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sumirhatos · 7 months

Text

Exposed addictions

Red Velvet - Irene x Male reader

7.6k words

TW: foot fetish, feet worshiping, squirting, fingering, facial, slight humiliation.

This is chapter 1.

Chapter 2. With Joy you can find here https://www.tumblr.com/sumirhatos/743226946594504704/photoshoot

It was a simple "Idol Room" filming day as always, or at least you thought so until you finished the day.

"Good job everyone; I'll see you all next time", you said to the whole filming team and to the Red Velvet girls.

Everyone started to gather their belongings and equipment, and the Red Velvet girls were leaving. But not her.

"PD-nim, can you give me a minute in my dressing room? I need to have a word with you", Joohyun said, looking at you with a cold face. Then she turned around and left for her dressing room.

"Sure, I'll be there in a minute", you answered, finishing the discussion with one of the filming crew members.

"Joohyun, may I come in?", you asked, knocking on the door and pressing the handle.

"Yes", she replied with the cold voice that she's famous for.

You enter the room and see her sitting on a couch, dangling her heels, presumably waiting for you. She still has that judging but cute face, or more like a concerned-uncomfortable face; that's how you would describe it.

"Joohyun, you did a great job today; it was a pleasure to work with you as always," you said with a respectful smile.

"Actually, I don't know if I can say likewise, to be honest. I'm not sure if you know, but I've noticed some weird tendencies today", she stopped for a second and then continued.

"Your crew was taking so many close-up shots of our asses, thighs, and boobs today when me and the girls were trying really hard to do those Pilates poses. I don't know about you, but it made me really uncomfortable", she added.

You were speechless... You are exposed. This never happened; nobody gave a shit how or what you and your crew filmed; the only thing that mattered was their whole image and screen time. You tried your best to break the silence with something, but it didn't matter.

"Umm, I'll talk to the crew", you replied to her, a noticeable nervousness replacing your smile. "I'm pretty sure it's just some misunderstanding."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no», she interrupts you mid-phrase, "talk to the crew? Misunderstanding?", "Are you shitting me?" she exclaims.

"This is YOUR crew, and YOU are the director", she continues, raising her voice even more.

" YOU are to blame here; either you don't have any fucking authority over your own people, so they do whatever they want, or you are just a sick fucking pervert who films the idols and their body parts for perverted use, both of which are fucking disgusting and pathetic."

You have nothing to say in your defense here because you know that you are guilty. She is correct. You are a pervert and a disgusting human...

"I can get you fucking fired for shit like this and make sure to end your fucking career; I can make your little life miserable," she said aggressively.

Realization hits you like a fucking train; you can lose everything. Everything you have worked for for years will vanish like thin air.

Panic starts to get all over you. "Please, P-please, J-Joohyun, I'll do anything in the world, I-I'll give you all my money", you started to stutter, "Please, Joohyun, what do you want me to do? I can have a word with other producers to-"

"Silence!", she interrupts you; she's definitely angry.

"On your knees!", ordered Joohyun. "And don't you fucking dare to speak until I allow you to", she added.

You obey her order, kneel on your knees in front of her, and go silent.

"Such a pathetic loser. How dare you talk to me like that? I hate it when people get too comfortable with me; who said you can use my name?" she said.

"M-my apologies, Miss Bae-", a very hard slap on your left cheek interrupts you. "Ah, what the fuck?", you exclaimed. There comes another slap on the same left cheek, but no words leave your mouth this time.

You have never seen her like that, even when she was off stage or filming for TV shows. What is this? Is this the real Bae Joohyun? Was all of the bully Irene's rumor true? Is she really rude in person? And that cute, loving mother image is just an act to get more fans? She was scary.

"Who allowed you to talk? Was I not clear enough?", she asks with an evil grin. "Be quiet, and I might not slap you again, but if you fail to obey, I will throw you out and report to the police that you tried to rape me. Have I made myself clear this time?", devil smiles at you from above.

You don't say a word; your response is just a nod. You learned the lesson and are ready to comply.

"Good", she smiles. "So, where were we? Oh right! You said you were going to do anything in the world to save your ass, right? I was thinking about a personal toy-dog for my own use. Sounds interesting, right?", she giggles, that evil woman...

You nod again.

"Awesome, first of all, let's see how well you can follow your owner's commands, dog", she says with a smirk on her face. "Get on all four", she adds.

You obey by getting on both your palms and knees, like an obedient dog...

"Bring me my bag; it's on the table there", she says, pointing at the table near the mirror.

You crawl to the other side of the room, get that expensive Miu Miu bag in your teeth, and crawl back to the couch.

"Wow, very good. Plus points for the effort", she says, appreciating your actions and opening her bag, starting to look for something inside.

"Oh, here it is", she says, getting some bottle out of her bag and throwing it to you. "There, I think you know what this is for. It was an exhausting day today, and I feel stiff", she says, smiling with that evil smirk again.

Confused, you start reading into what kind of bottle she threw at you. Soft moisturizer, foot cream, wait what? Foot cream??? You are shocked and stunned at the same time by the task you were assigned. A few minutes ago, she scolded you and threatened to ruin your life, but now she wants you to apply foot cream to her feet? What the fuck is wrong with her?

Still shocked by her command and trying to realize it, you began to sweat profusely. It takes you a minute to get out of the stupor she's gotten you into.

Joohyun noticed that you were surprised by her order and thrown off by her command, so she took initiative into her own hands. To shake you up, she took her left shoe off her foot and brought the shoe an inch to your face.

"Sniff it, dog, ha-ha", an evil laugh escapes her pretty puffed lips.

Little does she know that you're going to enjoy this. So, without hesitation, you put the shoe in your face and took a whiff without her noticing that you were actually enjoying it and prolonging this.

You don't get a chance to distinguish much of the scent; it's just a smell of new fabric, sweat, and some sweet smell.

"Very good, take another sniff, deeper this time, like a good boy you are", she playfully smirks with excitement on her face. I bet she enjoys the show.

Following the order, you take a deeper sniff this time. The combination of scents that pierce your nose gives you enjoyment: the smell of shoe fabric, a sweet rose scent, supposedly from her shower gel or something, and a little bit of the scent of her sweat, indicating that she was wearing these shoes for a while today.

You just realized that you are smelling the shoes of one of the prettiest and most desired idols out there. This is unreal. Your dick is ready to rip your pants apart already...

You give it another big whiff, and it completely brings you back into reality. Yeah, it's not a dream.

"That's enough", she commands you, taking her shoe from you and removing another one from her right foot, placing her heels near the couch. Even though she's ordering you around right now, it's an absolute heaven to have the feet of the goddess presented to you on a golden plate.

She's wiggling her toes in front of your face with that dark polish on her nails, sort of saying "get to work", but you wait for her to allow you to proceed because you don't want to get punched or slapped again, even though you don't mind if it's Bae Joohyun slapping you.

"What are you waiting for, dog? For an invitation? Your master needs a good fucking massage", she says. "Get to work, now!", she exclaims with a slightly higher pitch. Is she losing patience?

Not wanting to keep her waiting, you open a bottle of foot cream and are about to pour some of it out, but she immediately stops you.

"Nah nah nah, doggie, you know that before applying cream, the skin should be cleaned?", she says, smiling at you with that freaking devilish smile that makes your cock twitch in your pants. "Oh no, I don't have any wet wipes left. What do we do? I think we will need you to improvise", she teases you, almost bursting into an evil laugh.

