mouth all while letting out a moan of pleasure.

caleb simply chuckles at your words, tending to his own cup of coffee. he never once removes his gaze away from you, smiling like a lovesick fool, "whatever makes you happy, baby."

resting his cheek against the palm of his hand, the farspace colonel was glad he was able to take some time off for this special day. knowing that you were a true romantic at heart, there was no way in hell he would ever miss out on celebrating valentine's day with you.

so, he buys you all of your favorite treats, allowing the various plates filled with a variety of different cakes and chocolates to surround you. he admires the look of happiness on your face, basking in the way you ate each pastry in such a meticulous manner, as if wishing to savor every bit of it.

in the midst of caleb admiring you, he notices the whipped cream settled on top of your lips, feeling a devilish grin forming against his features. he says your name, breaking your attention away from your cake. "hm?" you face him just then, allowing caleb to lean forward to capture your lips in a chaste kiss as his tongue swipes away at the cream. caleb relishes in the way you were trembling before sitting back down in his seat, picking up his cup of coffee while taking a casual sip.

noticing the heat settled on your cheeks and the way your expression turned sheepish, he had to bite back the urge to chuckle at you while ruffling at your hair.

i could get used to this soft happiness. caleb thinks to himself, focusing his attention once more on your achingly cute features and how you were too shy to meet his gaze.

end notes: i feel like all of us wanted infold to drop a fluffy banner, but was a little disappointed / shocked when it didn't happen and got something feral instead 😭🙌🏻 so have this fluffy drabble instead to fill your needs for a fluffy valentine's day with our lads boys 🥰

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — sae itoshi & rin itoshi: new frames, same heartthrob !

synopsis: coming home from a long day, you're caught off guard by the rare sight of him wearing glasses.

sae itoshi x reader / rin itoshi x reader ⭑ drabble / fluff / hot nerd moment ??? + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: I LOVEEEE MEN WHO WEAR GLASSES AND ARE ATTRACTIVE AND READ LIKE LORDDD GIVE ME ONE OF THOSE PLEASE

— rin itoshi

you came home from uni later than usual, keys jangling as you pushed open the door, already rehearsing your dramatic sigh about how your day had been hell. but the words died the second your eyes landed on your boyfriend.

rin was sitting on the couch, a novel in one hand, his other arm resting casually along the backrest. a soft, lamplight glow spilled over the room, catching in the dark strands of his hair and the clean lines of his fitted shirt, the one with the sleeves just tight enough to show off the way his biceps flexed every time he turned a page.

and the glasses.

thin. black frames. new. sharp. criminal.

your mouth may have gone a little dry.

he didn't look up at first, flipping the page with that same casual grace he always carried, but you swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

"stop staring," he said without looking at you.

you blinked, still frozen in place. "since when do you wear glasses?"

"a few days," he replied, finally glancing at you over the top of them. his eyes, usually sharp and cool, softened just slightly like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"i-" you started, then stopped. "you look really good."

his lip quirked. "obviously."

you walked over and dropped your bag by the couch. "no like, unfairly good. unethically hot and everything."

he finally closed the book, slipping a thumb between the pages. "then come here."

you did. because you always did. and when he pulled you into his lap and kissed you slow, glasses and all, you decided sleep could wait a little longer.

— sae itoshi

you didn't expect sae to be home yet.

the apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, only the soft hum of the heater breaking the silence. you dropped your bag by the door and rounded the corner, then froze.

sae sat on the couch, legs crossed, a book resting in one hand while the other toyed absentmindedly with the edge of the page. a fitted button-down hung loosely off his shoulders, sleeves rolled just high enough to reveal his forearms. but it wasn't the shirt or even the way his fingers moved with quiet precision.

it was the glasses.

thick, black, perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose. he never wore them. at least, not around you.

you blinked, your breath catching in your throat like your body had short-circuited at the sight.

sae glanced up slowly, noticing you for the first time. his eyes met yours, unbothered.

"you're home early," he said, voice low and even.

you swallowed hard. "you never told me you wore glasses."

"they're just for reading," he replied, then went back to his page like he hadn't just shattered your heart with how he looked.

you stood there, dazed.

he looked up again after a moment, faint amusement tugging at his mouth. "you're staring."

"you're unfair," you muttered.

that earned the ghost of a smirk. "and you're easily distracted."

you crossed the room and flopped onto him, your body pressing into his side as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. sae stiffened for half a second, then relaxed, his hand shifting automatically to your waist, pulling you closer in a way that felt almost natural.

