inkykeiji · 7 months ago
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halfway through my run i was kicked in the head with one of the worst migraines i’ve ever had and i was like ????? what the fuck wHERE did this come from
& then i remembered my period is coming tomorrow :)
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brainrotarchive · 4 months ago
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girlhood is all fun and games until a man gets the credits for your first professional achievement
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arolesbianism · 7 months ago
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Thinking abt how much I love oni's writing again... In particular, "a seed is planted" continues to be one of if not my favorite logs because despite the troubling details and implications that come with it, it's the one thing in the entirety of the decaying corpse of gravitas that genuinely leaves us with a grain of hope (a seed if you will) and makes oni as a whole a lot more bitter sweet as while earth may not have survived, the dupes did, and after their horrible origins and the shit that many of them went through, in due time they'll finally get to just live, they're free now, and even if Olivia's sleep is end of a tragedy, the world will keep moving forward with or without those who've been lost
#rat rambles#oni posting#like I guess I just rly love that oni both manages to commit to being a tragedy while also leaving a world still in motion#like Im glad that olivia didnt get a bittersweet ending and instead got a fucking miserable one#while at the same time the dupes are still left there to keep moving forward#well ok more so I like how the narrative shifts into smth quite beautiful when seen from the dupes perspectives#which is also why I like that the dupes are rarely talked abt directly in the lore logs#idk I just feel like a seed is planted wouldnt hit as hard to me if the dupes were talked abt more#its the same sort of incedental storytelling that I like abt the rest of oni's writing ig#also I just think them being a major part of the lore logs would rly take away from the greater horrors and tragedies of gravitas#like idk I think it would have been a lot more boring if a third of the logs were just jackie going so yeah I tortured dupes some more#it makes the pre end of the world world feel so much bigger while still mostly remaining within gravitas itself#enhances the feeling of glimpsing into a past world#like every now and then I think abt what oni story could have looked like and am filled with joy at what it is now#I fucking love being into fiction thats good god it feels so good to like shit thats just like actually good#it honestly makes me almost wish there wouldnt be new lore but I do think theres room for more#as in theres plenty of room to make shit up and also we need to see more of the scientists pls#as for actual quote unquote plot stuff idk just give me like one jackie and olivia college year video transcript or smth and we're good#theres other stuff that make me lose my mind but for narrative consistency I think itd be best to not touch those two too much#especially olivia I rly think she doesnt need almost any new content the only stuff Id want with her is if it expanded upon jackie#because rly jackie is the only character I think would super heavily benefit from elaboration even if I stand by her not needing much#as Ive said a billion times just smth small to show us her in a more casual setting and we're golden I think#show me that woman being genuinely happy so I can fill in the blanks as she slowly gets crushed by the consequences of her actions#shes a part of this tragedy too and god damnit I want to see the life she ruined along the way of ruining many others#I want to see a woman whos eyes once shined and then when the lights have dulled I want her to say it was worth it with no conviction#metaphorically ofc I dont actually want to see most of it because thatd go against the narrative philosophy already established#rly all this means is I wanna see jackie and olivia doing laundry together or smth#oh also I hope they specifically give otto a whole other log just to clear up my pronoun woes#idc what its abt just have them talk abt their gender offhand or smth#just mi-ma being like how do you do young man and otto is like they and mi-ma is like ah yes young they
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pseudowho · 6 days ago
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"Yuuji-- if you don't mind, can I ask you something?"
Yuuji looked up from his phone, feeling so grown up to be in the Jujutsu High staffroom with Kento. He raised his eyebrows, the scar across his lip tugging up.
"Uh...yeah, sure. Go crazy."
"What is scary dog privilege, exactly?"
"Scary dog privilege? Huh, well...let's see, uhm...so it's like..."
Yuuji explained, all peaches and wide eyes and animated hands. Kento nodded occasionally, listening intently. His mind, naturally, strayed to you; you were what this was all about, after all.
As with any thought of you (you being his blossoming latent obsession), Kento's stomach flipped, his grip tightening fractionally around his coffee.
Kento remembered.
He remembered when he dropped you home. You checked over your shoulder, again, and again, and again, before you unlocked your door and hurried inside.
He remembered how he had once walked up behind you without much thought, and you spun with panic in your eyes. Kento recalled how quickly you had relaxed, to see it was him, and how high his hope climbed as a result.
He remembered how you had spilled the contents of your bag. You snatched your pepper spray up in the hope that his keen eyes had missed it.
He remembered how you headed to the subway after a staff night out. Your keys had been curiously gripped between your fingers, a weapon that wasn't a weapon.
He remembered, how just the day before, he and you had walked together through central Tokyo to get lunch. You had sat on a park bench together, and Kento had been so overwhelmed by the need to hold it together, Kento, keep it together, that he barely registered the relief written on your skin.
You had eaten in comfortable silence, then leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way to the bins.
"Thanks for the scary dog privilege, Kento. It's the first time in a long time that I've relaxed in public."
Kento's eyes had drifted closed for just a few moments too long, with the warmth of your lips on his skin, and he stuttered, fumbling, unlike himself.
"Ah...scary...dog privilege?" He asked, quiet. But you were already gone; throwing your crumbs to the ducks.
Yuuji's voice snapped Kento out of memory, and back to the staffroom.
"Dunno if that makes sense, Nanamin?"
A molten pit of spite and rage ignited in Kento once he put two and two together. Scary dog privilege. He gave you scary dog privilege. Why was walking the streets in safety a privilege? Shit. Kento kept his voice level, patting Yuuji on the shoulder as he left, his steaming coffee abandoned.
"Thank you, Yuuji. Stay safe out there this afternoon, and call me when you're finished, please."
If Kento hadn't already felt dirty enough with the knowledge that he pleasured himself to thoughts of you every night, he felt worse, now. He stalked through the corridors of Jujutsu High, calling Ijichi, calling Shoko, determined to find you.
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Once you noticed how one man's gaze lingered on you, you noticed them all. To you, almost all seemed to do it, and to every woman, be they 18 or 80, tall or short or curvy or lithe or gay or straight or anywhere in between. Then, when you began to notice the gazes on 16 year olds, or 12 year olds, or--
You had nauseated by the time you turned the corner to grab lunch. Simultaneously built up and dragged down and accused, you were a madonna and a whore and a bitch. You wondered, vaguely, how deeply, how incurably the disease ran, as you entered the bustling café. You didn't want to think about it. You'd just grab food, and go, and--
"Ah. Good afternoon."
You blinked, to see Kento before you in the queue, and felt a warm burst of joy from your tummy to your toes.
"Kento, I'm...happier than you know, to see you, actually."
A satisfied hum. "I had a feeling you might be. Now...about something you said yesterday...."
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Nanami Kento didn't immediately strike one as a scary dog. He was built, yes, but his suits hid it well, and he was only a little taller than average, and really quite mild, but--
-- oh.
The way his glares could frost a soul. The way other men bounced off him, a stone wall, when a shoulder 'accidentally' hit his. The way his eyes found wayward gazes like a sniper, with the dulcet loading of a bullet behind his sneer. The silent commanding respect. The dares that other men would not dare.
It was no wonder, then, how you and Kento, became you and Shoko and Kento, became you and Shoko and Maki and Nobara and Kento. While individually able to fight your own fights, feeling Kento's scary dog privilege melt threats with acid, was a burden blissfully relieved.
With Kento's protective Midas' touch, your daily lunches turned to gold, unsullied and unmolested. Still...he was there for the whole group.
So why, then, in such a large group, did you look up to find his gaze on you, and only you? How could his eyes caress without staring? It was sorcery, surely.
Kento sequestered you one day, throwing his crumbs to the ducks alongside yours, as the others chatted on the benches behind you. You looked up, shooting him a sideways smile, and wondering how you could ever be good enough for him. He spoke quietly.
"I always believed a dog to have just one owner."
You felt your stomach twist with insinuation. You laid the thread.
"...oh?"
"And while I'm happy to offer my privileges to the benefit of a group, I...would like to be in the position to make such a privilege exclusive."
You swallowed hard, looking sideways again with hope against hope against hope against--
"Are you...saying you'd like to be my scary dog?"
"Very, very much so."
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uncookedfeeler · 1 month ago
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CITRUS I🍋
Yuna x Reader
Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,
Part 2
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Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.
Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.
After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 
This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 
As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.
You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:
"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.
"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.
"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 
"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".
"You too, Director"
You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "
You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"
Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 
"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.
"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.
The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 
"That's a nice outfit, darling."
"Thank you," she replies, blushing.
You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:
"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.
"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".
"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".
"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "
"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.
"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.
You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.
"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.
"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.
As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 
For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 
The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.
On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.
You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.
"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.
"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.
"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.
"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.
You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 
"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.
Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.
"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.
You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.
"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"
"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"
"I love you too, sweetheart"
You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.
Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 
You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.
"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.
The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.
"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.
"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?
She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.
"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.
.
.
.
The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.
It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.
"Morning dad," she says shyly.
"Hi honey, no schedule today?"
"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.
Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.
You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.
Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.
"Are you all right, darling?"
"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.
You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.
"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.
Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.
At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.
You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.
Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.
When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.
Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.
"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"
She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.
"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.
The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.
"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".
All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.
"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".
Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.
"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".
Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.
Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,
♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥
Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 
Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.
"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.
"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.
You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.
"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.
The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.
"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.
"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.
"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.
Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.
.
.
"Daddy?"
.
.
"Yes, sweetie?
.
.
"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.
The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.
I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.
"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.
Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.
"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.
"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.
Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.
Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say
My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago
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Christian Woman
(König x Nun!Reader)
Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.
Part 1
You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 
You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 
It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.
Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.
“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.
Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.
His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?
You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 
“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 
He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 
You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.
You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.
He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 
This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 
He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.
You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.
So you meet him again. 
And again… And again. 
You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.
“I guess you could put it like that.”
He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 
He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 
The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 
“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”
“What’s ‘twerking’?”
It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 
It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 
Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.
A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.
You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 
And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.
You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.
You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.
König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 
They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.
You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.
Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.
He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 
König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 
Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 
You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 
It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.
Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.
You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.
"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.
"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.
"A… A what?"
She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.
When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.
Christ have mercy…
"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"
You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 
Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.
Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.
"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.
"Did you sleep with him…?"
"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."
Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.
"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"
"Convent," you correct.
"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."
“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”
“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”
"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"
"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."
You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.
"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.
"What?"
Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.
"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.
"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"
"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."
"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."
"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”
“Oh for God’s sake…”
“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”
You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.
“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”
“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.
“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”
“Yes, but–”
“Mmh. Deep voice?”