Not only did Bae Joohyun let you sniff her shoes, but now she wants you to clean her petite feet with your mouth? Is it really a punishment?

Wasting no time, you put the bottle of cream aside and got to the main course. You gently take her right foot by the ankle and bring it to your face. Even though Joohyun ordered this, she reflectively tried to jerk her foot away from you, but you pulled it a little bit harder and placed her sole on your mouth with her toes right on your nostrils.

Joohyun had been surprised by your assertiveness; you could see that in her eyes, but she lets it slide.

Her saying nothing is the green light for you, Starting with the kisses on her arch under the ball of her foot, a few kisses on the right and a few kisses on the left side of the foot, at the same time you give her toes huge sniffs, taking in the scent that you could remember from the shoes. Again, rose scent, her body odor, sweat, but right from the source, a slight shoe fabric smell — such a sweet mix. Simultaneously, you massaged the bottom of her sole, right above the heel. This moment will be imprinted in your memory forever.

"Mmmm, yeah, that's nice; yeah, right there, that's the sore spot", she says. "But I think I said cleaning, not kissing", she says, staring at you with that cute face of hers.

"You asked for it, Miss Joohyun", you think to yourself as you insert her toes into your mouth. Once again, she's absolutely shocked and tries to get her foot away from you, but yet again, your grasp is stronger than hers, and you keep her feet in place.

Concentrating on licking, sucking, and slurping on her delicious toes, you tried to gather as much flavor as possible, moving your tongue over her toenails and between the toes. The taste of her toes drives you crazy; you have to be blind to not notice the bulge underneath your pants, but you don't care about it. It's Joohyun's fault you are that horny.

After bathing her toes for a few more seconds, you take them out of your mouth and begin to lick the ball of the foot, going down to the sole, arch, swinging your tongue left and right to not miss any spots.

"Ugh, ah! It tickles!", she says, not stopping your worshiping.

Getting down to the heel of the foot, you give it a few licks on the left and right sides, and then you give a lick to the whole sole from bottom to top, finishing the act with a kiss to her cute little toes.

"Good job, my dog, that was actually interesting and amusing to watch; you've done much better than I expected, maybe too well", she says with a smile on her gorgeous face.

"I think she's satisfied with my work", you think to yourself. "Is she not angry anymore?"

"Well, Mr. foot fetishist, I think we both know this is merely a punishment for you", she smiles and taps you on your chest with her foot.

"I think we need to do something about it, don't you think?", she asks with that evil smirk again...

"What's on her mind this time?", you think to yourself, but you nod in agreement.

"Undress, pervert", she smiles and wiggles her toes in anticipation.

Surprised by her order, you hesitate for a few seconds but obey. There goes your hoodie, your jeans, your socks, and your t-shirt; the only piece of clothing that can't hide your massive bulge is your boxers. She checks you out and nods in approval.

"Oh no!", she giggles. "What's that?", she asks, pointing with her foot to a wet spot on your underwear.

"Take it off; I want to see my pet fully", she commands. But you don't want to do that. "I said, take, it, off", she says in a little bit higher pitch and continues, "Right, fucking now. Or do you want me to call the police and report you to them?"

Fuck... You have no choice... There goes nothing; you yanked the underwear aside, trying to cover yourself...

All of a sudden, she snaps a few photos of you, laughing at you.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!?", you ask angrily, trying to cover your face and your erect dick.

"Oh yeah, this will do; I bet she's going to like it", she says, completely ignoring your question. "And, send", the "click" sound comes out of her phone, and a laugh of evil Joohyun escapes her mouth.

You are getting even more angry at her. "What the hell? Who the fuck are you sending those to?!"

"Your girlfriend, or should I say ex-girlfriend?", she says, laughing at you.

"YOU SENT IT TO WHO AGAIN?", you raise your voice. "Are you fucking crazy? Who do you think you are?", you ask her.

" No, who the fuck do you think YOU are, to raise your voice at me?", she replies. "You are a fucking nobody, just a small director of a filming crew for a big ass entertainment company; you have no authority or power; nobody knows you; you are a fucking noname", she says with a huge smile and pride in her voice.

Even though you think she's evil and has no right to abuse you here, you know that she is correct. You are a nobody; you have no power. She, on the other hand, does have the power, and she's loved by the media, so nobody will believe you that you've been bullied or offended by her... There is no way you can win this...

"You are evil", you say...

"Yeah, I know that", she says with a calm voice. We are done here."

She puts her shoes on, gathers her things, and walks to the door.

"Don't be sad about your girlfriend's dog; you have a master now; wait for my call", she says with a smile on her face and leaves the room...

"How did she even know my girlfriend's phone number? Did she plan all of this shit?", you ask an empty room, but obviously there is no answer.

"This fucking bitch", you say, punching the desk with all your anger.

You put on the clothes that Joohyun made you take off and leave the room. The filming set was empty.

"I guess everyone left. Well, at least there was nobody to witness your defeat", you think to yourself.

You check your watch, and it's 11:38 p.m.

You go to the elevator, downstairs into the hall, through the security gates, and leave the building.

You catch the taxi and go home. By the time of your arrival, you have played all of the scenarios in your head about how to explain to your girlfriend what the fuck she just received on her phone.

You arrive at your apartment building in 15 minutes, then go to the 11th floor, fishing for the keys while on the elevator. All of your good memories with your girlfriend are flashing before your eyes; those good times are gone...

You get into your apartment, expecting the worst scenario to play out.

"Hey honey, you are late today. How was work?", she asks you with a smile on her face.

"H-hi", you reply, confused. Why is she not mad at me? "If I were her, I'd have scolded myself or killed myself."

"Fortunately, Miss Bae messaged me that you were going to be late, so I prepared a late dinner for you; she's so nice! I'm so glad that the rumors on the internet that she's a bad person are all false!", she exclaims happily. "Food is on the table; I'm going to bed", she continues, yawning at you.

"O-okay, thank you. G-good night.", you reply to her, seeing her off to the bedroom.

"What the actual fuck is going on?", you ask yourself in bewilderment. "Did Bae Joohyun trick you? What a fucking psycho!"

In the blink of an eye, you munch on all of the food your girlfriend prepared for you and go to the bathroom to take a cold shower and clear your mind.

"What a tricky little bitch this woman is..." Bae Joohyun, the woman who makes you angry and horny at the same time Thoughts about her made you rewind all of the things that happened this evening: her scent, the taste of her feet, her hot, evil face... In a second, you find yourself rocking hard again... Thinking about her, you furiously jerk off, moaning her name a few times.

Getting down from your orgasm, you wash yourself and get out of the shower.

After wiping yourself with a towel, you dress in your pajamas, go to the bedroom, and lay down next to your girlfriend. That night you didn't get much sleep, thinking about Bae Joohyun, thinking about what happened and what you had done... "I'm a cheater", you think to yourself...

For two days straight, you were not able to get her out of your mind for a second — her smell, her voice, the look on her face when you were worshiping her feet...

Another two work days fly by with boring shootings with some boring idols. All your thoughts are about that day; this was the most memorable thing that ever happened to you, even though your career and your relationships were at stake.

"Shit, I think she really could've reported me to the police, and I might've ended up in jail or something", you exclaim.

Even in bed with your girlfriend, you have imagined Joohyun. "Am I obsessed with the person that actually almost ruined my life? Why is this happening? I need to visit a psychologist", you think to yourself. "I might be crazy..."