"you're too good-looking for your own good."

he exhaled, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "is that so?"

you nodded into his shoulder, not even caring that he could feel your heartbeat racing.

sae was quiet for a moment before he muttered under his breath, more like he was talking to himself, "you're ridiculous."

but his arm around you tightened and you smiled.

he might never know how much that tiny, fleeting moment of him in glasses made you fall in love all over again.

[grotesquevi]

HOLAAAA no se si todavía estás escribiendo prompts pero smut prompt #15 con ellie…? DEVORARÍAS AMOR😘 t amou

cw  # ellie's a pervert and a loser we. fucking. love. it. slight sub!ellie + mean reader, dirty talk, voyeurism, guided masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, as usual i hit a word count bigger than expected (2.8k), fuck drabbles these things are turning into full blown fics.

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎ check out the 1k directory || listen to huggin & kissin

"do you always draw your fantasies with other girls or is this a pleasure reserved for me only?" your words makes her paralyzed for a moment when ellie arrives in her room and sees the tangible disaster like a low-budget movie reproducing in front of her eyes — "is that me? cause it looks like me."

neck deep. your girlfriend’s neck deep when she notices you comfortably laying in the middle of her bed, when her vision dallies against your figure like she’s never seen you enough times already, like she needs one more look to keep you burning alive in her memory for as long as her brain can keep you around. it's usually like this anyway, you're a distraction, the worst of all distractions in a nerd's world.

"what are you doing?" it's weird cause you don't know how to describe it at first: is she pissed because you’re stalking her little book? nervous? either way, ellie's quick when her hand grips the black sketchbook you're holding, shoving it behind her back like it would change the fact she's been horny-drawing her fantasies for months and you didn't see none of them until just now. "c'mon let me see. that was pretty realistic, you're hella talented."

"that's none of your business" she replies making you sigh in annoyance. it's not something you'll forget easily, not in circumstances like this i mean: it’s you the one who’s there in the pages of ellie’s book, your face — "those are not meant to be seen-"

"what- are you jerking off to your draws?" the way you laugh makes her skin shiver, when you're turning to look at her and she can see the physical expansion of your chest in the most mundane act "that's hella greedy els. thought you'd be using porn like the rest of us mortals or texting me when you get horny."

"i’m not-” she’s blushing cause it’s lame at this point, the biggest loser on campus who’s lucky enough to have the popular girl all over her. “you weren’t supposed to see them, this has a rational explanation.”

“yeah? how long does it take you to draw one? the one where i was eating you out- s’pretty accurate and holds insane detail.”

“oh christ,” you saw that? makes her curse at herself for the incompetence, the way she seems to malfunction for a second “i-uh, i think- dunno, three hours if i take my time with shading?” why is she even talking about that? let alone admitting something so personal? makes her brain stupid for a short span of five minutes, precious minutes you take advantage from the moment you notice how shy she suddenly is.

how did you end up like this anyway? invading her space like you’re a soldier of the crusade battling for holy terrain, quicker than she is when you're stealing her sketchbook again with one hand, using the other to keep ellie still under you, fingers burning right against her chest.

"why are you so nervous huh? you weren't nervous at all when you drew all of this, let me see more of your pervy mind."

like this ellie would agree to anything you want. like this she cares less about her inhibitions, the blush that makes her skin warmer as you're straddling her lap, pushing your weight against her pelvic bone to sit there in the perfect spot so she can feel your ass crushing her.

"three hours. if you invested three hours in each draw," her breathing hitches in the back of her throat at the observation, when you're placing her book right over her chest where your hand rested before, using her as a table "on each page there's at least a dozen-hour investment, how long you've been doing this? god. you're such a selfish gay."

"huh, turns out you can count" ellie teases, hands gripping your thighs, she squeezes the flesh of your legs when speaking, pushing you further down against her figure. "they're lame. most of them are just thoughts i get in the middle of the day."

"i do know how to count asshole, do not change the subject. you get randomly horny in the middle of the day?" you cannot help but marvel at the idea of it, how your girlfriend says it like it was the most simple thing in existence — "from just a thought?"

“yeah,” so its hard for ellie to keep the hands to herself when you're like this, when your shorts give her enough space to touch, to let her hands glide against your skin to leave her fingerprints in your inner thighs — "you don't?"

"i dunno. i do get sex flash-backs, nothing too extravagant. tell me more about this" you're too concentrated on her drawings to pay attention to her touch. discovering instead a piece of her mind, almost like she finally allowed you to carve into her brain: three hours? more like fucking six, suffering from more details that invaded her mind all of sudden, more and more stuff she wants to add: the lamp in your room, your favorite duvet, your set of rings. "what's your favorite one?"

its funny how minutes before ellie was close to dying of shame, sure you're going to call her a weirdo, some sort of horny freak, but instead she gets a much nicer treatment when you're giving her the greatest view of you comfortably seated on top of her, forgetting about personal space as she's pointing the last pages, some very detailed illustrations that make your brows furrow as you take the image in.