“Umm… It’s memorable?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.
You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 
You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.
Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 
"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"
The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.
"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"
"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."
"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.
Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...
"Yours now, is he?"
"No, that was… It just slipped."
"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"
"What?! No."
"You have," she insists with a widening smile.
"No. No, I–"
"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"
You feel your lips snap into a thin line.
Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 
If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 
"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 
Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.
"What does that have to do with anything…?" 
"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.
You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.
The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 
This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.
You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.
Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.
You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 
There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.
Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.
Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.
But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.
You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.
The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 
König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.
Because…
One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 
It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.
You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”
“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 
Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.
The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.
I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.
Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.
He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.
You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.
“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.
“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”
“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.
He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.
“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.
“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 
His voice is so wickedly gentle too.
You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 
“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…
“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”
It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.
“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.
“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 
You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…
“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.
“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…
“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.
“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.
“Are you… Are you leaving then?”
“Soon.”
Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.
You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.
This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 
“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.
“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”
“That would be nice.”
“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”
“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 
“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”
You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.
“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…
You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.
“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister. 
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anadiasmount · 5 months ago
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learned from the best - jb blurb
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quick sum: jude can’t help but thank the best teacher he’s ever had. the one who taught him the language he wants to ever share and speak with you.
“tu español a mejorado bastante,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger for a few seconds. you were sat on his lap, jude looking up and rubbing his hand on your thigh “no pensé que ibas hacer eso mi amor.” (your spanish has gotten better… i didn’t think you’d do that, my love.)
“le quería enseñar a todos lo tanto que eh aprendido,” he says cheeky making you roll your eyes at his demeanor. “además era el momento perfecto, no crees?” he raises his brow as you watch in amusement, jude still a bit tipsy from the drinks he had. (i wanted to show everyone how much i have learned… also, it was the perfect time, don’t you think?)
“gracias por ser la mejor maestra que eh tenido,” jude smirks feeling your tiny slap on the side of his head. “solo lo dices por los recompensas que te daba después,” you squint your eyes while having a straight smile, yet having the urge to laugh. (thank you for being the best teacher i’ve ever had… you’re only saying that because of the rewards i gave you after…)
“in all seriousness, thank you. i wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. i know i was a pain in the ass most of the times, and you pushed me more than anyone else, but in the end you taught me a new language. your native language, and i can see how much that means to you,” jude says. “and now it means so much to me…”
“entonces eso significa que ahora vas a hablar con mi familia el español en la casa?” you deadpanned, jude’s face dropping as he shook his head immediately, frantic about your suggestion. “ah no…” jude chuckled nervously, “i learned but i haven’t perfected it pretty girl. not just yet, i want them to be amazed,” he kisses your hand, over the small “j” charm on your bracelet. (so that means you’ll finally talk to my family in spanish at home?)
“i guess that’s fair…”
“i want our kids to learn spanish though,” jude says seriously, making your heart race at his topic of kids. the whole day he spent appreciating, thanking, carrying kids, including his teammates new baby that had your heart fluttering with nerves but overall joy. “you mean it?” your eyes soften knowing that no matter if he’s drunk off his ass or sober he serious about it. serious about you, his future that involves you.
“cien por ciento. yo quiero una familia grande contigo. y que nos hijos hablen español,” he stutters nervously, yet it brings small tears in your eyes. “aras mi madre la mujer más feliz del mundo,” you joke, making him laugh. (one hundred percent. i want a big family with you. and that our kids speak spanish… you’ll make my mother the happiest woman in the world.)
“y tu? tu también serás la mujer más feliz del mundo?” jude asks resting his head on your shoulder. tired from the blissful game, the traveling, celebrating, yet for you, he felt more alive than anything. he pictured his future exactly like this, you on his lap, watching your babies play on the pitch, their giggles making the both of you grateful. (and you? will you also be the happiest woman in the world?)
“ya lo soy,” you whisper, brushing your hand on his forehead and placing a kiss. (i already am…)
“te amo, mi amor,” jude says with a tiny accent that has you laughing happily. you would never ever take for granted how since learning those two words, he used them anytime and anywhere. (i love you, my love…)
“y yo más.” (and i more.)
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infictionalwonderland · 5 months ago
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Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)
(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)
“She’s here!”
The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily��a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.
You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.
You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.
(You were in love)
“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.
Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.
“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.
As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.
“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”
“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.
Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.
“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”
“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.
All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.
“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.
“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”
“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.
She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.
“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”
“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”
“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”
Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.
“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.
“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.
Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.
“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”
“I would like very much.”
You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.
“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”
“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.
Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.
She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.
“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.
“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.
“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“
“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.
He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.
The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.
Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.
“This—this is hardly—“
“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.
You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.
“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”
“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”
“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”
“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.
You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.
In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.
All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.
The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.
People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.
Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.
Eloise and You blinked.
“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.
The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.
When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.
“Besotted—?”
“Shut up!”
As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.
Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.
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solxamber · 25 days ago
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helloou can I request headcanons for pomefiore and jamil with a fem reader who since she was little had to be like a mother to the children of the orphanage for being a little older, she even has cute videos (tiktok) of them because she wanted to have a memory of how they grew up, where you can see how she cooked, combed and played with them several very soft moments with her children from the orphanage ~ in resume mc with a great maternal instinct since she was little but who also wants to feel like a normal girl her age: ')) that would be all, sorry if it's a bit long oh thank you <3
Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal reader
thanks for the request <3
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Vil Schoenheit
When Vil first learns about your background at the orphanage, his initial reaction is one of admiration. Taking care of so many younger children while still being a child yourself is something he respects deeply. However, he’s also concerned that you’ve had to grow up too quickly. His perfectionist tendencies kick in, and he starts looking for ways to make sure you’re also getting the chance to feel like a girl your age.
The first time Vil watches one of your TikToks, his heart surprisingly softens. There’s a clip of you brushing a little girl’s hair, chatting away as if you were the child’s older sister, and another where you’re cooking with a few of the kids, all of them smiling and laughing. He doesn't express it much, but these videos make Vil feel more connected to you. He sees the warmth you give to those children, and he feels a deep respect for your maternal instinct.
In his own way, Vil tries to get you to focus on yourself. “You’ve done more than enough for others,” he says one day while doing your makeup. “Now it’s time for you to feel like the young woman you are.” Vil starts taking you to events with him, showing you the side of life where you don’t have to worry about anyone else for a while. He wants you to have the freedom to experience things you missed growing up—luxury, fashion, and self-care.
When you express worry that maybe it’s selfish to focus on yourself, Vil is quick to shut that thought down. “You are not selfish for wanting to live, darling. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”
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Rook Hunt
Rook is immediately fascinated when he learns about your background. He sees you as a rare blend of maturity and innocence, a "vision of kindness," he’d say, with an undeniable strength forged from your years at the orphanage. You are a mystery he wants to observe closely, admiring both your motherly side and your longing for youth.
Watching your TikToks, Rook is enamored. The way you cared for those children, the tenderness in your touch as you braided their hair or made them laugh with silly jokes—it’s all so beautifully poetic to him. He memorizes every detail from those videos, often bringing up specific moments during conversation. “Ah, the way you danced with that little boy—such grace!”
Rook, of course, wants to help you experience the joys of youth. He’s always whisking you away on spontaneous adventures—whether it’s dragging you to a hidden meadow to run free, or convincing you to try a daring stunt during school events. Rook believes you should feel like the young girl you are, despite your past responsibilities.
He’s always telling you that while being a maternal figure is admirable, you deserve to enjoy your life too. “Mon trésor, your heart is vast, but you must remember to keep a little space for your own dreams, non?”
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Epel Felmier
Epel is initially surprised when he learns how you practically raised the children at the orphanage. He’s in awe, especially when he watches your TikToks. There’s one where you’re braiding a girl’s hair, another where you’re baking cookies with a group of kids, and Epel can’t help but feel a soft tug in his heart. It’s cute, sure, but also—he respects the heck out of you.
At first, Epel feels like he should protect you. You’ve been responsible for others for so long, and now it’s your turn to have someone look out for you. However, he quickly realizes you’re not someone who needs protecting. If anything, you’re the one who’s been the protector all this time.
He likes teasing you for being “too grown-up,” often encouraging you to relax and do something wild or irresponsible. “C��mon, you don’t gotta be so serious all the time. Let’s go climb that tree!” Epel admires your ability to balance responsibility with moments of fun, but he also wants to be the one to remind you that you can just let loose sometimes.
One day, after watching you work tirelessly to help with a school event, he pulls you aside and insists you join him in some mischief. “You’ve taken care of everyone else for too long. Let someone else worry for once.”
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Jamil Viper
Jamil is someone who understands the weight of responsibility, so when he hears about how you took care of the kids at the orphanage, he relates to you more than he’d like to admit. He’s seen some of your TikToks where you’re cooking for the kids, playing with them, and even putting them to bed, and he feels a sense of kinship with you.
He’s impressed with how effortlessly you balanced caring for others while still excelling at your academics. It reminds him of his own situation—always having to juggle his duties. However, he’s a bit concerned that, like him, you might be neglecting your own needs for the sake of others.
Unlike the others, Jamil doesn’t outright tell you to focus on yourself more, but he subtly makes it happen. He cooks for you when you’re too tired, takes care of small errands without you asking, and always ensures you have time for yourself, even if you don’t realize it. “You’ve been looking after everyone for long enough. Let someone take care of you for once,” he’d say quietly, pushing a warm plate of food toward you.
When you express your desire to feel like a normal girl your age, Jamil is surprisingly supportive. He may not show it openly, but he helps you steal moments of freedom whenever possible—whether it’s sneaking away from responsibilities to enjoy a festival or convincing Kalim to handle a task so you can relax for a change. He understands more than anyone how tiring it can be to carry the weight of responsibility, and he quietly vows to make sure you never feel that way again.
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Masterlist
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lotusarchon · 1 month ago
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you should know better than to ask a lady her age (nezha x reader)
content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), reader is a goddess and has tamayo vibes, nezha is nezha just more feral, mild age gap (both are adults on their first meeting + reader appears in her late twenties and nezha between 24-25 > author has no idea what counts as early/late twenties), all fluff and wholesome stuff, swooning nezha, nezha bullies mk once and wukong multiple times (biggest nezha opp), li jing is his own warning tbh
author's notes: demon slayer x lmk crossover when?
Meeting you was a dream Nezha could never want to forget. It was one of his life's greatest mistakes, and yet for once in his life, it was one he held no regrets for. Not one bit, when the feelings he held for you were so pure and filled with nothing but the utmost passion. To him, you meant the world, and perhaps more.