It is 10:30 p.m., and you are back home from work having a meal with your girlfriend.

**BZZ BZZ**, your phone buzzing all of a sudden. A message notification from some unknown number appears on your screen. Without stopping to munch on your meal, you open the message.

"Missed me, doggie? ;)", the message said. Surprised by this message, you goggle your eyes so much that they almost pop out.

"Missed you? Of course I fucking did, you've been on my mind for almost a week, and I can't stop fucking thinking about you, your scent, your smile, how you talked to me, your teasing-", you stopped typing your response and erased your message.

"No, if I send her something like this, it will only mean that she won and that she really got to you..."

**BZZ BZZ**, another notification: "Hotel apartments in 30 minutes", the message says.

"What am I supposed to tell my girlfriend? It's almost 11:00 p.m.!

**BZZ BZZ**, and another notification; it's a video this time.

The message contains the video; you open it up and... You almost choked on your food and started to cough.

It's you, worshiping her foot... Sniffing her toes, sucking on them, and licking every part of her sole.

You rewinded everything that happened that day in details, and you immediately have a boner because of it, "How the hell did she even film this, that sneaky bitch..."

**BZZ BZZ** "I'm pretty sure you don't want to know what is going to happen if you don't show up, right? (^_^)", another message says.

"Yes...", you send your reply to her.

"Good, Four Seasons Hotel, room 317, and don't be late :)"

**Sigh** You put down your phone and go get into your clothes, you get the keys and put on your shoes.

"Hey, are you going somewhere?", your girlfriend asks you with a sleepy voice as she gets out of your bedroom.

"Y-yeah our editing crew hasn't completed the episode of a show we are supposed to air tomorrow, so they need all the extra hands we can get", you lie to her. "I'm not sure if we're going to complete this fast or not, so don't wait for me; go back to sleep, honey."

"Oaaaah-kay", she says, yawning. "Don't overwork yourself, please", she says, reaching for your face for a kiss. You give her a fast peck on the cheek.

"I'll try not to", you reply to her with a smile, and then leave.

"What the fuck am I doing with my life?", is the only thought that crosses your mind.

The time is 11:04 in the Four Seasons Hotel hall at the reception desk.

"Hello, sir, how may I help you?", a cute receptionist girl asks you.

"Umm... Room 317, please", you say nervously.

"Here is your key, please", she says, handing you the keys. "Please have a wonderful night, sir", she continues, giving you a bright smile.

"Yeah, if only that was possible", you mumbled under your nose.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't catch that", she says, confused.

"N-nothing, what floor was it again?", you reply to her.

"Top floor, sir", she said with a smile again.

Then you head to the elevators; getting to the 29th floor was quite easy, and then you go to the doors of room 317.

You get the keys out of your pocket and are about to open the door. "What the fuck am I doing with my life?!?! It's not too late to go to my girlfriend, tell her everything, and beg for her forgiveness; maybe it's still possible to salvage our relationship?", you say.

"I should leave...", you continued, "It is absolutely wrong!", you turn around and are ready to leave when the door opens and you see her...

"Mmm, my servant has arrived", she says with a seductive voice and a smile on her gorgeous face. "Well, come in then", she says, turning around and getting back inside. Your mind goes blank on the spot, and you just obey...

She's wearing a tight black dress with an open back; it also barely covers her thighs. On her feet, she has some black shoes with a strap going over the top of her feet.

"Wine?", she asks, pointing at the half-empty bottle resting on the expensive table near the massive couch.

You reply with a nod, sitting down. She picks up the bottle and pours the dark red liquid into two glasses, putting one on one side of the table for you and taking one for herself.

She then sits on the left side of you, defiantly putting both of her feastworthy legs on the couch.

You try to distract yourself by looking around and checking out the whole apartment. "This must be a fortune to get this room at least for one night", you say.

"Yeah, that's one of the perks of being a top idol at our agency; I can stay here whenever I want thanks to the connections our top managers have", she comments, sipping some wine, and then continues.

"So, how are things with your girlfriend? Was she mad at you when she saw the pictures of you licking my foot?", she asks with a devilish smile, the same smile that got you going a few days before.

"You tricked me; you haven't sent her anything; you just wanted to torture me; you wanted me to feel terrible, to feel like a cheater and a total dick!", you exclaim, taking a big sip of wine from your glass.

"Ironic, but you are dick", she says with an indifferent voice. "If you were not a cheater, then you would not have come here", she continues, taking another sip of wine.

She is correct, though... Why DID you come here? If you were not a cheater, you would have been at home with your girlfriend... Fuck... Idiot...

Getting mad at yourself, you downed a whole glass of wine...

"Wow... That's not how you drink expensive wine, you peasant", she says with a disappointed face.

Weird silence comes to the room; only the sound of the air conditioner can be heard. Joohyun is drinking wine, and you are just staring at her like an idiot.

She puts her glass down on the table, stretches her arms and legs, then gets comfortable resting her elbows on the back of the couch.

"Why am I here, Miss Bae?", you spill the obnoxious question.

"Give it a guess", she replies with a cute smile.

"I don't know? Torture me again? Make me do things that will ruin my life?", you ask her with some anger and impatience in your voice.

"You know exactly why you are here, you want to continue what we started last time", she said.

"N-no, I'm here to save my life and career; in order to do that, I have to comply and do whatever your fucked-up mind comes up with", you answer her, thinking how annoying she is.

"Is that so?", she asks, pouting, putting her legs on your thighs. Her feet are very close to your dick.

This gets you off guard. Just her legs in your crotch start to give you an erection.

"Y-you blackmailed me, so did I even have a choice?", you ask her nervously.

"I think you already know the answer", she replies, reaching for her shoes and slipping them off, revealing her cute little feet to you once again and wiggling her toes.

She has bright pink polish on this time, and you notice that her feet are quite veiny, not too veiny though, a slight indication of her feet bones adding some texture to it, just perfect.

When she lifts her feet on her heels, her tendons become more prominent, which looks even sexier.

Worried that she might notice your forming boner, you started to sweat a little trying to shift on the couch, and kind of spaced out.

She shoves her foot right into your face, slightly kicking your cheek with her toes and ball of the foot.

"Hello, anybody home?", she says, still kicking you with her little foot.

Immediately, you regain your strength and gently grab her cute little feet. You massage her soles, between her toes, heels, and balls of the feet.

"Ooooh yeah, just like that, oh yeah, it feels so good; how are you so good at this?", she asks, appreciating your skills.

"I've taken masseur courses and had—", she didn't let you finish your sentence.

She puts her toes on your lips, "No talking, Mr.", she says with a smile.

You got the hint by enveloping those toes in your mouth, sucking on them one by one, licking between them, and sucking again.

"Oooh, Mmmm", she gasps. "Yes, yes, my sweet boy, worship my feet; do you love them that much?", she asks you with a sweet yet seductive voice of hers.

You don't say anything, switching to another foot performing the same act with her toes licking and sucking it.

She starts to moan a little, so you switch to her smooth soles.

First, you put both of them on your face, embracing their softness and elegance.

Her feet have the same rose scent as the last time, but it is much more distinctive this time, with almost no sweat scent, as if she just took a shower before your arrival.

Then, after sniffing her soles for a minute or so, you start to swing your tongue left and right, up and down, licking every spot.

But why does it feel different? There is something wrong with her behavior. She is not trying to take her feet away from you; she lets you worship them as much as you want.