"i dreamt about this last week" your girlfriend explains like she's needs to say it out loud so long ago, eager to let you know what other filthy fantasy she's been having without you noticing "a lot. couldn't help it."

"am i-"

"yes," she knows what you're going to ask beforehand, and finally — fucking finally, she enjoys the success of making you nervous, of making your breathing shallow for a moment as a way of payback since you're all ellie can think about lately. "just like you are now, you're masturbating on top of me and letting me see."

the details are clear and the drawing could easily ban her from every social media platform. she remembers the naked details of your body; the parts you try to hide and that for her are so easy to manifest it in a few traces of graphite pen.

"shit. you're really good at this."

"at drawing you completely fucked? i know" so she's cocky for a minute, cant help it when her hands feel adventurous, when tugging on the button of your short even if you're too invested in the details of each sketch: not every day you can see the pornographic version of yourself shoving your fingers up in your cunt, the perspective she used already complex that comes from beneath and you get what she means before cause it's true, she's right — just like you are right now, on top of her. “i think i have a good memory when it comes to this.”

she thinks. how fun things turn out when she thinks.

“the rational excuse you said before,” the question lingers in the air for a brief moment: she cannot possibly escape from you. “what is it? your explanation to this.”

none. there’s no rational explanation when you're looking back at her, cornering your girl against her own mattress. ellie's enjoying it too much when you're leaning to plant some kisses on the side of her face, gentle ones until you're biting on the flesh of her shoulder, making her whine and its so hard to even think about something to say, something good enough for you to believe.

“it’s some sort of dream journal.”

“you suck at lying,” you state biting her again, enough this time to leave a mark behind with your teeth in it, makes ellie shiver and its so nice to see it from where you are, that sound she makes when the pain hits her unexpected, "lie to me again and i'll bite you even harder."

"ngh- it's because i want to remember," she admits when her body betrays her as you're licking the marks your teeth left, soothing the sting of the pain spreading against her shoulder "i want to remember, you're imprinted in my brain. every night- it's there repeating by itself and i try not to think about it but the sounds you make, your pretty face always distorted in a pleasure that reaches beyond hallucination i'm bringing to you — it's not my fault i- i was going to share it with you someday."

“maybe you could stop pretending to be shy instead so we can try some new stuff out" you suggest when sitting up again, and ellie's melting at the missing feeling of your lips in her neck: she's so easy like this when she's successful to unbuckle your shorts so the fabric can pool right over your hip bones, when noticing the blue underwear you're wearing "i can be good and make your filthy dreams a reality.”

decisions make on their own when ellie's kissing you. deep, needy, her kiss is clumsy when leaning forward, pulling on your shirt just to drag you closer, annihilate any space you choose to leave before the air urges in your lungs and she's giving you enough time to catch your breath before leaning in again, an ocean of emotions that seemed to hold your girlfriend hostage.

"i should be mad at you," you say between kisses, your breathing turns out to be hot against ellie's skin "the drawings- it's hot as fuck, and you're keeping it to yourself."

"i'll make it up to you" she promises. dizzy, its unclear when ellie's the one taking advantages, when she's using her hands to raise your shirt now from over your chest, kneading your tits together only for the obscenity of it, the way you arch your back like you're a reward after a long day "we'll try every draw until you're fully satisfied. it's a promise."

it becomes hard to respond when your girlfriends thumb's hook in the edge of your shirt, pushing it against your parted mouth to make you bite the fabric.

"quit whining for ten minutes and keep your shirt up there so i can see your tits" — "your hands will be busy so don't give me that look."

she's pointing out to her sketchbook like it holds the entire explanation of her plan, now handy as ever when its still wide open in her favorite pages, her most recent dreams represented with the image of you looking down. there's drool falling down ellie's stomach, your legs rest on each side of her; you lack of underwear and it's filthy, filthy cause she took her time in drawing the details of your glistening folds, managed to make it look so inviting, drenched when leaking on top of her, arousal staining ellie's jeans shaded in darker colors.

it's much like how you were now, even when ellie's urging you to get out of your lower clothing as fast as humanly possible: fuck the damn shorts.