“Nezha, is it?” Soft hands run through his hair, undoing the messy braids he'd struggled to tie just this morning. “An interesting name for a god like him.”
“Does it matter?” Above him, his father crosses his arm. “Can you heal him, or not?”
The soft voice sighs melancholy. It reminds him of a lullaby, sung to him by a distant voice during a thunderstorm. The hands that thread through his hair still, and the warmth spreads through his body. Gentle fingers press into his scalp, massaging the tender skin.
Then, there is silence.
“That's it?” Li Jing's bitter voice breaks the silence. “That's all?”
“I must remind you, my lord, that this humble servant is not as powerful as her elders.” The hands in his hair gently rub a pattern. “And she has done her best for this lotus prince. All that remains now is for him to rest and allow his body to heal on its own.”
He feels fine, though. Whatever this stranger had done, his body has never felt more alive. It was opposite feeling he had felt before, when Taiyi had restored him.
His father ‘tsks’ angrily. “He'll be fine. He's not some child to rest at every interval.”
He anticipates whoever the stranger is to agree with him.
“Li Jing. You are correct that this is no child, but he is, theoretically, your son. And unless you imply your wife has made you wear a green hat, there is nothing in this world that can change the shared blood you two will have even until death. Have some sympathy, won't you?”
Ah. This was a strange feeling, having someone stand up to that prick of a father he had. Something warm fills his chest at the thought.
It's only when a door slams shut that Nezha dares to open his eyes. A kind woman is looking down at him, with nothing but a smile on her lips.
“Hello, Nezha.” You spoke his name so kindly, filled nothing but gentleness. “I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?”
A goddess. No, something else indeed.
Nezha had zero qualms dedicating his life's purpose to you. It's not like he had much to do anyway, and the Jade Emperor did not seem to mind his attachment to you so long as he did his duties. Li Jing complained often, and for all Nezha knew, most definitely still did, about this vulnerability he showed the goddess that healed him, but the Lotus Prince found that he did not give one fuck. Why should he care if his father had a stick up his ass about his relationship with the goddess that healed him? Lady (Name) held no complaints towards his presence, and thus, any other complaints from outsiders were ignored.
And you truly had nothing against Nezha's presence at your side. Since the day he had found himself lying on your lap, he seemed to hold some form of attachment and loyalty towards you. You put it off as his attempt at being grateful, even though you really didn't mind. Helping people was always one of the joys you held ever so dearly in your immortal life. Nezha really didn't need to express his gratefulness…
Though his company was nothing short of welcoming. The Lotus Prince, for all his grumpy attitude and sulky expressions, was a dear to be around, and you quite liked how his expression would always turn so adorably pink when you compliment his feats. One of your favorite pastimes with him was styling his hair, and tying colorful ribbons in them for the funs of it.
A few gods and immortals were surprised at the sight, but soon enough they learnt it was best not to ask. Less questions meant less injuries, since a certain prince did not like it when people swooned over your kindness.
You were pretty sure that was why so many patients senses a cold aura every visit, come to think of it. But maybe it was just your imagination and not the lotus prince glaring from the window.
Speaking of which, how did he managed to climb so high??
“Sun Wukong, is it?” You thanked Nezha for the tray that he offered you, your favorite blend of tea―a gift from Nezha's older brother, Jinzha―already made and poured into the fancy porcelain cups you favored so much. The tray was set down on the small table between yourself and your guests, and you offered a cup to each. “And your loyal protege, MK?”
The boy wearing the red bandanna nodded quickly, a noticeable blush on his cheeks. You put it off as excitement, since the moment he'd entered the celestial realm, he'd been gushing about the beauty of the place, top to bottom and back again. His mentor wasn't half as excited, grabbing him by the collar to stop him from running off to who knows where while he sipped on a cup. 
“I'm surprised you haven't heard of me,” Sun Wukong remarked, raising a brow at you. “You a new god or something?” When you nodded in confirmation, he blinked. “Ah, that explains it. Pretty sure I would've recognized a pretty face like yours.”
Next to you, Nezha's aura radiated annoyance. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you swore you could feel the god and monkey exchanging heated glares.
Weird.
“You flatter this servant too much,” you answered humbly and smiled. “But it is true that this is the first time I've even heard of you, Sun Wukong.”
“Ah? How old even are you?” MK questioned curiously.
“25 when she first achieved enlightenment. 457 years in mortal terms.” This time, Nezha was the one who spoke. You flashed him a grateful smile―because sadly, you truly kept no track of these things, not when it felt so pointless―but Wukong exchanged a weird look with his protege, especially when Nezha gave him a stink eye. “And you should know better than to ask a lady her age. It's disrespectful.”
“Don't be mean, he meant no harm―” You chided Nezha, gently patting his face. He leaned into your touch with a pleasant smile, and you shook your head at the sweet gesture. “And yes, I've lived long, but not as long as the Prince or Sun Wukong has. I'm afraid there are still many things I am duly unaware of.”
Sun Wukong snickered. “Some more than others, aye, Nezha?”
In response, a golden brick was thrown at the monkey's face. It hit him square on the face, and you gasped as Sun Wukong fell over, holding his face painfully. 
“Nezha!” You scolded the lotus prince and gather your robes to stand and examine the fallen Sage. Aside from the red spot on his forehead, he seemed fine, but still whined about the pain he was in. You glanced at Nezha's pouting expression. “That was not very polite! Don't do that again, understood?”
Nezha relented. “Yes, Lady (Name).” Even when angry she's still as beautiful as the morning sun.
Sun Wukong peeked an eye open. He caught the Lotus Prince's gaze from his position on your lap, and while you focused on soothing his pain, he winked.
Let's just say all hell broke loose after that, and Nezha and Sun Wukong owed you a new palace.
“Nyahaha.”
“Fuck you you stupid fucking cock slobbing whore!”
“Nezha!”
“Sorry, Lady (Name).”
“:3”
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@lotusarchon , 23.09.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!
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yanderemommabean · 10 months ago
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Yandere red room idea
The Red rooms. It’s not something He really thought he’d find himself using but here he is, walking up the corridor with a key card in his pocket. It’s definitely a secret society type of deal, code words, secret hand gestures, one use keys, all the security one could imagine. The first time he even heard of such a place like this, he assumed it was dark internet fetish mumbo jumbo. 
But after he found you, well, the right people found him and led him to the right place. Not a room of pain, but one of pleasure, to show his darling all of his intense love and emotion and then some. 
He hasn’t even booked a room yet, he’s here as a sort of consultation visit. To see if he really has the balls to do this and show that yes, he adores you, and that his love outweighs anyone else’s. 
Sliding the card into the door brought him into an empty room besides a desk, a few chairs, and two large filing cabinets. He takes a look around, quickly surveying the area, before stepping inside fully and sitting in the chair facing the large office chair in front of him. Before he can let his shoulders relax, a man follows in behind him, followed by a woman as well, both dressed professionally and seeming very…happy. 
“Ah! It’s good to see you, Mr-” 
“Lee, you can just call me Lee. And you are?” He asks, gesturing to the woman standing beside the man in the suit as he begins to open a manilla envelope, spreading the papers out on the table. 
“Victoria. We can leave it at that. I can tell that you know secrecy and customer privacy are our top priority with this business” She says with a knowing smile, sliding the papers over to face them towards the doctor.
“Now, Lee, What we have here is a very basic outline of what we can do for you and that love bug you’ve found yourself. We celebrate rather than punish our loved ones here, and want them to understand that to their core! We find that the red room experience helps!” The man exclaims with excitement, but has yet to really introduce himself. 
Lee was told to expect that however. The leader behind this all was kind enough to reach out but he wasn’t to expect anything too personal. “All business” was his very aura, and Lee could respect that. He nods along as Victoria took the reigns, explaining some of their core beliefs before getting to what Lee really wanted to know. 
“We can make the room however you please, lease it for up to four days at a time with personnel who checks in every four hours with their own special keys, for the darlings sake. As much as we wish to fully trust our customers, we will not take the risk of them dying or being seriously injured in any way. As stated, this is a way to show love and we give you the tools to do so! “ Victoria then spreads apart the papers, pointing here and there as she explains a bit more, intriguing Lee with every bit. “We have romantic layouts like at a hotel, we have BDSM specialist rooms, we have very highly rated toys and devices that we inspect and clean before each room is ready, and we have a live stream option if you’re the type who thinks everyone should see the pleasure you’re darling is receiving! I personally recommend the tribbing machines with the black rose theme if you prefer the dom and sub type of vibe, but we can personalize however you like!” 
Huh. Wow. They’re very thorough aren’t they? 
The business man nods, sitting back in his seat as he adjusts his tie. “I started many companies in my life, all based on bringing smiles and joy, and it’s my personal belief that there needs to be a company looking out for your lover! Love, adventurous or more mellow, is a beautiful thing that our darlings need to be showered in as much as possible. If you’d like, this can also be set up in a way to just calmly express your love to your darling, but I will clarify that it isn’t guaranteed to go well…I advise getting our crews to pick them up and deliver them for you, with every person being given a  background check of course! Safety and security is what comes first for your darling” 
Lee was a bit flabbergasted to say the least. They talk so professionally, have such a strange ethic to them, and they act as if he’s about to buy a company or large house rather than finally get ahold of the love of his life. It’s…Odd but charming. He can’t say he’s turned away from this, in fact he has a few ideas for his own red room. 
“Are they CPR trained and do they have basic first aid knowledge?” Lee asks as he looks over some more of the photos, liking the array of toys they had up for use to add to the room, each one costing extra of course but for what he had planned…it wouldn’t be too bad. 
Victoria smirks, laughing lightly in amusement “I can see we’ve caught even more of your attention. We can make sure these personnel are trained for the pick up, but our permanent staff are already trained in first aid help and some, even small surgical emergencies. You know, always needing to be prepared and all”. 
They talk  a few more things out, Lee deciding that if these people were serious, then he could trust them. If they crossed him in any way, he’d easily rid at least a handful of them. He didn’t get that gut feeling he usually does when people are lying to him however. This felt thorough and legit and well…Professional. 
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you Mr Lee. We’ll be getting in touch with you shortly! You wont regret setting this up-” the business man says with a firm handshake, smiling in an almost uncanny way. “And remember, when you’re in a bind, one of our smiles will ease your mind"
-Mommabean (This was so silly but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!)