Sweet moans distracted you and made you look at what she was doing. While you were concentrated on sucking on one of her toes, Joohyun slipped her fingers in her underwear and started to play with her pussy, stimulating her clitoris, which was already wet because of you. The view of Joohyun masturbating in front of you made you stop completely.

"Uhh... Fuck", she whines, "wh-why did you stop?", without stopping the motion with her **burried** hand, she moans.

With the grace of a cheetah, you shifted your position to face her, gently grabbed both of her butt cheeks, and dragged her ass closer towards you, slipping off her underwear. All of this happened so fast, leaving her no window to react to it.

"W-what are you doing?!", she exclaims, trying to hide her dripping wet pussy crossing her legs, but you don't let her do that, grabbing them and putting them both on your shoulders. You take both of her petite hands off her entrance; she does not really put up any fight, letting you look at her lower bottom in all its glory.

Pinkish-red color of her lips, clean shaven or even lasered, slim, and dripping with woman juices.

Her face has changed in anticipation of your next move. And who are you to make your queen wait?

You start off by just rubbing her pussy with the palm of your hand up and down, but it was enough for her to produce a sweet moan. Then you do a circling motion on her clitoris with your fingers, forcing her to squeal a little.

"N-no p-please I'm too sensitive,", escapes her mouth. She does not resist though; it's a sign that you shall proceed. You insert your middle and ring fingers into her, making her moan loudly. You start the in and out motion, which makes her moan even louder with each motion, the best music to your ears.

It has been nearly half a minute, but she's already dripping profusely all over your hand. "What a dirty slut", you think to yourself.

With your free hand, you did something she would never expect you to do: you rubbed it on her rear entrance, teasing the areola with your middle finger, and then you inserted it inside, which almost made her scream.

"W-What the f-fuuuuhhhhck", she couldn't contain herself. "Aaah f-fuck, not my butt, i-it's not right", she can't stop moaning and screaming; attempts to muffle her own screams and moans with her hands are unsuccessful.

This doesn't last long, though, and you completely stopped the motion by withdrawing your fingers from her.

"Hey! I was almost done!", she exclaims with a lewd pout on her sweaty but gorgeous face.

"I know", you replied with a grin, leaning forward. Diving in between her milky thighs, you start to lick her pussy while inserting your middle finger inside of her asshole once again.

"FUCK! OH MY GOD!", she screams in protest, but you already know she enjoys it.

You nimble her clitoris with your tongue, making circle movements around it with each motion. With each motion, you anticipate what is about to come. A little bit more stimulation was more than enough.

"Oh my god, I'm going to... fuuuuuck", she groans and squeals. You speed up your pace, licking and sucking her whole entrance while fingering her butthole. "I'M CUMMING!", she screams, crossing the line of no return.

A gush of excitement escapes her core, and she clasps her thighs tightly on your head, almost crushing it. You don't waste any time embracing all that she has to offer; those female secretions are going all over your face, in your mouth, and under her, staining the couch.

After what felt like eternity, she eases her thigh grip on your skull, coming down from her high.

Wow, that was unexpected; I didn't know you would be such a squirter, Miss Bae", you say, getting up.

"I-I didn't expect it to be so good either", she replies to you with an exhausted, stuttering voice. "I think I've never had an orgasm like that".

She picks up her phone from the table, browses through it for a second, and shows you the screen. "Your due is paid. Look, I've deleted all of the videos and pictures I took of you that day..."

"I don't know if I should believe you; you tricked me the last time", you answer to her.

"That is why I will let you have some pictures of me instead, to prove to you that I'm not mad at you anymore", she says, giving you the phone. "Go ahead, make some shots".

You take the phone and start to snap pictures of her naked pussy that you just feasted on, some shots of her feet that you just worshiped, and some of her ass that you just fingered.

When you are finished, you hand the phone back to her, and she sends all of the photos that you just took.

"No way, is she for real right now?", you think to yourself. "She actually sent me those pictures.

"Are you going to blackmail me or report me to the police for the possession of these photos?", you ask her.

"No? Why would I do that? It doesn't really make sense to me to report you now and lose the best worshiper I ever had?", she says with a huge smile on her face.

"I guess?", you give her a cold response, "Now that I've **repaid** you, I should go home".

"No, we are not finished", she says, getting up, grabbing you by the arm, and throwing you back on the couch. She's fully recovered.

She's getting on top of you, grinding her wet pussy on your bulge.

Staring right into your eyes, she is everything right now, the most beautiful woman in the world and she is yours now.

After a few more seconds, she dismounts. You let her lead, waiting for her next move. She gets on her knees, positioning herself between your legs.

She drags her palm up and down on your bulge, feeling the rock-hard erection; this makes you shiver. She does not tease you for long, though; she unbuckles your belt and throws it away, unbuttons, and unzips your pants.

Grabbing both your pants and underwear, she yanks them past your knees, releasing your erection to the world.

"Wow", she says, admiring the length and hardiness of your shaft, "are you so hard just because of me? That's not good; how can I let you go home with a boner like this?", she continues, "I think we should do something about this", she smirks at you.

She grabs your cock with one hand and your balls with another. Starting slowly with moving her small, delicate hand up and down your shaft, in the meantime, massaging your balls pent up with a few days of unreleased semen.

"Do you like it?", she says with a smile. "I can be a very good girl, you know?", she smirks and speeds up the pace, making you throw your head back and enjoy what she's doing.

"Fuck, of course I do", you groan a little. "I wonder how you learned these techniques".

You're gonna like this then, she says, and she starts to lick your balls, adding another layer to the act. She jerks you off even faster with one hand, rubbing your head with another.

Louder groans escape your mouth, indicating that she's doing everything right.

Then comes a complete stop... "What- why-", you were about to start to protest missing the friction on your cock, that's when she replaces her hands with her mouth sealing her puffed lips around your head and almost with the same pace she starts to bob her head up and down your shaft.

Slurping your precum, she swirls her tongue all over your cock, giving you probably the best head of your life.

"FUCK, J-Joohyun, I'm gonna fucking cum if you don't slow down!", you exclaim, but you started to move on your own helping her with the pace she chose to blow you with, chasing the orgasm that you were looking for.

She slows down the motion, keeping only the head of your cock in her mouth for a few more seconds, swirling her tongue around the tip. Then she removes her mouth from your cock. "No, no, no, we can't let that happen right now", she says, gasping and almost running out of air.

She gets up and yanks your sweaty hoodie and shirt off you and then mounts you again, "I need your cock in me so bad!"

You grab her gently by her ass cheeks to help her aim, positioning your cock head on her front entrance. She couldn't wait much longer, so she took the initiative and sank on your rock-hard rod, making both parties produce groans caused by the friction.

"Holy fuck, you are so fucking tight!", you manage to say.

"Fuck, yes, you are so big in my pussy", she compliments you back.

Impatience-impatience, you do not let her decide what to do next, so you take the matter in your own hands, literally.

Grabbing her by the hips, you impale her on your dick with all your might, reaching the depths of her core.

"Fuck, so deep inside of me", she moans, picking up the pace. "Yes, fucking destroy my pussy, ravage me, big boy".

In the act of euphoria, her hands are wandering all over your chest and stomach, scratching you here and there and leaving marks.

"Fuck, Joohyun, your pussy is so fucking good, the tightest one I've had in my life!", you exclaim, grabbing her voluptuous thighs even stronger.

Both of hers and your moans and sounds of sex can probably be heard from miles away... But who the fuck cares? People should expect something like that to happen in hotels.