“put on a show for me baby and touch yourself, i want to watch."

she guides you from over your underwear, taking your hand in her own ellie places it when she wants it to be, mouth-watering cause fuck yes — it's exactly what she's been dreaming about, exactly what she's been missing when you're rubbing your clit from over the fabric and your arousal slowly spreads in the cotton panties already proving how wet you are from before.

it's a triumph. makes ellie smile when she can so easily see the outlines of your sex already dripping for her, when you're exposed after so much banter, when finally letting her know how you're actually turned on by all the weirdness. the sounds of your moans muffle against your shirt, and the oversized fabric does a good job in soaking up the drool already staining it a different color, to keep your moans low.

so fun to see you like this — so vulnerable.

"that's it rub your clit like that" ellie's weak when she uses a finger to help you make your underwear to the side, sticky in her hand it stays there glued to her index finger, silver rings dirty already with you "fuck- you look so beautiful like this."

the shirt falls against your tits, the slow movements of your hips now enough to have you rubbing yourself against the rough fabric of her jeans, the textured planar working wonders when you remember also, you have free will to speak.

"no touching-" you demand, and ellie nods at your words cause you call the shots, you dictate how far this goes, how long she gets to keep seeing you like this. "in your draws, you're not touching me- you just watch. watch."

"i'm helping you get this out of the way" watch. ellie can do that, you're pinching on your stiffed nipples with one hand, moving your other in circles right there in the right spot, using her for your pleasure as she's gifted the greatest view, the show you're putting up for her only.

how lucky of you. how lucky to have her drinking in every last detail, the moans you try to hide for a moment as if she wont listen to you under the subtle lights of her room, the ones that illuminate your form just enough to have her gasping: the things she would do to touch you, to latch her mouth against your nipple and mark you down until you're not looking at her as arrogant as you are.

"faster," she says. "you know you can go faster than that, don't be lazy."

she's not touching you, not in the important places at least. ellie's holding you by the wrist as she instructs you. her fingers move with yours in clear indications, separating your folds apart, teasing your entrance without giving in, she's the one that guides your digits in their eager journey, allowing you to feel how soaked she has you.

"all of this for a few horny drawings," ellie's words blur with each other, shaking her head like she don't believe it still "keep rubbing yourself against my pants baby. i want to see if you're dumb enough to cum all over my jeans."

and her fingers are soaked, yours too, drips down your inner thighs making a mess on her blue jeans. its obvious when there's a squelch sound filling the room for a minute, when your fingers shove inside your cunt and you're fucking yourself just like she wanted to, stuffing yourself full right on top of her, sensitive as ever you keep going even when your body spasms.

its fascinating how fast the façade comes apart. when you're panting once again on top of her, when you find the pace you want, the rhythm you crave as your fingers disappear under her green eyes and ellie's hands lock around your waist making you move quicker than before.

"you're so brainless from some dry humping, my girl's gonna cum?" she teases for a moment, enjoying the look in your eyes like you wanted to be buried alive — "already ruined my pants so go ahead and make a good mess in 'em."

is it normal to be so deep into someone? is it normal when she's pushing you without caring about any oversensitivity? she's making you stand on your knees, leaving enough space in your parted legs so she can settle between them and it's too fast, cause you're having trouble understanding what exactly she's doing until she's biting on your inner thigh with the same force you did on her shoulder before.

"ellie, good fuck that hurts-"

"sit," she invites at first when using force to prevent you from yanking away from her mouth — "please, i won't mess with you anymore just sit-"

so she's leaving her marks on your skin once again cause she wants everyone to know about how she constantly makes you feel, how she's able to reduce you to this mess even when your friends make fun of her, how she's hella good in making you moan, especially when you finally sit and ellie's granted the perfect access to bury herself nose-deep in your soaked cunt.

delightful. she wishes to share all of her drawings now. she has plenty now to try now that she surrenders any kind of shame: turns out being a pervert is excellent when your girlfriend's equally as dirty-minded as you are.

find yourself someone who likes every part of you — that's what everyone says, isn't it? i mean. ellie gets it too now.

[cosmicofdistortions]

@kitxkatrp asked: Send 🔮 to look into my muse's past. (Cui)

"So you're the concept of origin huh?"

The woman's words brought Cui's eyes away from the scenery before her, her smile dropping into a frown at the other's inquiry.... no, accusation.

"......why do you think that?" Her words were low, careful even, trying to gauge what the woman wanted. This wasn't the first time someone could comprehend what she was, but this was the first time someone had the courage to be so upfront about it. In a way that sort of bravery unnerved her.

The woman stood just slightly shorter than Cui, with green hair cascading down her back that ended in black ends. She also had an unnerving green gaze that made Cui internally tense up.

"Because! It's not every day a woman like myself gets to meet someone so strong and important~!"

The flattery made Cui tilt her head to one side, the frown only deepening. She was trying very very hard to get her to drop her guard.... almost like she wanted something. No. She did want something. Cui recognized that sort of flattery after a moment and her shoulders drew back in agitation.