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mtchee · 4 months ago
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My Chosen Beloved - [Zhongli] GN
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blurb:
In ancient Teyvat, you worship your Lord of Geo as much as the next villager. When you hear that you're cursed by something unknown, your fears are only confirmed when you're given to your Archon as a sacrifice to save your village. Only, it turns out you're not quite the sacrifice you thought you were. OH, turns out, you're to be wedded to your Archon. Except, since arriving at his hidden chambers, you've seen neither hide nor hair of him. Only his pet dragon, Morax, lazes about in the mountainscape to accompany you. Welp, new best friend! Even if it is a sassy lizard. What... What do you mean, he is the sassy lizard...
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cw: not edited, second-person-pov, kinda chaotic [name], sugestive at the end, arranged (??) marriage trope except he arranged it, Zhongli is a little shit, i think he's slightly OOC im SO sorry, dragonli, young Morax?? but not quite, ancient teyvat au (kind of), swearing, might do a part 2
| masterlist | genshin impact collection |
[4.0k]
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"Cursed!?" You cry out in horror, "I'm cursed!?"
"Not cursed, dear one," The sweet old lady hums, swishing around your cup of left over tea leaves, "just marked."
"Oh, oh good," You feign relief, "so I'm a target."
"Oh hush you," The tea reader swats you over the head, "you fret too much. Besides, there's more I've yet to see..."
You grumble to yourself under your breath, rubbing your sore spot with a pout before sitting and waiting for the rest of her verdict. The woman hums lowly, a content smile on her delicate old features as she keeps her eyes trained on the semi-warm yunomi cup in her hands.
"Ooh, would you look at that," She hums happily, "a crescent star--how wonderful. You will have an unusually large fortune happen upon you..." she swishes the cup once more, "and... ah! And these are... indeed! Health and happiness shall befall you! Though beware, a great sacrifice must you omit in your coming days for this to be achieved."
You sigh to yourself quietly, smiling softly with a shake of your head, "Thank you, grandma."
You place a small pouch of coins atop her tattered, velvet cloth table as you move to stand.
"Ah, ah, ah!" She tuts, eyes wide as she stares at your tea leaves, "my child... I see that someone has their eye on you; beware of whom it is that you trust, deary. Not all things are as they seem..."
You feel a shiver crawl up your spine, and you squeak; you feel your soul levitate.
You gain a cold sweat, "T-Thanks, granny..."
"It's no problem, child!" The old lady beams, positively ignorant of your terror, "come back anytime. It's always such a joy to read for you..."
"Aha, yes. I-I'm sure..." You wince, smile strained, "um... goodnight, granny."
"Goodnight, dear one!"
You're quick to leave the quaint tea shop, placid smile immediately dropping into one of panic. Ever since you'd gone up that stupid magical mountain or whatever, you'd felt these odd shivers down your spine, like someone was watching you.
Constantly.
Or, nearly constantly. It usually stopped when you got to your house--at least this stalker had some decency. 
It certainly didn't help that there was an apparent raid being planned on your village, an attack that you'd all been warned about by an anonymous.
It was a curse of sorts, unleashed by an old enemy of your land's beloved Archon, Rex Lapis. The main city of Liyue is only small at this time, and the adepti, each to their own, have additionally been busy with protecting the various other scattered villages around the land.
You were given fourteen days to figure out a solution. 
Now, there's only three left. 
You shudder, once again feeling a pair of eyes glaring into you from archons knows where, and you let out an angsty huff, crossing your arms over yourself. 
"Great," You crinkle your nose, "now I'm even more paranoid." 
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"A WHAT!?" 
Ah, what a wonderful start to the morning, with two days left before the presumed attack. 
The whole village gathers with murmurs of concern, pity, and fear.
In seeing no other way to prevent the attack, the town elder had announced a last resort solution, as provided with help from the adepti.
A sacrifice is to be made and sent to the stone mountains where it is told that their Great Lord and his dragon reside. A sacrifice must be made to their Archon in exchange for protection from the oncoming curse.
And with consultation from Adeptis Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver, you were chosen to be the offered one. 
"You want me to be a WHAT!?" Your eyes practically bulge from your head, and a panic rushes through you, thoughts spiralling as your heart tightens painfully in your chest.
Your outburst garnered further chatter from the rest of the town, some shouting their concern for you, others in protest of the decision made--but ultimately, it wasn't up to them.
The adepti themselves had chosen. 
Your ears rang with a high pitch, gaze hazy as you grew dizzy, struggling to breathe.
You couldn't hear what anyone else was saying--and quite frankly, you didn't want to, nor did you care.
A further immense feeling of fright pierced through you, causing your knees to buckle. It was those eyes again. 
'Dear archons,' You thought to yourself fearfully, 'am I going to die?'
The next forty-eight hours went by too fast, consisting of preparation for your departure, where a group of villagers would later escort you to the mountains and present you at its base before returning home.
And where you would be left alone, alongside barrels of fruit and meat offerings, and baskets of their finest silk and gold.
Then, it would be up to their Great Lord to make the decision. 
And so there you had been, fearful and adorned in opaque silks and fine threads, arms and legs decorated with pretty golden jewellery for an extravagent yet elegant appeal.
Your heart stuttered painfully in your chest, breath uncomfortably stuck in your throat as paranoia and terror consume you simultaneously. The feeling of eyes being burnt into your form had never left, and they had never felt so intense until then.
Staring at the mountain base with your back to the open field behind you, you felt your very soul ice over as a dark shadow swallowed you. You hadn't dared to look back, eyes wide with your skin pricked, breath stagnant as your base most instincts went wild; run.
But you felt you were dead before it had even approached.
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You don't remember anything from that point on, only recalling a behemoth silhouette drowning yours before everything went silent and dark.
You had fainted.
But freedom! You cry in your mind, finding yourself awake inside a palace worthy bedchamber. You weren't eaten! Yay! CELEBRATE FOOL.
You notice a soft quilt upon you, its fabric smooth to the touch. Your hands tremble ever so slightly, nerves recovering from being shot. You swallow thickly, unsure of what to expect as you observe your surroundings.
The room is heavenly. Much grander than even the nobles in the nearest city, the room is vast and elegant, with artworks and calligraphy engraved into the stone walls. Cor lapis illuminates it all, along with the plentiful golden intricacies.
An elaborate archway to your left is separated from your room by a semi-sheer curtain, and you can hear the ever so soothing tinkling of water. A bathroom.
Placed along that same wall is a beautiful vanity and smaller archway separated similarly to the other. You can spy a more than generous number of hanging fabrics and neat, polished crates--a wardrobe.
The opposite side of the room displays practically half a library. Gorgeous bookshelves line the walls with ornate pillars and decorative foliage, a grand desk situated nearby with an equally as exquisite chair. The floor is covered by a soft carpet, accompanied by various cosy and inhumanely large pillows.
Nevermind, you must have been eaten, because this looks like heaven.
Mouth agape in bewilderment and disbelief, you slowly slip out from beneath the covers, tip toeing along the cool flooring into the middle of the room.
Your eyes graze over everything, and you're tempted to throw yourself indulgently into the giant pile of pillows just begging to be laid on.
Yet you restrain yourself because where the hell are you.
The large door across from you looks promising.
It takes a good hard push from you before it opens, though once it does the doors part for you effortlessly on their own. You pause, peeking out into the hallway skeptically before actually stepping out.
The door shuts quietly by itself one you're out of its way.
Interesting.
The corridor itself is daunting, both in size and extravagence. One side leads to an archway concealed by a thick red curtain, whilst the other reveals an opening into what appears to be a sun room.
Well, that looks promising.
Like everything else, the area is expansive and elegant. Sunlight bathes everything in a soft, golden glow, and water trickles pleasingly from ornate divets in the high stone walls, following a painstakingly carved path down into a rivet in the ground that outlines the floor plan.
Looking up into the high ceiling, your mouth drops in awe at the crystal clear glass encasing. In an octagonal, dome shape, the largest panes showcase stained glass designs, threading rainbow highlights here and there.
Thriving vines decorate the roofs edge, neatly climbing down the walls and curling around the spaced pillars that hold it all together. The plantation has been carefully placed as to not obstuct or corrode the ornate architecture.
In the centre of the room is a mound of silks and pillows with gold trims and intricacies, a large serpentine figure curled atop the delicate fabrics gracefully as it slumbers.
What.
Pause.
A dragon.
A fucking dragon.
Morax, Rex Lapis' dragon.
And you know it's Rex Lapis' dragon because who fucking else would have a dragon.
Your mouth drops in absolute horror at what you've stumbled upon, and you start to backtrack in silent terror when the slumbering creature begins to shuffle.
You internally curse yourself as the thing emits a sleepy grumble that vibrates the floor before locking eyes with you.
It blinks drearily, lazily yawning and smacking its maws before learning towards you with lidded amber eyes and a grounding purr.
You've been frozen in utter fear for the entirety of its slow awakening, and it huffs warm air into your wide eyed face once its levelled with you.
You let out a frightened squeak, blinking rapidly to recover from the assault while the serpentine creature rumbles contently. It looks... entirely unbothered by your presence.
You can't quite tell what it's thinking, its eyes watching you ever so intently, yet with a peculiar fondness that has you puzzled.
"He.. Hello, dragon," Your voice cracks, and you take a hasty bow to make up for it, "uh! Morax. Um, am I... aren't I suppose to be, uh, eaten..?"
Morax blinks at you cluelessly.
"As, uh, in sacrifice?"
The dragon huffs at you again, though this time much more sharply, as though offended. An odd keen gets stuck in its throat as it tilts its head before shaking out its mane.
Then, Morax leans towards you again with a grumbling coo, as though attempting to soothe you before nudging its large muzzle at your chest.
You stumble back from the unexpected contact, but the being only prods at you again until you gently guide its nose away with both hands. It retreats back into the rest of its curled form, watching you expectantly.
You reach a hand to where Morax had been poking, touching the thick cor lapis pendant situated on your chest in the shape of the geo symbol, secured by a deceivingly delicate looking gold chain.
"Oh this?" You look down at it from your awkward angle, "is something wrong with it?"
Morax lets out a curt grumble, not in warning or any form of vexation, but as a sort of prompt. Not quite.
You furrow your brows, "Then... does it mean something?"
Its grumbles again. Closer.
Your mind blanks, and you stare back at the beast that just blinks at you slowly. It makes no more sounds to edge you forwards, nor anymore mortion to aid your thinking. Instead, it watches you patiently, expectantly. Fondly.
"...You wanna... you wanna tell me?"
Your features flatten when the dragon emits an exaggerated yawn, crossing its massive paws and laying its head down upon them.