All of a sudden she kisses you, the first ever kiss between you two. Her tongue is getting into your mouth... You don't resist her at all; instead, you join her with your tongue, taking the ""fight"".

Seconds become hours; you don't want this to stop, ever... Grasping for some air, she's breaking the kiss.

"Fuck, I'm cuming again; this cock is too much for my little pussy, FUCK!" - she screams, releasing a small portion of her female juices: "Ah fuck, p-please slow down; you are gonna break me", she continues with another moan-squeal.

But you have other plans; you don't even think to slow down the motion; instead, you increase the pace, hugging her tighter and pistoning your dick in her with a high speed.

"F-f-f-fuuuuuck! Ah! Stop!", she gasps and cries out loud. "I'm cumming", she moans.

Yes, Joohyun, cum for me, cum on this cock", you demand, squeezing her.

Right that instant, she surrenders to the pleasure. For the second time of the night, she's releasing her woman fluids. Her liquids are gushing on your cock, adding more lubrication, and her pussy contracts, squeezing your dick much harder, bringing even more resistance to the motion.

"Fuck, Joohyun, you are too tight on my dick; I'm not gonna last long", you say to her, getting ready to deposit your cum into her womb.

"N-no", she gasps, trying to catch some air. "D-don't you fucking dare", she tries to make a mad face, still high from her own orgasm.

"B-but-" - you were about to start to protest.

That's the moment when you hear the suite bedroom door opening, taking you by surprise. You stop completely.

An extremely gorgeous girl gets out of the room and heads towards you.

"S-Sooyoung? What the fuck are you doing here?", you ask her, pulling out of Joohyun and sitting down and covering yourself with one of the pillows.

"Hello oppa", she replies with a big yawn, sitting down on the couch next to you two as if nothing is happening.

"Jesus, Did you hear everything happening in here?", you asked her.

"Well, not everything; I was asleep until unnie started to scream", she said, smirking at Joohyun.

"And yeah, nobody is allowed to cum inside her, not even a cutie like you; she hates it", Sooyoung decrees. Me, on the other hand, I let my man blast my pussy with all they got", she adds, lifting her lingerie and trailing her panties with a few fingers, giving you a lustful wink.

Then she gets up and comes closer to you, running her hand on your arm, going to your chest, your abs, and then trailing down to your dick that was inside Joohyun just a few moments ago. Joohyun has been silent for now, still panting from the orgasm she just had.

"Here, let me help you", she says, giving you a kiss on your chest and starting to pump your cock.

Her hand is so soft, but her grip is very firm. She starts her handjob slowly, but in a few seconds she goes full throttle, bringing you close to the edge.

"F-fuck, so good. I won't last long, Sooyoung...", you moan.

"It's okay, where do you want to finish?", she asks with a huge smile on her face.

So many options: feet, tits, abs, thighs, face... "Face, y-yes I want on your face", you produce half a moan, almost going beyound the edge.

She gets beside Joohyun on the couch, bringing her left cheek to Joohyun's right cheek. Joohyun still remains silent.

You take your dick in your hand, furiously jerking to the sight of two women laying down on the couch in front of you.

"Give it to us, cum sweet boy; blow that fucking load on our gorgeous faces", she says, looking right into your eyes.

"Fuck, Sooyoung! Joohyun!", you scream their names...

The first streak of white goo lands on the bridge of Sooyoung's nose, and with a few splashes on her left eye, she shuts her eyes. The next one you aim at Joohyun, trying to mirror the same thing that you did to her friend, but on the right side of the face. The third streak lands on Sooyoung again, this time a little bit higher on her forehead and with a few drops on her bangs. The fourth streak is less powerful than the other three, so you aim it at Joohyun's ripe lips.

Fifth and sixth are landing between Sooyoung's right cheek and Joohyun's left cheek, adding to the mess that you already made.

After finishing all of this, you were going to peck your dick on their lips, but Sooyoung is already on it, taking your cock in her hand and putting the head in her mouth, sucking out the remaining cum from your shaft. This brings pleasing shivers to your whole body. Feeling the lack of strength in your legs, you collapse on the couch beside Sooyoung.

Tired but satisfied, you look at two gorgeous women covered in your cum.

Sooyoung scoops your load from her own face, immediately putting all of it in her mouth.

"Mmm, you are tasty, oppa", she says, licking her lips and giving you a cute, sexy wink.

After that, she does not waste time; she pounces at her unnie and starts to gather your cum from her face, licking her cheeks, lips, and nose bridge.

Eww, Sooyoung...", Joohyun finally says after being quiet for a while. "What the fuck? Stop that", she adds with a note of disgust in her voice.

Sooyoung ignores her unnie, finishing everything in a few seconds, and when she's done, she engages with Joohyun in a hot, passionate kiss, swapping all of the gathered cum into Joohyun's mouth.

To your surprise, she did not spit it out immediately; instead, she gulped it down, giving you a cute smile. "Fuck, that's hot", thought crosses your mind.

"Well, that was nice, oppa, but you better invite me to the party in the future", she said with a cute pout. "Next time, you better put that load inside of me", she adds once again, trailing her pussycat with her hand.

All of a sudden, the other girl jumps up from the couch. "you should leave", she says, catching you off guard.

Joohyun, but-", you were about to complain to her that it's late and that you are tired.

"NOW!" She interrupts you, raising her voice. She gathers your clothes from the floor and throws them at you, leading you to the door.

"I'll call you when I need you", she says, kicking you out of the room and slamming the door behind your back.

...

"What the fuck was that?", you say out loud. "Well, that was weird..."

You put your shirt and hoodie on and, with a sigh, head to the elevator...

**BZZ BZZ** new message notification on your phone. It's from Joohyun.

The message contained just a simple "thank you" and a cute picture of her and Sooyoung.

You smile, feeling relieved that she's not mad at you or something, and head home.

#bae joohyun #red velvet #red velvet irene #irene smut #red velvet smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #Irene

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Text

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.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x nun!reader #forbidden love #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you

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uncookedfeeler · 3 days

Text

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2??

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'.

______________________________________________________________

#itzy smut #itzy x reader #yuna smut #yuna x reader

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pucksandpower · 1 year

Note

Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense

Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves

Series Masterlist

When We Were Young

“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.

Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.

Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.

Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”

You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”

Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”

Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”

Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”

You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.

Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”

Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.

You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.

Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”

Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”

Oh Simple Thing

The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.

“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.

Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”

You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”

As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.

Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”

You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”

Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”

Prank or Be Pranked

“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.

Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”

You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”

Mark grins, “You’re on.”

As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”

Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”

Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”

“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.

Thanks for the Memories

Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”

You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”

Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”

Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”

Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”

Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”

You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”

Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”

Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”

Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”

Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones

Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”

Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”

Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”

You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”

Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"

Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”

You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”

Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”

Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”

Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”

Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”

You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”

Passing the Torch

Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”

He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”

Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”

Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”

He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”

“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”

Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”

The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.

Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”

Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”

Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”

Back to the Future

As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.

Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”

George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”

Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”

Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”

Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”

Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”

Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”

Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids

Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”

Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”

Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”

Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”

Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”

Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”

Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”

Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”

Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”

Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”

Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”

The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”

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cinnbar-bun · 8 months

Text

Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

———————————————————————

There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

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fatuismooches · 1 year

Text

a lesson in napping.

It was a beautiful day in Inazuma. The sun was shining brilliantly, not too hot either, just the perfect temperature, with a slight breeze to keep you cool. Perfect for doing nothing, best for relaxing and enjoying life. It was on days like these when your eyes began to droop much earlier than they should be. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. But Kabukimono was questioning why you were already slipping into the futon when it was so early into the day.