"I am not someone like that. I am just any other person." Cui's words were curt, to the point.

Her sharp pink gaze kept on the other, never taking her eyes off her. Something didn't sit right....

"Miss. I'm sure you know by now I already know. So there's no use lying about it~ I actually sought you out because I wanted to make sure! See. I'm a researcher for an institute that wants to help people! I was hoping you see, that you would be willing to partner with me!"

The word dump caused Cui's ears to twitch lightly, brow furrowing at her words.

"You want me... to help you at... a research place? To look towards helping other people?" While it sounded good in practice, the way the woman was going about it was wrong. Very wrong. "I'm sorry but I help people on my own, and humans help other humans just fine without my help too." It may sound cruel, but it was better she didn't directly create cures or fixes for humans. They might get dependent....

However by now she was rising to her feet, dusting off a pant leg as she sighed. At least until the woman smiled gleefully and spoke once more.

"Well....you don't necessarily have a choice in the matter~ Miss~ Ori~gin~ I've been looking all over for you, studying what I could of the materials you left behind... Actually I'm quite confident in my ability to make you do what I want~!"

That was a first, someone- let alone a human- confident in their ability to face off against her? However over her years she knew humans were resourceful, and that worried her. Used materials left? Was she talking about the shards of her power left behind when she fought to protect people?

Something flew towards her, her reaction speed much quicker than the object and it drew her gaze towards it. A small dart. Interesting. So the other was planning on drugging her with that? If she thought that was going to—

Shit.

"!!!"

"Oops~ You looked away! You sure have a few fatal flaws don't you~!"

Her attention had been on the dart, and the one who had launched it, so much so she'd slipped and failed to realize the other had gotten within her personal space- all the way up until it was nigh too late.

Drip... Drip...

She jerked away, hand immediately clutching at the stab wound on her side. It hadn't been in a fatal area, but still... that dagger.... Was different.

A shudder ran through her body. Like something was struggling. Then like a light switch, her legs gave out, the strength leaving her body. That blade.... had a poison made from her own energy...! If there was one Achilles heel she had, it was her own power was able to be used against herself.

She struggled to right herself, getting a hand underneath her as blood dripped from her lips and pushing herself upwards a small margin. She could barely move in so little time... How long had...!?

A gasp left the concept, eyes widening in almost fear as a shadow passed over her, pulling her gaze back towards the woman who grinned smugly and flicked her tongue across the red tainting the knife.

"This was made especially for you~ See. I want to see how far your energy can be used... so I needed you to be unable to resist and you fell right into my hands so easily! You must have a secret soft spot for people don't you? Always wanting to help, so much it makes you lower your guard even in situations were you're in danger~"

She mocked her, lambasted her, and pushed a foot against Cui's side as another shudder ran down the woman's spine. Then it turned, her body jerking lightly as the weakness was replaced with agony. Endless impossible agony. What was...? No that wasn't possible.... She.... couldn't... The woman was pulling her energy out of her against her will. It was making every fiber of Cui's being scream in pain, despite only weak hisses and whimpers left her. It was like someone was plucking atom by atom out of her body and leaving her fully aware.

It was hell.

This was hell.

Hell that wasn't about to end soon as she could only watch in horror as the woman seemed to set up her work right then and there. She was intending to use her for her own gain, and didn't want to risk moving her. She was going to torture her at this rate.....!

All she could focus on in her pain was the grin that seemed so permanently fixed upon the other woman's face.

Never again....

I swear... if I get free. If I get my hands on you.... I will kill you....!

The only human- the only being in the world she'd kill without hesitation despite wanting to save those she could....

At this point the pain of her existence had reached a level Cui couldn't remain aware, and would allow herself to be swallowed by her thoughts, just trying to blot out the pain.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Male Harem of Bullies

Kinktober Day 9: Bullies/Gang Bang

Four Male Animal-Human Hybrid Yanderes x Feminized Male Ferret-Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, ass eaten like it's groceries, bullying, fivesome, gang bang, double penetration, triple penetration, more double penetration, forced feminization, crossdressing, kidnapping, non-human genitalia, massive horse dick, colossal rhino cock, slimy reptilian dicks, rhino-man, horse-man, lizard-man, bull-man, male harem, oral sex, anal sex, bottom reader, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Slightly different from my initial vision but much better imho, made to be expanded on with drabbles involving each man, possibly multiple drabbles with each exploring different situations.)

Baryn the Bully. A brash, arrogant, cocky, oversexed rhino hybrid jock who thought more with his dick than his brain. He was the star of the college's football team, so of course, he was extremely popular.