"Oh, you've got an attitude, you know," You frown at the mythical thing, and it closes its eyes teasingly in cheek.
You look at your pendant again. It had been provided by the Adeptis, and passed onto the village chief for when the chosen had been annouced. Then it was later given to you at the end of all your preparations, and you've been wearing it since.
Funnily enough, your preparations were similar to those of your wedding traditions--the older women fussing over your appearance while the men gathered gold and jewels to toss and offer up in symbolizing a rich, fruitiful future for the beweddeds.
The pendant is a similar heirloom typically passed from the more forthright intended to their beloved, as a way to show both their devotion, and their will to provide and protect.
The heirloom is usually something that represents the family from which it is given, as the receiver takes on their last name.
But your pendant is the geo symbol, your Archon's insignia.
Holy freaking shit you're wearing your Archon's insignia and it's not a vision.
Your stomach drops.
"O-Oh my god!" The pendant drops back into place on your chest, and you stare wide eyed at the serpent that daringly matches your panicked gaze, "I-I'm our Lord's intended!?"
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"You're my one true friend Morax. But don't tell anyone I said that, that's kinda sad."
You distractedly scrub the dragon's scales by his neck, having moved on from his claws. You're dressed in thin bathing silks that cling to your figure from the water, parts of the fabric sheer upon your skin. You're not bothered though, it's only you and the dragon in this huge manor.
For the week or so that you've spent here, you've seen neither hide nor hair of your dear Archon. One part of you is curious as to why, seeing as this is his abode, though the other shudders at the prospect of running into him in person. You're still not mentally prepared for that.
You don't know how to talk to a god! Let alone how to your god--and that's not even mentioning the fact that you're technically supposed to be married to him.
Yeah. You've figured it out now.
No, you had not been sentenced to your death. No pain or any form of violence has been inflicted since your arrival, unless you want to count the dragon tormenting you with the fluff of its tail.
Stupid dragon.
Speaking of the damned creature, you've taken solace in its company. Although non-human, the dragon is a sentient being of its own, and though large and very much built for battle, Morax has been nothing but patient and gentle.
Ever so aware of your smaller being, the dragon has been careful with its every motion, bending its languid body elegently and fluidly to accomidate you. Even in a playful mood, Morax takes great care not to jostle you or startle you so.
You've claimed the overgrown reptile as your best friend in claws!
Morax had preened at the proclamation.
"Has our Lord been taking care of you? I haven't seen him once since I've been here. Do you think I've scared him off?" You snicker, wringing out the soaked cloth in the floral water you're seeping in, "ah, yes. As I am everything he should fear in a spouse. A merciless tongue and a non-existent sleep schedule."
In the furthest depths of this absolutely insanely huge manor, palace or whatever, is an opening in what you presume to be the back of the mountain.
Walls opening into a magnificent waterscape with a lazy lake and picturesque waterfalls, vines and flowers and brush decorating the scene with giant trees overshading parts of the water.
Morax snorts at your accusations, nostrils puffing non-aggravated smoke.
You move on to delicately rinsing the dragon's mane in parts, fingers sifting through the long, smooth fur to untangle any knots.
"Is he kind?"
From its once sleep tempted state, the beast perks up, opening its eyes to gaze at you. Sensing Morax's confusion, you give a tender smile while you brush a hand through its mane and over its scales.
"My betrothed, our Lord," The dragon croons softly, leaning its massive head down to rest its chin on your lap as you chuckle bashfully, "only you and the adepti know what he's really like. When he's not attending his duties, I mean."
You swallow thickly, worry glazing your eyes before being swiftly masked by a ginger smile as Moraz nudges you.
"I just... to be wedded to our Lord is just a fantasy. Who could I ever amass to in comparison to our Archon? I... don't think he will be cruel. But," Your eyes flutter to the side unsurely, "I don't want to live a lie."
Your heart pangs in your chest, and you slow in your movements which begin to cease. The water ripples around you at each notion, the air still and serene. Yet, despite the peace, you feel burdened.
No, not burdened.
Your brows crease in thought.
Perhaps dejected.
Although you have yet to meet, you've been provided with an abundance of wealth. It's evident your Lord is the spoiling type.
Your room is just one example, full of things you love and could lose yourself in for hours, alongside a wardrobe full of clothes you could only ever have previously dreamed of.
And you have the entire mountain to explore to entertain yourself--and it's not as though you were trapped.
You've gone flying with Morax twice now, and further explored the wilderness surrounding with the dragon's protective supervision. If you so truly wished, you could leave these hidden chambers to go elsewhere. To be honest though, you don't trust yourself to be able to find your way back.
The food is plentiful. Visiting the kitchens each morning and night, you find a feast is laden. And during the mid-day when you're hungry, or the late hours when you're peckish, the pantries are stocked in abundance.
A warm breeze caresses your shoulders, and the sound of the water trinkling melodically echoes a tranquil tune.
Morax purrs at you, and your smile saddens as you speak a dismal truth, "I will forever worship our Lord, not just for what he has provided me, but for him in all his existence. Though I admit, my heart will carry the dual burden of heartache."
The dragon blinks at you slowly, before reeling back in all its grace with a low croon. Its eyes are lidded, looking down at you in fondness and something else you can't quite place.
You puff a breathy laugh, reaching up a hand to cup the scales on its cheek. Despite the comically drastic size difference, the mystic being leans into your touch with a rumble.
"Thank you, Morax," You murmur, awed, "but I could ask nothing more from our dearest Archon who has given so much already. I only pray that someday he will find the one with whom he can truly return their affections."
A disgruntled huff escapes from the amber dragon's maw, and it shakes its head before leaning down to carefully press its horned head against yours.
A smile traces your lips, sincere gratitude oozing from your being as your eyes slip shut, nuzzling back against the smooth and damp scales of your mythical friend.
Another kind brush of air kisses your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. From behind your eyelids, a bright flash of light is muted, though you pass it off as naught.
Suddenly though, the scales you had cupped fit much better in your palm, a sensation much softer gracing your fingertips. Your brows furrow slightly as you feel the weight of the dragon's physical presence decrease. The water around you ripples greatly, though the atmosphere itself remains undisturbed.
The winds swoop gracefully as always, musical water cascades still singing their dream inducing tinkles while the scent of the surrounding natural flora soothes you.
You hear a gentle rumble, though much softer than the dragon before you. Your eyes gradually open, slinking up to lock onto the ethereal man leant into your loving caress.
Your gaze drifts to his nose, and then his lips, observing his attire that consists of layers of intricate brown and golden silks that float atop the water's surface.
And then you gasp, meeting eternally wise amber orbs that stare into yours knowingly.
Your muscles tense and your stomach drops, and you stumble back, almost tripping in the water.
At your sudden lurch in movement, the devastatingly handsome man fixes his arms around you, a gavelly chuckle sending a flush of heat to the tips of your ears as he pulls you flush against him.
"Y-You! I--" Embarrassment in all its forms overwhelms you while your beloved Lord himself stares down at you with lidded eyes, exuding elegance and unwavering strength just as he stands.
You don't dare look him in the eye, gaze latched shamefully onto the intricate details laced on the garment covering his chest. Your shame only increases once you notice the opening in the fabric that reveals part of his chest.
"M-My Lord..!"
Humiliation causes tears to prick at your eyes painfully.
But the dragon--his dragon, he is the dragon!
Heavens above, how utterly foolish could you be!?
Weeks you have spent confiding and bumbling about with that damned beast had you spilling the deepest depths of your heart and innermost being.
You would have never behaved in such a trecherous manner had you known it was your Lord! How disgusted he must be with you. How offended he must feel for the ignorant things you have speeled!
You clench your eyes shut, almost trembling in his grasp.
"My.. My most sincerest apologies, Lord Rex Lapis. I-I must avow that for each word I have spoken I never did intend-"
"Whatever do you mean, my love?" His voice is warm and low, a pleasant gravel that slinks into your ears like honey.
Rex Lapis--Morax, your very Archon who is one in the same, pulls himself back to admire you with fond eyes. Though his gaze is ever intense, the emotion he expresses is more than palpable.
His touch is tender, careful but full of longing, "Perish such nonsense from your mind. I, apologise, dear one," He leans down hopefully to meet your gaze, "for startling you so. And for withholding my true self for so long."
You flutter your eyes open, swallowing shakily when he smiles at you oh so adoringly.
"To be honest, I was... nervous. Unsure as to how you would perceive me."
"You? Nervous?" You incredulous tone has him breathe out a laugh.
"Indeed, dearest," You flush at the endearment, able to process it past your panic this time, "it is not everyday you are intended to a God. Now though, I see I should have been the one to welcome you first and foremost."
In contrast to his gentle touches and patient tone, a familiar cheeky twinkle sparkles in his eyes, "To think you thought you were a meat offering."
You blink up at him, horridly aghast at the mention of your initial misgrievances.
Forgetting your prior reservations about him as your Lord, no longer heeding your behaviour to such, you recognise that mischevious glint just as on the first day you had arrived.
A sense of relief floods your being, and you gradually untense in his tender grasp.
Though you're still unwilling to let him off unscathed.
"Who's the one who had me snatched up on such short notice?"
A sense of sheepishness has him ducking his head in self awareness, nodding acceptingly and in apology. A pink tint lines his fair cheeks at that.
But then he glances down at your drenched attire, and his flush deepens as a desire much too long forgone has him turning up his cheek a little more than he normally would.
"Well," He clears his throat distractedly, "who wouldn't at such a delightful temptation, hm?"
And then it's your turn to feel flushed.
Although he had left you lonesome in you first few weeks of stay, he more than made up for it in the coming nights.
And in response to your apprehensions and concern in being wedded to a God, he addressed them directly by providing you with an adoring reverence than even celestia would envy.
And he continued to do so, for the many years that would come.
For he had chosen you; his one and true beloved.
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s1llyalabaster · 4 months ago
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When mediocrity meets the supremacy - veritas ratio
Where the Doctor narrows his eyes at the trailblazer for stealing his partner's attention.. ~700 words, SFW (not necessarily connected, but read part 1!
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AU where reader followed the trailblaze before quitting to pursue further studies in various fields of science with Dr. Ratio himself in the Intelligensia Guild. (Might not be entirely lore accurate, trailblazer doesnt go to Belobog)
Your mind brings you back to the soft swishes of water during your bath with you beloved. it had been almost 5 system hours since the last few drops of bathwater went down the drain, small petals being the only thing that signified your intimate rendezvous with the Doctor himself.