“[Name], what are you doing? Are you sick?” Kabukimono worried over your early retirement to bed.

“No, don’t worry, Kabukimono. I’m just going to sleep for a bit.”

“But… it’s not ‘bedtime’, yet, isn’t it?” You chuckled at his use of the new term you taught him.

“You’re right, it may not be bedtime… but it is naptime,” you replied, having to stifle a yawn, wanting nothing more than to just drag your lover under the sheets and just sleep already. “I’m feeling sleepy, so I’m just going to sleep for a little while. A nap,” you explained.

“Ah, ‘naptime’...” Kabukimono repeated. “So a lot of humans not only sleep during the night but during the day too?” The puppet was still learning about the concept of sleep. He did not need to sleep and found the idea of it fascinating. But before, when you left him to sleep by himself, you would be awoken by quiet sobs, and him curled into a ball. You wondered what he dreamed about that made him cry so much, but you never pushed for answers. But now that he lay on your chest whenever he dozed, it seemed that he was no longer plagued by those frightful dreams, at least not so frequently.

“Of course, Kabukimono,” you giggled. “Though most people here sleep during the night, there’s no set time on when a person should sleep. You can sleep whenever you want.” With that, you held your arms out, inviting him to come join you.

“Come here, my love. Why don’t you try it? Won’t you take a nap with me?” Immediately a smile grew on his face, happy to be invited to the activity. Kabukimono shyly slid under the blankets with you and then looked up at you with puppy eyes, hands close to his chest.

“Can you… can you hold me, please?” His cheeks grew to a faint red as he asked. The puppet loved affection but sometimes was scared to ask for it. He’d even get nervous while asking you to accompany him for simple things, leaning from foot to foot with hands behind his back. As if he thought you did not want to be in his presence.

Perhaps he had been rejected in the past, and that hurt his fragile heart.

But no matter, you were here to relieve all of his worries and make him feel wanted. You smiled in response and watched as Kabukimono’s face lit up. “Of course, dearest. Here, turn around,” the boy eagerly followed your instruction and softly giggled as his back pressed against your chest. He really loved being the little spoon.

You briefly thought back to the time when you first spooned him. It was a lovely experience, and he was a joy to hold. But you had felt playful at the time, and what better way to surprise him by tickling him? Your arms were in the best position for tickles too - snug around his middle.

Unfortunately, Kabukimono was not ticklish. The only thing you got out of it was a hot, embarrassed face while Kabukimono looked at you with a confused expression as to why your fingers were dancing around his tummy. It seemed like the puppet really didn’t have any weaknesses. At least not physical ones.

Quickly snapping out of that little memory, you took pleasure in the way Kabukimono was practically glowing in happiness. You wouldn’t have it any other way. It really felt like only the two of you existed in the world right now. Nothing else mattered.

“Good night, [Name]! Oh, I actually shouldn’t be saying that, right? Since it’s still daytime-” The puppet began to correct himself but you kissed him before he could continue, catching him off guard but he quickly reciprocated.

“How about ‘sweet dreams’?”

“Sweet dreams… I like that. Sweet dreams, [Name].”

“Sweet dreams to you as well, Kabukimono. Maybe we’ll have connected dreams, too.”

“Connected dreams? Is something like that even possible?”

“Sure is! Dreams are very, very powerful, love. Don’t forget that. Now hurry to dreamland, before we lose our sleepiness,” you finished, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. Kabukimono settled into the comfortable position once more at your words, comforted by the calm in and outs of your chest. His eyes fluttered shut, as his body succumbed to the surrounding warmth.

The deeply loved puppet soon drifted off, dreaming of a happy and beautiful future with you. You two even adopted a cat! It was a bit grumpy, but that was okay. It would come true, right? After all, if dreams were so powerful, they should become reality eventually.

Right?

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #wanderer fluff #kabukimono #wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin

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hateblackies · 3 months

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how could it be? the same man who vowed to eradicate every non-sorcerer, the man who hated your kind with a burning passion, had become utterly infatuated with you. he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it.

you were everything he hated: weak, helpless, oblivious, and dumb. most of all, a non-sorcerer. but you were gorgeous, he thought to himself. he could stare at you all day, yet he cursed himself at the same time for even feeling the slightest hint of attraction towards someone who should be a target.

geto let out a heavy sigh, realizing his attempts to rid himself of these thoughts seemed impossible. it was as if you plagued his mind. he thought maybe if he had his way with you, you would leave his thoughts alone for good.

he found himself staying in discreet places to watch you from afar, eradicating all curses that seemed to get too close to you to protect you. but for once, he allowed one to grasp onto you. just so he could watch you desperately come to his aid like the weak, foolish girl you were.

there you were, standing before him with a curse coiled around your waist. you winced in pain, trembling before him, your voice filled with stress. “please… i came to you because i figured only you could save me, geto-sama. i trust you.”

he was not surprised by the sudden visit. a smug smirk appeared on his face as he took in the sight of you, so vulnerable and helpless. a sense of satisfaction washed over him, knowing you looked up to him as some kind of savior or god.

geto threw his arms out, adjusting his large robes that swayed with every step as he analyzed the curse that had you in its grasp, humming in thought as he got close.

“stay still,” he said bluntly. with that, you felt the pain subside with what seemed like a simple movement of his hand and the sound of him swallowing something unknown to you. you opened your squinted eyes to see him brushing his hands off, a sour expression on his face.

you stood dumbfounded before the monk, unsure whether to break down in tears of joy or maintain your composure. you stuttered, rubbing your hand against the area where the curse had been attached.

geto took a sharp breath before straightening the creases in his robes and looking back at you to speak.

“humans like you don’t possess the ability to rid themselves of these curses. pity, isn’t it?” the monk said.

brought out of your moment of relief from the pain, you asked under your breath, “what do you mean?”

geto let out a small chuckle at your reaction, lazily throwing an arm over your shoulders as he walked you down the hallways of the echoing temple. “what i mean is, you people are the exact reason curses even exist in this world,” he said bluntly. “and yet, here you are, seeking my assistance. but that’s human nature, no? relying on those in higher power when they’re in need.” in these words, his voice softened a bit, almost as if he was sympathizing with you. “the least you can do is thank me, dear, after all, i just saved your life.”

you batted your lashes before looking up at him pressed beside you, his eyes fixed on yours intensely the whole time, the smug expression never leaving his features. you felt your face heat up and looked back down at the floor. “s-surely just a thank you wouldn’t suffice for what you have done for me,” you said shyly.

“ah, what are you implying? that you pay me compensation? impossible!” his free hand shot up, waving dismissively at you, his eyes squinted half-shut as a faux smile appeared on his face, his brows furrowed. “saving you poor non-shamans’ lives is my utmost duty, after all!” geto’s face almost immediately turned to one of anguish and despair, his tone filled with hopelessness, his fist clenched.

“but… i want to repay the kindness you have shown me. i’m in debt to you, aren’t i?” you countered, still not being able to look up at him towering over you.

geto’s expression turned blank a bit too quickly after your statement. he let out a low hum, taking a moment to think before looking back down at you. “well, you’re not wrong about that.” his response was blunt, leaving it for you to finish his thought.

suguru geto wasn’t the sympathetic type. he had never been so patient with a non-sorcerer before, which explained the smears of blood that splattered the walls and the disfigured body of a man whom he had killed for being a measly ¥170 yen off.

a moment of silence hung in the air. his arm extended to the side, bringing his oversized sleeves up enough to check the time displayed on his watch.