You were the complete opposite. A small, intelligent, and soft spoken male ferret hybrid. A total nerd. Always kept your head down, and often between the pages of a book.

While he was a bit rude to the other geeks, he reserved his worst behavior for you. Trapping you in your locker, pantsing you, making fun of you.

There wasn't any recourse. There was no way the college was going to punish their most talented football player. And you weren't made of money, you couldn't just transfer to another school.

And you didn't want to leave anyway! Why should you? You liked your classes, you had friends in your dorm, and you only lived one town away from family. You could handle a little bullying if it meant keeping all those perks. Not to mention the campus library. It was colossal. And where you spent the vast majority of your spare time.

That's where you were on the night of the big football game, in the library studying with your friend, and roommate, Nat. With the vast majority of students preparing to watch the game with their friends from their dorms or attend live, the library was nearly empty.

"I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

Nat made a sound of acknowledgment as he continued his studies.

On your way out of the restroom, you smacked right into Baryn. A wall of thick grey muscle. What the hell was he doing in the library at all, let alone before a big game? You flicked your tail nervously as he smirked at you wickedly. You only saw that expression on him before he bullied you in some way. You noticed he was carrying a large gym bag.

"Just who I was looking for!"

Baryn gave you no time to complain as he quickly stuffed you into the duffel bag and left. It stank heavily of the rhino's heady musk, the smell making you quite a bit dizzy. You had no idea where he was taking you. Despite your shouts and thrashing, no one stopped to help. Either they were too scared of the big rhino-man, or they recognized him and figured it was just a silly jock or frat prank.

And you had thought it was some fucked up joke too. Maybe he was going to keep you in this bag during the game or put you in a locker, but it was far worse than that.

You felt the bag being set down gently. It was opened soon after that. You immediately leapt out, claws at the ready. You scratched and bit at Baryn's tough skin. You didn't even register that he was naked. He chuckled as the most you managed to do was cause a stray trickle of blood here and there.

"Love it when ya start throwin' a hissy fit."

He smacked your ass playfully before  he started removing your clothing. By then, tears were running down your face as you cried in frustration.

"F-fuck off! Give me m-my clothes!"

He sat on the sofa and pulled you into his lap. A strong hand was over your mouth, and he held you close, forcing you to lean back into his chest. He nuzzled your neck, careful not to poke you with the horn that tipped his nose.

"Just relax, darlin." You're gonna help me and the bros with a lil' pre-game tradition we have."

He took his free hand and fondled your cock and balls.

"We always have a good fuck before a big game! The gals we normally use weren't available for the job. It's super easy, y'all ain't even gotta do any work. Just be a good fleshlight for us."

At that, you thrashed and let out muffled screams, you didn't want this fucker's dick in you. Just then, the door burst open, and the other top three football players who were members of Baryn's frat barged in.

Mikael, the part horse hybrid. He was really tall but still pretty muscular. His ears and tail were the only visible horse traits, but there were rumors his dick was horse-like, too.

Alvaro, the lizard hybrid. He was a bit short but extremely strong. Eyes like a snake, with scales framing his face and covering his arms, legs, and tail.

The final one inside was Krash, at least that's what everyone called him. He was a bull man. He was as tall and muscled as Baryn, but fur covered his entire body with the exception of his face. He was also equipped with two large curved horns.

All of your bullies were assembled to make your life worse.

"Yo, you already started without us?" Inquired Alvaro.

"Nah, I was just explaining the job to our new girlfriend. About how she just has to stay still and let it happen. I hadn't gotten to the part about how we decided that she would be our girlfriend permanently, though," explained Baryn.

You were trembling. The way that they were staring at you. The way they were talking. They were insane.

Mikael leaned down and licked up your tears before chuckling.

"Aww, don't be scared. We won't hurt you, cutie. You're lucky. We all wanted to share a girlfriend for our pre-game tradition, and we all had a crush on you! Don't you feel lucky?" he said in a mocking tone.

"Course we're all bi, but kinda prefer women. More acceptable for my family, too. So we've decided that you're a lady now. And none of us gentlemen would bully a lady, so if you cooperate, we'll treat ya a lot better," the rhino cooed into your ear while rubbing your thighs.

"N-no! Just let me go! You aren't treating me b-better, j-just trading one torture for a-a-another!!" You began sobbing and shaking inconsolably.

Not to worry though, you're four new boyfriends knew just how to cheer up their little lady friend. You were clearly just moody and upset by a lack of proper attention. You obviously needed their seed in your belly.

Krash wordlessly kneeled between your legs and held your legs still with his strong hands. He used his broad tongue to apply thick drool to your hole, slipping it into you and massaging it as well as he could. You had to be as stretched, lubed, and relaxed as possible if you were going to take all of them.