You shake your head, forcing yourself to pull away from the sweet, dream-esque scene. You find yourself struggling to focus on the task at hand, the smug face of Vertitas Ratio plastering itself all over the wals of your mind like the "WANTED" posters all over belobog's brick walls you saw during the journey to Jarilo VI with your old friends.
Speaking of the trailblazers, you had planned a small gathering with the Astral Express members in the evening, since they were visiting. You had yearned to see the faces of Marth 7th, Dan Heng, Himeko, Welt, even Pom Pom. You've heard from March that there had been a new member of the Astral Express, going by Caelus. Judging from March's bombarding texts of photos and videos, he seemed to have a quite....eccentric personality, but bore a kind expression nonetheless.
You'd adequately dressed yourself up after returning to you and Dr. Ratio's humble home, opting to switch to a fancier outfit. It was a speical occasion, after all. You loosely linked your arm around Veritas' very reluctant arm, walknig towards the round table where the members were sat.
"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Himeko addressed your name, and drifted her eyes to the grey-haired trailblazer to the opposite of you. Dr. Ratio narrowed his eyes, you slightly nudged him to get rid of that old habit, hard enough to get a small grunt out of him.
"Say, Trailblazer. How has the Astral Express been treating you?" You asked, watching as the gears slowly spun into action in his head, almost as if someone was controlling him through a game screen.(teehee)
"Well..I've been through lots of unforgettable journeys with the Astral Express, and they've shown me much care in a...familial way."
You nod your head, satisfied at the answer before you. You reminisce about your days spent on the Express. Whether it be happy or hurtful, significant but sad. A clink of the wine glass drew everyone at the old-fashioned western-styled restaurant's attention.
"Come on! Won't a handsome man just come up and sing along to this song with me?!"
The woman dragged Caelus' arm towards the center stage, handing him a hat. He gracefully donned it on his head as you watched in admiration. Since Caelus was younger than you, you had an almost...motherly love to him. But Veritas didn't seem to take it that way.
You clapped along to the rhythm of a song sang by the singing duo - composed of a random woman, and the newest member of the Astral Express. The soda bottles hopped in joy as the trailblazer returns to his seat. Ah, a livehouse, I see.
Throught the scene, Ratio's eyes trailed alongside your movements; every captivating smile, every clap sent to the trailblazer, every whoop or cheer sent to him, every---
Graphs and charts were buzzing about in his mind. His analytical brain was working at full speed. "What made him to be so charming when it was me that needed to be appealing?!" No amount of data or statistics could account for how much love he had for you in his heart, yet he couldn''t show it, and you were about to be taken away by--
"Veritas? Are you alright?" He had awoken to your soft touches on his face. He'd abruptly sat up on the bed that he once laid on. Pause. An epiphany occured in his mind, "You...the party...!" He tried to compose himself, yet his drunk-dazed (teehee) mind wouldn't cooperate. "The party went greatly, dear! Half the time, you were zoned out, just staring at some random poster about Robin and Sunday!"
Veritas' eyes widened. "I didn't say anything....preposterous, did I?"
"Well...only something about wanting me to be your super private secretary, and only yours-" "Ridiculous! Utterly absurd!"
Putting on his alabaster head, facing away from you. Looks like the Doctor won't be able to admit to his jealousy...
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luciferlightbringer · 8 months ago
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Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 9
I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘
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Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Updated through Chapter 12
Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting
You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.
You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?
You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.
"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.
The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.
The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.
"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.
Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.
"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.
"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.
"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."
You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.
The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."
"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.
"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"
You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.
You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."
The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.
"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.
The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.
You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.
At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?
Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'
"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.
You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.
"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.
"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.
The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.
Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."
You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.
Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."
"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."
"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.
"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.
You picked up your cup and shook it.
"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.
You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."
She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"
You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."
She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."
"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.
______________________________________________________________
The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.
You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?
You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.
"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"
"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.
"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.
"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.
"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.
Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"
"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"
Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"
You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."
Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.
"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.
You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."
"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"
You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.
At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."
You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"
She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"
You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."
She nodded, "Yes you did."
You stared at her, "When???"
She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"
You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.
You loved him, you loved Lucifer.
Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."
Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"
You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.
Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.
After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"
"He does," Brooklyn said.
"How do you know?" you sniffle.
She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"
You blinked.
"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.
"And you're sure?" you ask.
Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."
You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.
You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.
"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.
She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."
You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.
The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.
On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.
Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.
_____________________________________________________________
A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.
You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"
You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."
"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.
"No Lance?"
Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.
You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.
One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."
You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.
Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.
______________________________________________________________
Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.
"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.
Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"
"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.
"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.
"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.
"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.
Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."
Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"
"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.
Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."
"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."
Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.
"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.
"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.
______________________________________________________________
You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc
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goodgirl4daddy4evr · 7 months ago
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Hypnotized lesbian sucks Priest off before her wedding
Tw: religious abuse. Are you gay? Have you been told you're going to hell for being gay? Does that trigger you?
I was given this prompt by @kingofobsidian 🥵
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I was getting ready for my big day. I wasn't sure it would ever come. Or include me in a dress, marrying another woman in a dress, in her family's church. Her parents took her to a very open and affirming church that my soon to be wife felt safe coming out in when she was a teenager and now felt joy to return to so we could celebrate our love. I hadn't been to church in a while but we'd been doing counseling with the priest in preparation for marriage. He was so nice, I really felt like I could be open with him about my fears and insecurities. It helped us talk about them as a couple. We each would have our own recordings to listen to about marriage and the commitment we were making. I would always zone out listening though so I'm not sure how helpful they really were. My finance felt the same.
I was in the recreational area bathroom when I asked my maid of honor and friends to give me some time alone to reflect. My strapless dress was not staying up over my titties that well, we had to use some tape and I was fiddling with it when I noticed it in the mirror again. I'm startled out my headspace of frustration at my chest's incompatibility with strapless tops when there's a knock at the bathroom door. "Hello, Becki? It's Father Tom. I just wanted to check in on you. May I come in?"
I look at myself in the mirror, my bleached blonde hair half up, and share a confused look with myself before turning towards the door. Father Tom looked like he always did, all in black with his white collar poking out. Now that I think about, I don't remember if he has to change too. He smiles and chuckles, looking at my chest.
"Oh Becki, your dress is a little lopsided."
"Ugh, is it really that noticeable?" I turn back to the mirror and inspect the dress while I notice my worried look. Father Tom comes up behind me and I don't notice he's reaching out to touch me until he is. I look up in the mirror to see him tower above me and his hands on my shoulders. His eyes are starting at my titties in the mirror.
As if his stares could cause it, the tape finally unstuck on one side and most of my left titty popped out.
"Oh my God!" I cover my nipple. I look at him. I turn around. "Oh my- my- ah I'm sorry Father! I'm sorry I just- I'm just sorry!"
His hands came to lay on my back now and he's smiling again. "Oh Becki, sweet girl, you have nothing to apologize for." He looks into my eyes very intensely while mine are searching his face for an answer as to why.
"Remember, Becki? Remember?"
And that's when I drop my hand. I do remember. I look into Father Tom's eyes. They look so deep.
"Don't you remember, Becki? From your recordings? You know what marriage between two women is about don't you? Don't you remember, Becki?"
"It's about serving cocks together. It's when lesbians become a package deal for superior men. Women can't satisfy each other's needs. Only cock can."
"Ohh yes, you do remember, Becki."
That's when I feel myself pushed to the floor on my knees looking up at the first man I would ever service. In my wedding dress. Waiting for him to marry me to another woman.
He's unbuckling his belt as he speaks. "Now Becki, this will be just your first taste of cock. You'll be coming back every week for your sacrament, Becki, I want you to remember." His thumb rubs on my lower lip. "Now Becki, remember those recordings? I want you to think back to what they said, Becki."
"Start slow first. Lick all up and down. The wetter the better. Suck on the head. Suck on the balls. Use your hands. Open your throat."
He pets my hair before taking out his cock. I can't believe it. It's so much bigger than I thought they could be! It's like big tits! Big cocks only exist in porn! But I have big tits. Oh my god, do regular men have big cocks?
"Becki, remember..."
Father Tom moves his cock closer to my face I can't stop staring at it, it's so beautiful and I want it in my mouth so bad. I wanna suck and slobber all over it and suck his cum out so he put it all over my tits. I bounce and grind as I move forward and grab the base of his cock to lick all over his cock and get him nice and wet for my mouth.
"Oh! Becki I'm so glad your training took. I'll have to talk to your new wife after I marry you. Make sure her training took as well. You're both so beautiful. Made for taking cock. To marry you both would be sin if I did not claim you for my own. You thoughtless women denying your purposes. You should be grateful that I've saved your souls. I'm going to bless you with my holy seed and you'll need to receive this sacrament daily."
I look up with my big eyes, "Thank you, Father." and I take him in my mouth. I suck on the tip of his cock with my hand rubbing the base. I swirl my tongue around his head, tracing the part right where the head meets the shaft. When he puts his hand on the back of my head I suck him deeper. And deeper. And then my hand doesn't fit. I bob my head sucking from as close to the base as I can get to the bottom on the head and up and down and up and down. And hold. And up and down and up and down and up down. And hold.
It's when I start to juggle his balls that he grabs my head with two hands and begins to thrust in earnest. I finally understand what facefucking is. He's just using my mouth. Using my mouth to cum. He thrusts and thrusts and slows down and rolls his hips and thrusts and thrusts. Both my titties have fallen out of my dress and drool is dripping onto them from my mouth. My eyes are starting to water and it's starting to hurt. I'm making all these noises choking on his cock, looking up at him. He's staring at me.
"Look at me, Becki, look at me. Look at the man that has saved you. You will be blessed! Ohhh I'm putting it on your tits! I'm putting it on your tits!"
He lets go and I cough and gasp and catch my breath and look at him as he rubs his cock and lines up his cock head in the middle of my cleavage.
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, take your daily blessing, and may it cleanse you."
He unloaded his milky gooey white cream all over my flushed red titties. Spurt after spurt came out, more than I thought was supposed to happen. After he finished milking his cock I held up my titties to show off to him and he put his cock between my titties and rubbed his cum around.
"Ohh Becki, my child, I'm so glad I saved your soul for the Kingdom of Heaven."
He takes a step back and pulls out his phone from his pocket. I'm a little dazed when I hear the camera sound.
He chuckles "Now we can clean you up for your bride. Let's fix that dress."
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warping-realities · 9 months ago
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Bed and Breakfast
"I can't believe you're going to make me stay in a place like that." Said the beautiful woman with an arrogant tone towards her companion. Without realizing that she was being heard by the owner of the small and cozy coastal inn.