“perhaps… i repay you another way?” you suggested, your voice convincing enough, although faint and subdued.

were you trying to seduce him? he would never allow a filthy non-shaman to do such a thing, so why did he like the way it sounded coming from you?

he contemplated your proposal while he shifted to face you completely. his eyes traveled down your body, lingering a little longer on the exposed areas of your skin. “and what exactly are you suggesting?”

your eyebrows lowered at the sight of the large bulge beneath his heavy attire as he sat at the edge of the mattress, his arms supporting his weight as you knelt before him.

geto’s expression was stoic, but his body told a different story. his muscles tensed a bit as you wrapped a gentle hand around the base of his clothed cock. he took it upon himself to undo the okesa meticulously that fell to the floor in a crumpled mess, his cock springing up free at the discarding of his boxers.

your eyes widened at the sight. so thick and girthy, standing tall in front of your eyes. before you could begin anything, he muttered under his breath, “taking our sweet time, hm?” his hands quickly unbuttoned the shirt underneath the okesa, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. he tried to remain composed, but his impatience was clear.

his composure started to falter slightly, lips parted as he looked down at you, his eyes darkened with what seemed like heightening desire. his large hand made its way onto the top of your head, pushing you down without much warning, gagging you immediately, earning a pout from you.

“i know you can do it, pretty girl,” he said, a reassurance you could take all of him. you began to bob your head slowly, tongue dragging along his length, lips sucking softly at his tip, before allowing your head to fall slowly, taking all his length. geto’s attempts at stifling a moan came in vain, the sounds of pleasure leaving his lips like a song. you felt a sticky dampness collecting at your panties the longer this dragged on. geto felt a sense of guilt and disdain at the thought he was allowing a non-sorcerer to pleasure him, but your mouth felt so good, he got lost in it all.

geto’s head leaned back over his broad shoulders, in an attempt to hide how flushed he was getting. sweat beginning to collect at his bangs, he ran a hand through his long, silky hair. his whole body tensed, hands gripping the sheets, causing his veins to become more prominent through his forearms and hands.

a loud grunt escaped from his lips, thighs flexing as your pace quickened, lewd sounds of wet squelching filling the air. it was getting increasingly difficult to remain composed.

“don’t… push it,” he managed to grit out through clenched teeth, the muscles in his arm tensing as he attempted to steady his breathing. the feeling of your mouth was driving him insane, and it was becoming more and more obvious. his dark, heavy-lidded eyes were fixed on you. the sweet sounds of your muffled whimpers, your eyes glistening with tears threatening to spill down, your lips puffy as your mouth engulfed his red, swollen cock.

geto let out a small, shaky breath before the feeling of a gooey substance filled your mouth, and a low, guttural groan escaped geto’s lips as you halted your movements. he tilted his head back once more, his hair messy and stuck to his skin. his cum, white and sticky, coated his tip like some kind of glaze, dripping down his softening length slowly.

the two of you stayed in silence for some time, except for the sounds of your labored breathing lingering.

“geto-sama… my debt?” you finally whispered beneath your breath.

suguru, still attempting to gain back some semblance of composure, replied gravelly, “hm, i’ll dismiss you of compensation just this time,”

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cynarisgayass · 3 months

Text

𓍊𓋼~Maid for eachother~𓋼𓍊

Type: Oneshot

Description: Welp, I already wrote some of this and then Tumblr posted it without my consent so...here's it again. T-T Maid oneshot, cause I can and all that. Smut.

Rating: Explicit

Reader: GN, Afab, Maid, wears a dress

Featuring: Arlecchino

Warnings: Sir/master/pet/dear, biting, knee riding, SMUT

Arlecchino:

"Miss-"

"Sir."

You stood up straighter, feeling heat run through your body and flood your cheeks, a reaction that wasn't common when you normally met masters. "My apologies...sir. Is there anything you need from me?"

"Currently...I suppose you could neaten the files on my desk. Some have fallen to the floor and I simply don't have the need to pick them up myself." She tilted her head, resting it on her hand as she gestures to the stack of papers...right next to her. The ones on the ground mere inches from touching her.

You gave a small nod in agreement and slowly made your way over to her. The air felt stiffer the closer you got and despite not directly looking at her...you could tell she was watching you closely, judging your very existence.

With ease you neatened the stack of files on her desk and kneeled down to fetch the ones on the floor, trying desperately not to make eye contact or touch her. Just as you were about to stand she moved, her sharp nails softly scraping against the bottom of your chin as she made you look up at her.

It felt so intimidating that you almost forgot how to breath, "Sir-"

"Tell me, what exactly are your jobs limitations? What counts as a need hmm?"

You gulped as you thought about your answer. The limitations were pretty much up to you, as a maid your job was simple...please your master. "I believe sir, that as long as I'm assisting in making your life easier and pleasing you to the best of my abilities that my job is being fulfilled...did you have another task for me?"

"Yes, yes I think I do. Could you sit in my lap dear?"

Your eyes widened at her request, even though you knew what this was leading to...it was still surprising to actually hear, but of course you wouldn't deny such a striking master, "Yes sir."

Her hands guided you onto her lap, her nails practically digging into the fabric of your maid attire. She seemed eager for more, "Ah, that's much better. Though I wouldn't mind if you...adjusted...yourself to get more comfortable."

Your heart skipped a beat as she moved her leg beneath you, her knee perfectly flush with your lower regions and your body seemingly under her control. A soft gasp escaped your lips as she moved your hips, helping you start while she watched your reactions. Her eye contact with you never broke, even as you began to rock against her, like she was hypnotized by you.

"What a good little pet you are~"

Moans of ecstasy trickled from your throat as you tried to answer her, stuttering out a rushed "Mnnn y-yes sir" while your wetness coated her pant leg. You let your head fall back and she took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss your collarbones. Her teeth grazed your skin and you went weak with joy as they dug into your partially exposed shoulder.

"Someone's getting worked up, aren't they~"

Her words tickled your ear as she nibbled on it, sending sparks through out you. Your mouth watered and you forced yourself down on her knee roughly, proving her point as you finished with a delightful mewl. Riding out that wonderful feeling while your insides shivered in excitement, yet still you weren't done. "S-sir, is there any-thing else?"

"There's plenty of work to be done~"

Okay ngl, this was supposed to have more people, but I got bored after having to redo the post again...so daddy Arlecchino is what we get. But hey, that's fine right :/

#𓍊damushroomguy𓍊 #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #arlecchino x you #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino

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mosaiclobster · 1 month

Text

Pecking Order (Farmer x Hayden)

I haven't posted fic on tumblr before, but people have been so unexpectedly lovely about this silly fic on AO3 so I thought I'd share it here too 🐔🐣

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

House chickens must wear many hats. To Henrietta’s relief, those hats were figurative; she never much cared for the indignities of clothing. Ribbons were another matter, especially ones bestowed on award podiums. She wore those with pride.

But Henrietta was more than a show chicken. She was a house chicken, and that meant she was a pest controller, a therapist, a taskmaster. A friend.

Well, not a friend to all. Hayden was her person, and she didn’t see much need for the rest of them. At least Ryis had a healthy admiration for birds - she let him pet her, on occasion.

The others were hopeless. Balor, Valen, and Errol gave her a wide berth, which was respectful, but none of them ever bothered to bring her treats. Celine did, but she was too nervous to feed Henrietta by hand now.