You twitched and shuddered as the unwelcome intrusion made your cock stand up.

"Pl-please sto-," you whined pitifully before being cut off by Mikael.

"Stop? You clearly like it!" He leaned over Krash and rubbed a finger up and down your cock to tease you.

Baryn bit and sucked on your neck before you could reply, causing your mind to go a bit blank with how good it felt in conjunction with Krash's sloppy tongue tending to your ass.

"I think that means she's ready," someone chuckled. You couldn't tell who, though. Your brain was soup. It must have been Baryn because he was the first to slip his cock into you once Krash stopped licking.

It must have been more rhino like than human because the ridges and folds made you drool when you felt them slowly move back and forth against your inner walls. While Baryn continued fucking into you slowly Krash decided to suck on your leaking dick.

"Damn, she really does like it," Alvaro mused as you bucked instinctively into Krash's warm, inviting mouth.

You moaned as you came and then relaxed quite a bit. Since you were so well stretched and much more compliant now, Krash got up and positioned himself in front of you and slipped his dick in beside Baryn's. The stretch was uncomfortable but not painful. They were careful to go at a slow pace that their previously virgin girlfriend could handle.

Krash didn't last too terribly long. He had forgotten to jerk off several times so that he could last a long time like the others had told him to. With a grunt, he emptied his large furry nuts into you, then pulled out and let Alvaro take his place.

Alvaro, being reptilian, had two hard cocks ready to sink into you. And he did so eagerly. Both of them were slimy and tapered and had no issue fitting into you, especially with Krash's cum having lubed you up so well. He went at a faster pace than Krash had or Baryn was.

Luckily, you were ready by that point. Baryn matches his pace since you were taking them so well. Both men whispered praises into your ear since you were taking them all just so perfectly. Alvaro claimed your mouth with his and snaked his long tongue into your mouth.

Your whole body shuddered around their dicks as you came again, this time from their cocks battering a special spot inside of you.

"So sex hungry, this one. Can't wait for my turn."

Mikael didn't have a long wait. Baryn and Alvaro finally unloaded into you simultaneously, a vast torrent of cum that started to bulge out your belly.

"Fuck, you're the best hole I've ever had!"

Alvaro pulled out after making sure he finished loading you with his semen.

"Yeah, darlin' we're gonna have to do this a lot."

With a loud squelch, Baryn lifted you up and swapped places with Mikael, who quickly settled you on his dick. The flared tip went in easily with how "well-loved" your hole was from your other three boyfriends. He had you facing him so he could kiss your fucked out face.

Your stare was blank, your face flushed, and the only sounds you could make was feeble mewling as hid large equine prick made an outline in your belly. He pressed your face into his armpit so that you could get a nose full of his pheromone laden musk. He needed you to reek of him.

After that, the horse hybrid bit at your neck, all while he pounded into you tirelessly. When he eventually came, it made your belly bulge further. When he pulled out an incredible amount of cum dribbled down his cock and onto his balls.

You were tired but remained conscious, your brain struggling to comprehend the violation that just occurred. Your body was limp. At least it made you easy to clean up.

"Girls just need dick to calm them down, I guess," mumbled Arvalo.

"Well, I reckon we know what to do when she gets bratty," Baryn replied.

They took you gently and cleaned you up in the tub, all of them praising you for doing so well. Once they had you clean, they dressed up in a cheerleader outfit. It was the cutest thing they had ever seen. It had been a wise decision to bribe your roommate Nat to get your measurements for them while you slept. You were embarrassed but didn't complain. You knew it wouldn't do any good. The will to fight had been thoroughly fucked out of you.

They each scented you and your clothing to make sure their combined smell clung to you. No one would dare touch their precious nerdy girlfriend.

When it was time for the game, they had you sit beside the benched players, right between some players they trusted. You looked down awkwardly the majority of the time with your tail curled closely around you. They won that game by a wider margin than they had won any game before! They chalked it up to their newly enhanced tradition of bedding you combined with your presence at the game.

It was certainly something they'd have to do every single time!

[marvelstoriesepic]

Somewhere Between Chapters

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: On a rare day off, you escape to the park with a book and no plans, followed and joined by Bucky.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff; mutual pining

Author’s Note: Ahh I loved some pure fluff for a change again. Thank you for sending me this lovely request!! I hope you enjoy ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

You'd forgotten the way it felt to pause.

To inhale.

To just be.

And so when your mission schedule coughed up an unexpected day off - when the universe, in its infinite chaos, cracked open and let you go outside - you listened. You laced your boots, grabbed a book you'd been pretending to read for weeks, and walked until the city felt like a dream someone else was having.