"Babe, calm down, the place is really nice and seems to be very comfortable. And it's highly rated on travel sites. We'll be lucky if there's room for us here."
"We wouldn't have to go through this if you had booked a hotel in advance."
"Laura, love. You decided on a trip to a fashionable place at the last minute during high season, there was no vacancy and yet you insisted on coming."
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"Of course, everyone important is here, what do you think my followers would say if I didn't come. An influencer has to be aware of all the trends, Jeremy and this is the place of the moment, only God knows why." Laura replied, making her boyfriend let out a sigh before being prevented from responding by a cheerful and jovial voice.
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"Good night, I'm Cintia, owner of Cozy Cabin, welcome, how can I help you?"
"Good evening, ma'am. My name is Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We are looking for accommodation."
"Oh dear! I'm sorry, but we're all booked up, reservations have been closed for over two months, we've become a very popular place lately." The woman of indecipherable age responded, because at the same time that she showed signs of age, she had an aura of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by a genuine tone of sadness at not being able to help. Which turned into indignation and anger when the young, pretty blonde woman in front of him let out a dismissive giggle followed by a howl of reproach towards her fiancé. However, before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly intervened.
"Isn't there really the slightest possibility Cintia? It would only be for one day so that Laura can take some photos and post them, she is a digital influencer."
"Really? I've never heard of you darling." Cintia said, taking advantage of the moment to repay the young woman's rudeness, who in turn couldn't stand to remain silent.
"I work with a young audience, it's understandable if someone your age doesn't know me." Laura replied, causing Jeremy to have a mortified expression and a dangerous glint to appear in Cintia's eyes.
"Ah, believe me, I know how to recognize an influencer with an impact, right now we are hosting Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, it is already the fifth year that he has visited us at this time. Which gives me a wonderful idea to solve the your problem. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be back with news soon."
"Stupid rag" Laura commented bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.
"Baby, you provoked..."
"Don't stand against me, Jeremy. How she dare, compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos!"
"Laura, be careful what you say, I've heard a lot about Miguel Ramos, he was already a very respected Personal Trainer before becoming a popular fitness influencer and has a good follower base."
That was a huge understatement and they both knew it. While Laura's number of followers had not yet reached hundreds of thousands, Miguel's already surpassed the million barrier. And of course the vain woman didn't like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to tease her fiancé.
"Jeremy, that stubble of yours looks horrible, how many times have I told you to keep your face smooth! My followers prefer you to complement my look!"
Jeremy didn't know if that was true, Laura's followers really praised how much they complemented each other in appearance. But he couldn't help but occasionally wonder if the fact that Laura made him wear clothes in a similar style to hers, coupled with her insistence on keeping a smooth face and his blond hair in neat curls, resembled hers to the point where some people thinking that they were brothers and not a couple was a proof of a totally narcissistic nature as the class's detractors insisted on shouting. However, every time those thoughts arose, Jeremy quickly suppressed them, he had long ago accepted that he would be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a physical educator to follow her, ensuring all her wishes and canceling himself in every way. Because he was completely sure that he was not worthy of her love and that no one in the world would be able to love him like she did. It was precisely because he thought all of this that when he saw Cintia return with a look of satisfaction on her aged face, he responded calmly.
"Yes, love, that's the first thing I'll do as soon as we get to our room.”
"My dears, I found a solution, it's not perfect but it should help for today." Cintia began with a playful smile and that sparkle in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that are not being occupied and two of our guests have kindly provided those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days Mrs. Goldschmitt will return home and her room will be free if you wish." extend your stay."
"You mean you want us to stay in separate rooms?" Laura asked indignantly.
"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if it doesn't suit you, feel free to leave and look for accommodation elsewhere." Cintia replied with an icy smile.
"No, no, it's great, we accept!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more conflicts and the loss of the only stay they found.
"Great! Please follow me, then I'll ask one of the assistants to take your bags to your respective rooms." Cintia replied, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room and knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with developed muscles detailed by a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile in his handsome bearded face.
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"Goodnight." He said simply with a voice exuding masculinity.
"Miguel, dear. These are Jeremy and Lau..."
"You don't need to introduce me, I'm sure Miguel knows who I am." interrupted Laura while Miguel stared at her as if she were a creature that had jumped in front of him.”
"Laura... apparently she's a digital influencer." Cintia continued as if she had not been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos who we talked about earlier and who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."
"Thank you for the lovely introduction Cintia and it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person Laura and you too Jer..." Miguel began, also being interrupted by Laura.
"I think our followers would love a collaboration from us."
"Um, sure, we can discuss this tomorrow, Laura. I believe you are both exhausted now and Cintia still has to take you to your room."
"Yes, yes, you're right, we'll arrange everything tomorrow. Shall we go then?" Laura ended talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who in turn approached his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.
"Good night love, sleep well!" - He said before entering the room and seeing his fiancée being taken by Cintia inside the building.
.....
"Welcome Jeremy, unfortunately you'll have to take the single bed."
"Thank you Miguel, you didn't need to do that or pretend to know Laura."
"Ahh, I'm sorry about that, but I thought it was better, I know how hurt some influencers can be by not being recognized, I've never particularly cared about that, but I've seen some uncomfortable situations to say the least. And as for the bed, It's just a bed, I'm not really using it and Cintia asked me for a favor, she's a great friend and was a lot of help when... anyway, you are welcome here.”
"Still, you didn't have to do any of that, thank you very much." Jeremy replied as he prepared to sleep, thinking about what Miguel had left to say. It was nothing new that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a famous film actor, had been very traumatic, so much so that he had remained out of the spotlight for several months until he was photographed on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in place had lit up. The only news there was knowing that he will not be staying in a luxurious hotel but in Cintia's small and cozy inn. Laura should be happy, Jeremy thought before falling asleep, she had gone to look for copper and apparently she had found gold.
Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the courage to say something else.
"Miguel, thank you really, I'm very grateful for your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura expresses... um... any dissatisfaction with the accommodation arrangements... she's used to get what she wants and... well... there might be some kind of... jealousy... so..."
"She doesn't need to worry Jeremy, I'm not into man skinnier , smaller and younger than me." Miguel responded in a joking tone but causing Jeremy to immediately recoil.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't offend me Jeremy, I was just joking, you can rest assured, in fact feel free in the room, as far as I'm concerned the room is as much yours as mine. Have a good night.”
…..
The morning sun invaded the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to turn over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, being treated to a stunning image, Miguel wearing only white underwear, with his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall as if he was lost in reminiscences. At that moment Jeremy felt something he had never imagined he would feel when seeing another man, a pang of desire, accompanied by a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with when he saw the image of Laura in her naked beauty. His surprise at that was so great that he moved abruptly, causing Miguel to wake up from his reverie.
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"Good morning, I'm sorry if I woke you up, I forgot to close the curtains last night."
"No problem." Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.
"Anyway, I'm already on my way out, going for my morning run before breakfast."
“Oh man, I miss doing that!” Commented Jeremy.
"Do you have this habit too?"
"Yes, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she's not a morning person and gets upset when I wake her up early... anyway, I've been running on the treadmill while she makes the videos her at the gym."
"If you want to train with me..."
"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I'm going to rest a little longer" Jeremy replied, still hiding his erection.
"Then I'll see you later. Sweet dreams." Said an already fully dressed Miguel leaving the room and Jeremy alone with his disconcerting thoughts.
…….
To say that the trip had been a disppointment to Laura would be a huge understatement. First Jeremy hadn't been able to make a simple reservation and even had the nerve to blame her when he should have been able to foresee this kind of thing, then there was the beach itself, she had never liked sun and sea, and only Thinking about sand made her skin itch, but unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos' stellar divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the star's hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that she had to put up with the arrogant old woman who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that fagot and the annoying roommate she that she was sure it had been chosen by the old ghoul with the only intention of irritating her. And it was with a look that reflected her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiance to appear for breakfast, which made her even more indignant, as she was not used to wait and at the same time she refused to call him. After all he should know his place and his duties!
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It was with that sour face that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still sleeping Jeremy. Upon seeing that expression, he seriously thought about escaping from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn't had a good initial impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he saw the type of content she produced, with Jeremy appearing as more of an accessory to her outfit than as a real boyfriend, which raised the suspicion that perhaps the other man was trapped in the type of abusive relationship that he himself had lived in until recently. But before he had time to escape, their eyes met and a practiced smile appeared on her face without reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game very well, Miguel plastered a smile as fake as hers on his own face and approached her table.
"Good morning, Miguel, I hope Jeremy's snoring wasn't disturbing." Laura said, starting the conversation in the worst possible way and making the smile disappear on Miguel's face.
"On the contrary, it didn't bother me at all, Noah snored a lot more." He replied, making a look of irritation momentarily cross Laura's face due to the comparison with his ex-husband. Wasn't it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?
"You're very kind, but it's my fiancé you're talking about, no one knows him like I do."
"Of course, and if you allow me to say, seeing your posts on social media is possible to see all your influence on him." Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.
"Thank you. It was hard work." Laura responded in turn without realizing the criticism embedded in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we going to do our collaboration?" She concludes.
"We'll certainly find a way." He responded in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that would never happen. "If you'll excuse me now I have an appointment. Maybe you should check on Jeremy, when I left the room he was sound asleep. It seemed to me like he hadn't slept so well in a long time." He concludes with a bright and genuine smile before leaving the room, turning his back on a fuming Laura.
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Although Miguel's statement was intended to provoke Laura, that was not far from the truth. Jeremy had slept as well as ever and didn't even wake up when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up he would have been mortified, because in his sleep he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned along with Miguel's presence in the room, while his mind filled itself. one of the most different and vivid dreams he had ever had. In the dream he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not very different from the one where the inn was located, and with the sun bathing his body a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body, he couldn't tell if was it Laura or not, because each kiss given in the dream made him feel an immeasurable ecstasy, strong enough to cover up any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized that the figure in the dream had changed, becoming a muscular man and bearded with his dark body shining with sweat in the morning sun a few seconds before he was awakened by the indignant voice of his fiancée.
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"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Masturbating in that queer's room? How disgusting!"
Said an indignant Laura when she found her boyfriend in that position. Jeremy, taken by surprise in turn, responded without thinking
"Never use that kind of word in my presence again Laura, if there's anything disgusting it's those expressions!"
"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disguting yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these fagots, but apparently you're already quite used to it, right, jacking off in one of their bedrooms. And you didn't even shave that disgusting beard. As if not If you just cut your hair without talking to me, I'm at my limit!" She barked back, causing all the layers of inhibition to return to a now more awake Jeremy.
"I'm sorry, babe, I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can have breakfast together." He said, returning to his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.
"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don't even need to come with me to the beach, I'll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" She replied angrily, leaving the room and a confused and still sleepy Jeremy behind.
He in turn stood up and stretched, losing his balance a little as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that that he had had that height since the beginning of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities that he missed but couldn't find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down he couldn't help but feel an irritation at having given up virtually all of his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to get those intrusive thoughts out of him, he went to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing that there was no point in looking for his girlfriend while she was in that mood, that poor Kayla, whoever she was, who would have to put up with Laura for that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six blocks set on his abdomen, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After getting out of the shower he looked at himself in the mirror, for someone who could no longer follow a strict exercise routine he looked very good, he was slim but defined and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by golden curls in a medium lenght haircut.
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Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to better appreciate the boyfriend she had, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura's constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt it was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.
……..
Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs and the sun's rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned, it was too good for him let it go. After wandering for a long time he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be invaded by it all, with a wave of peace and completeness filling him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, at the same time that his muscles expanded slightly, leaving him with the appearance of someone who trained frequently and carefully.
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And there he would have continued without noticing the changes if he hadn't been interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"
Opening his eyes Jeremy found himself staring at Miguel in all his glory, with a happy smile plastered on his face.
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"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel. But it's been a long time since I've been burned!" He replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.
"Still, the sun around here is much stronger than what you're used to. Let me help you." Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don't mind."
Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice, but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time he couldn't resist that proposal.
"No problem, I think you're exaggerating, but Laura will be unbearable if I burn myself, she already doesn't like my skin being so tanned."
"What nonsense, your skin is beautiful, that tan contrasts very well with your blonde hair, it gives you a healthy look, especially with those defined muscles."
"Thanks man, it's nice to hear a compliment from... hummm”. He groaned when he felt the other man's strong hands massaging his back.
"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.
"No... no... it's just that the sunscreen was cold."
"Ah, I'm done. Just a little more down here." Miguel said with his hands approaching Jeremy's buttocks and making him contract all over.
"Okay, do you want me to apply it in your front?"
"No, you don't need to, I'll do it myself." Jeremy quickly responded, taking the cock from Miguel's hand without even wanting to think about those manly hands near his cock.
"And where is Laura? I thought you helped with her content production."
Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, as if a cloud was blocking out the morning sun.
"We had an argument in the morning... in fact she did what she always does, said what she wanted and left me alone, I guess in the hope that I would go after her... but not this time... she might to fend for herself with her new friend." He responded with a certain bitterness that didn't go unnoticed by Miguel.
"Relationships can be complicated."
"Ours isn't, but I'm starting to think it's just because I'm used to canceling myself out in front of her."
Miguel, who had already noticed that, preferred not to comment anything.
"Anyway, we should see each other later and resolve this, I still love her of course, but some things will have to change in our relationship."
"So how about we do that run now, a little return to your old ways?"
"Are you sure you'll be able to keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."
"Boy, respect me, I'm not one of the best known personal trainers in the world for nothing."
"Then we'll see!" Jeremy replied, getting up and running away.
……
Laura walked with disgust on the beach sand. Her morning, like the rest of that trip, had been dark. Kayla was pleasant company as she shared the same interests as her, although she was in a lower category with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take photos and record videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy's fault, obviously. She still couldn't believe that her worthless boyfriend hadn't come looking for her and even worse for the second time that day it was she who was forced to look for him in the middle of that damned sand.
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It was with this feeling that she watched two muscular men running from the edge of the beach towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her opinion. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those men, the tanned blonde with a haircut made up of a pompadour and a side fade, accompanied by a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his tanned muscular body still moist from the sea water shining in the midday sun.
"Hey babe, how was the morning?"
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"Jeremy, how dare you leave me like that! And that beard, you said you were going to trim it! And your hair??? What nonsense is this?"
"No nonsense Laura. They look the way I like!"
"But not in the way my followers and I expected! You're almost bald! That tan and those excessive muscles weren't enough!"
"Don't exaggerate Laura, and if I decide to shave all my hair I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I decide to cut my hair or my beard."
"Of course it has to do with it, you're my boyfriend, you influence the way I'm perceived!"
"Apparently that's the only way I care about you, how I make others perceive you."
"And how would it be different, I make a living from this, I'm an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to agree with my branding."
"I'm not your accessory, Laura."
"Well, my dear, in the end it's as if you were!"
"So I don't know if I still want to continue this relationship." He replied, turning his back on an angry Laura.
"Jeremy! Don't you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn't turn around and walked aimlessly towards the other side of the beach, followed by the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.
…..
Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn by the despair of losing the woman he believed he loved and the growing feeling of contempt for that same woman. How could he cancel himself out for so long, how could he not see who she was? And at the same time she had been his life for the last few years, how could he live without her? He certainly wouldn't be capable of that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself by her forgiveness, he started running. Only stopping when he heard the voice did he start to associate that strange feeling, mixed with desire and comfort.
"Hey, Big Guy, what's the rush?" Asked a smiling Miguel sitting on a bench in a beach bar.
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"Sorry Miguel, I need to find Laura!"
"And what would be the point of talking to her with a hot head, wait for you two to calm down."
"You do not understand!"
"Ah, I understand. I understand so much that I'm going to offer you the two things you need most right now, company and a few shots of Tequila!"
"I do not know dude..."
"Relax man and follow me." Miguel said, taking Jeremy by the arms and taking him to a table in the bar.
…..
"I shouldn't interfere in your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a complicated divorce. And the truth is that it took me a long time to realize that I was in an abusive relationship." - Miguel said to a saddened Jeremy.
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"I'm not in a relationship like that, I love Laura." Jeremy replied, but with less conviction than he wanted to make it seem.
"And does she respond to this love? She loves you the same way you love her."
"It is clear..."
"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don't want to be honest with someone you barely know."
"I want to believe so, but..."
"But you have doubts. Let me propose a little game, I'm going to ask you some questions about relationships and for every positive answer from you and me we'll drink a shot of tequila, I bet you that we'll drain a bottle with ease.
"First question. Have you ever felt that you were giving much more of yourself to this relationship than your partner?"
The two took a shot and although neither of them noticed, the tan on Jeremy's skin deepened, reaching a caramel tone very close to Miguel's.
"Second question: Have you ever felt diminished by your partner?"
Another shot for both. And now Jeremy's height has increased making him several inches taller than Miguel.
"Third question: have you ever felt that you are nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that he doesn't even see you as a person but as an object?"
Another shot. Another change. Jeremy's muscles expanded, surpassing the size of Miguel's and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half full, but both men, who were not small, were already quite upset, as that level of drinking was not part of either of their habits.
"One more... one more..." A drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy's vision. "Have you ever felt like you're in this relationship out of fear... afraid that you're not good enough... that you can't be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?
Another shot and Jeremy's already blurred vision began to swirl as a feeling of anxiety took over him for finally admitting those truths even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense desire to get up and run away, but as he did so he fell to the ground.
"Jeremy, Jeremy..." He heard the voice in the distance, that voice, which awakened so many feelings in him. "Jeremy..." A voice that made him realize that he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." The voice that made him excited just by hearing it. "Jav..." The voice of the man he was in love with but couldn't admit."
"Javier, get up, is everything okay?"
And Javier stood up amid laughter.
"It's all right Miguel, it was just bad form, it takes a lot more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size." Replied a smiling Javier Garcia, sitting at the table again. At the same time he ran his hands through his long, glossy black beard.
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"Let me ask the question now." Javier said, smiling wider. "Do you think you're ready to leave this relationship behind and move on to better opportunities?"
One more shot for both.
…..
Javier lay down on the cramped single bed in the room he shared with Miguel, feeling his head spinning. While the roommate spent non-productive time feeling the same thing sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to spill everything he had eaten that day, he felt his cell phone vibrate. When he looked at the screen he noticed that there were hundreds of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better condition, he closed his eyes again and thus did not see each of those messages and calls disappear from the records.
With his head still spinning he fell into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that thin, beautiful blonde woman. In the dream she lay down on him again and began kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman's skin gave way to that rough sensation of a beard shaving the skin. his body and then it was Miguel who kissed him, rekindling the flame of desire within him. As he slept he moaned with excitement, with a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel's real mouth wrap around his engorged cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being invaded by the no longer strange sensation of real desire.
After hours of wild sex, Javier got up from the only bed in that room, a King Size bed reinforced to support the weight of two athletes. Stretching, he stopped to admire the muscular body of a professional bodybuilder in the bedroom mirror.
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Every fiber of his body was worked with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his shaved hair and finished the movement with his long, soft beard. He knew he would have to shave it before the performance but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him too much that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the bed and watched Javier look at himself in the mirror.
"A penny for your thoughts." Said the smaller and younger man but who had still won the position of his coach along Javier's heart.
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"It's no big deal, Mig, I was just looking in the mirror and thinking it's a shame to have to shave, you like it so much..."
"Javi, I want you with or without a beard, I don't care how you present yourself, I care about being with you."
"So you mean if I were smaller and thinner you'd still be with me?"
"Maybe you wouldn't have caught my attention at first sight, but like I said, I care about the person you are, the man I fell in love with and if he loses weight or gains weight that won't change."
"Thanks, babe. That's really good to hear." Javier replied, going to the bathroom.
"Where are you going, are you going to shave now?"
"I thought you didn't care about my beard."
"I don't mind, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it a little more and you a little of this" Miguel replied, lifting the covers and revealing his huge hardened cock and making a big smile spread across Javier's face.
……
The afternoon sun shone like never before, but even that didn't seem to light up Laura's life as she gossiped with Kayla in the bar by the sea, while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talk.
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"Is this a good time? They seem to be arguing." Asked Kayla to her colleague.
"Just because they're serious doesn't mean they're fighting. If we take into account their social networks, they're living wonderfully." Laura replied.
"You know as well as I do how deceiving social media can be."
"Still, this is our chance to collaborate with them, it's not every day that we get to work together with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the world."
"Smile, they're looking this way!" Said Kayla, making both of them give identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up, put on their tank tops and headed towards the beach.
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"There goes our chance." Laura grumbled.
"Don't worry my dear, people like you always get what they deserve." Said a smiling Cintia who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and smiling.
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A smile that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she was proud of, it was a job well done and at her inn that meant much more than just bed and breakfast.
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