The park smells like grass and laughter, and there is a soft breeze tracing letters across your skin like some sort of code you don’t need to decipher.

You find a bench under a flowering tree that doesn’t know how to stop blooming, and you sit, and you breathe.

The sky is soft today.

A blue that’s been washed too many times in the sink, but still looks beautiful. It hangs wide over the park, spills over the grass, and you feel it warming the top of your head.

You don’t want noise. Or missions. Or anyone asking you how you’re feeling because they already know the answer is complicated. You just want this. A park. A book. A sky.

And apparently, a Bucky Barnes.

You don’t notice him until he’s standing right in front of you and you turn a page that suddenly means nothing.

Bucky moves like guilt and history and poetry someone tried to erase. You didn’t see him coming. Didn’t see him watching. But there’s a silence following him. Something you always pick up - the subtle way the world makes space when he walks through it. You look up and your breath catches on his name.

His hair is slightly windswept. The clean-cut line of his jaw is staring right at you. He’s wearing that navy jacket you like, the one with the collar he keeps turning up when he’s pretending not to care what you think. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands there as if it’s normal.

You don’t know what to do with your hands.

“Hey,” he then says, voice low and slightly raspy.

You tilt your head. “Did you follow me?”

“Nah,” he lies. “I was just walking.”

You look at him. At his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The slight slope of his shoulders. The shadows under his eyes he wears like war medals.

“You were following me,” you say, slightly amused but soft, as though the words might bruise if you breathe on them too hard.

He looks away, mouth twitching as if chewing on a confession. He shrugs. “Didn’t have anything else going on.”

Which is a lie. You know it. He’s always got something going on. Missions. Meetings. Therapy. Hunched broodingly over the kitchen counter. Steve breathing down his neck.

He chose to come here. He followed you. And maybe that shouldn’t make your heart flutter the way it does, but it does. It flutters like a page caught in wind.

“Can I sit?” he asks, pointing at the place right beside you.

You nod before your heartbeat remembers how to say no.

Bucky sits beside you. You hear him let out a breath.

You open your book again, but the words are blurring slightly. He’s warm beside you. A slow, solid warmth. Like safety, if safety had stubble and blue eyes that refused to meet yours.

You glance at him, but he’s looking at the book in your lap as if it holds answers. As if it holds you. “What’re you reading?”

You show him the cover. He nods as though it means something to him, but it doesn’t. You know it doesn’t.

“Read to me?” he asks quietly.

Your gaze falls to him.

He doesn’t look at you when he asks. Just stares straight ahead, as though the request might have been an accident. As though allowing you to simply ignore it.

But you don’t.

You nod. It’s all you can do. You start reading aloud, the words trembling slightly at first, but then softening with the wind.

Bucky listens with the kind of attention you might think he’d use only on a battlefield. When it’s about life and death. But he listens to you as if your words are a map, and he’s trying to find his way home through the sound of your voice.

At some point, you forget what the story is about.

Because you can feel his gaze on you. Not constant - just glancing. As if trying not to be obvious. As if memorizing your profile in stolen pieces. The curve of your cheek. The way your lips move when you say words like hope and light and tethered.

You pause to turn the page, and his fingers brush yours.

An accident, probably.

You keep reading anyway.

He leans back, one arm stretching across the back of the bench. As if it belongs near you. And every now and then, his fingers touch the sleeve of your shirt and your skin forgets how to be still.

He closes his eyes. Maybe wanting to remember the sound of your voice. Trying to memorize it, tuck it away, in case he doesn’t get to hear it again soon.

You steal a glance at him when you think he won’t notice.

But he notices. Of course, he does.

He opens his eyes, catches you looking, and instead of looking away, you both just hold your gazes there. Caught in the space between chapters. Between breaths. Between all the things you’ve never said out loud.

You want to tell him he didn’t need to come. That he could have stayed back at the tower. You want to tell him that this is your favorite kind of day and now it’s somehow better.

But all you say is, “You like it?”

He doesn’t look away from you when he answers. “Yeah.”

“A specific part?”

He swallows. “All of it.”

And maybe he means the book. Or the breeze. Or the way you sit beside him and read to him as if he’s not someone dangerous.

Maybe he just means you.

You don’t answer. Not with words. Just a smile. A real one. The kind that starts in your chest and climbs all the way to your eyes.

He shifts, a little closer, until your knees brush. Until the warmth of him sinks into your side and you feel less like one person and more like a sentence that finally found its ending.

And you keep reading.

Because it’s the only way to keep breathing.

Because if you stop, you might say all the things you’ve been carrying, and he might say them back.

And the world might turn around.