She hadn’t meant to peck the girl. It was a simple misunderstanding, one a flattened palm would’ve solved.

March was the worst of all. He didn’t address her by name, only as “chicken.” When she pecked him, she meant it.

But then, there was this new person. “The Farmer.”

Henrietta considered the nickname an impertinence. Hayden was the farmer in Mistria. His people had worked this land for generations.

Henrietta Jubilation Featherbottom knew something about legacies. She was a part of the most award winning lineage to ever grace chickendom. She’d raised a whole brood of blue ribbon birds, and she had Hayden to thank for that. Any affront to his honor was an attack on her own good name.

Hayden didn’t seem to mind the other farmer, though. He even let the interloper join game night. He broke the news to her over a bowl of popcorn, as if it was only natural to include this fraud. “Used to be an adventurer before settling down here. Imagine the stories!”

An adventurer indeed. Sounded like a rootless, chickenless existence - more of a rogue than a farmer, if you asked her. When their new guest arrived, Henrietta clucked with all the derision she could muster.

In return, she received a handful of wild berries. Palm flat, and steady.

“Nice to meet you, Henrietta.”

Well mannered. That was a surprise.

Hayden gave Henrietta an encouraging pet. “Isn’t that thoughtful?”

She kept a wary eye on the stranger while she plucked and pecked at the ripened fruit. Hayden rubbed at the back of his neck - a nervous habit.

Why should he be nervous? Henrietta studied his kind face, the one she’d known since she broke out of her egg. He was blushing.

“Ah, she’s made a bit of a mess. Sorry about your hand.”

Henrietta trilled, indignant. She was a dainty eater. Juice stains were to be expected, and his embarrassment degraded them both.

The so-called farmer smiled at Hayden, and gave him a rakish wink. “Better berries than monster blood.”

The cheek! But Hayden seemed quite charmed - he hardly noticed their other guests arriving, and the color never quite left his face. Valen even asked if he was feverish.

Amusing jokes, exciting anecdotes, nice manners… by the end of the night, Henrietta had to concede that this new human was well socialized.

Over the next few weeks, a routine took shape. Sweetwater was the fastest route to the museum from the other farm. On the way, offerings were made: berries for Henrietta, and coffee for Hayden. Not every day, but close. Henrietta often joined them at the kitchen table - gossip was her secret joy, and there was plenty to go around. Apparently, Valen was spending an awful lot of time with that witch who ran the bathhouse.

Hayden took a sip of coffee. “Good for them. Life’s meant to be shared, isn’t it?” Henrietta watched his warm brown eyes widen. Hayden coughed, and set his coffee down so hard that it sent a spoon flying. The clatter ruffled Henreitta’s feathers, but she smoothed them for his sake. Poor Hayden was blushing enough already.

“That’s why ranching is so rewarding. I’m glad you decided to get a coop - how are the girls doing so far?”

“They’re great. Thanks for setting up the see-saw, it’s been a big hit.”

Henrietta had met the girls once, under Hayden’s watchful gaze. It was clear they needed a strong matriarch, but Hayden scooped her up before her beak could do its work.

That was alright. Henrietta could be patient - they’d be joining her flock soon enough.

After all, Henrietta was nothing if not perceptive. She knew a courtship when she saw one, even if it lacked the usual dropped wing and dizzying dance. The gifts, the fleeting touches, the lingering looks… honestly, she couldn’t understand what they were waiting for.

Once the leaves began to turn, Hayden confided in her. Not just her - Ryis and Valen were there too. They didn’t equal her in wisdom or tact, but such gatherings were good enrichment for humans. She listened politely, and cooed in agreement when Ryis stated the obvious: “Hayden, we know. Everyone knows. You’ve been attached at the hip all summer.”

More blushing. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Valen shrugged, and swirled her glass of wine. “What’s there to say? We all thought you were already dating.”

Hayden rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we aren’t. I don’t think so, anyway.”

They all laughed. Or clucked impishly, in Henrietta’s case. Once Ryis recovered, he put a gentle hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “You’d know. The next time you’re together, just speak from the heart. Trust me.”

The four of them were halfway through a fiendish jigsaw puzzle when Errol burst through the front door. Henrietta dropped the piece she was nibbling on and nearly fell off the table in shock - such an entrance!

The man’s face was as white as his beard. He looked absolutely stricken. “Please, come quickly. The mines -”

Henrietta trilled in alarm. Only their semi-retired adventurer would be so foolish. So brave.

The others charged off without her, leaving Henrietta sick with worry. She tore open a bag of premium treats, but the tasty morsels did little to soothe her.

Finally, Hayden returned with Valen and the intrepid patient. Henrietta was ready with a lecture about the dangers of monster hunting, but she received no promises of hanging up the blade. Just a pat on the head, and a crushed berry.

“As your doctor, I can’t advise you to hand feed livestock right now. You’re more prone to infection if she-”

“-she won’t. Here you go, Henrietta. I plucked this off a bush as they were dragging me out of the narrows.”

It was the nicest one she ever tasted.

Naturally, Henrietta was an accomplished nurse. She set to work, nestling at the patient’s feet on the couch while Valen gave Hayden instructions.

“This one has to be taken with food, twice a day. Something simple, like toast.”

Eggs and toast, surely. Henrietta began to doze.

When she awoke a while later, she wasn’t surprised to find another set of feet to warm. The two of them were laying in each other’s arms beneath her favorite checkered blanket.

They were mindful not to disturb her, but Henrietta allowed them their cooing and preening and kissing. Humans were such soft, silly creatures.

And now she had two to look after. Henrietta drifted back to sleep, and added another figurative hat to her collection: matchmaker.

#pov: chicken #farmer: undescribed #hayden: awooga #fields of mistria #fom hayden #fields of mistria fic #henrietta the chicken #henrietta fom

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acotarxreader · 5 months

Text

Shadow and Flame pt.5

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, YN reopens a wound but no heavy description, tooth aching sweetness

A/N: Part 5! Ah! I absolutely quick fired (hehe) this one. I really enjoyed writing the series for you, it gave me back the joy of writing and hope you love this final part! I have plenty more down the pipeline and hope you'll join me for the journey. Let me know what you think of this part, hope it lives up to your expectations!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

**************************

“So it’s settled, we’re going”

“Az, it's not that simple, we can’t just enter the Autumn Court uninvited-”

“Beron came here uninvited!” Azriel snapped back at Rhysand as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the brewing headache away. Cassian watched his two friends pace up and down Lucien’s destroyed study, the Emissary had gone for alcohol, lots of alcohol.

“If we want to get political-”

“Lets not-”

“If we want to get political, Beron was coming for a member of his court, as we have many times before-”

“-That's not good enough Rhys!”

“I’m thinking here!” Rhysand shouted back at Azriels heightened tone.

“Why don’t we just send Lucien, invitation in hand and he brings her back-”

“-I will not trust him with her welfare again Cass. I am going to the Autumn Court at dawn, I am going to get my mate back and I am fucking getting what I deserve!”

“You will go nowhere, I will not have you sacrificed for anyone” Azriel went to object to Rhysand as Lucien came in with jugs of whiskey, the colour still fighting to return to his face.

“Any progress?” Lucien questioned as he passed a jug to Cassian.

“No…actually Lucien I’m just going to get a glass for this” Azriel nodded before making a swift exit, leaving the jug on the desk next to his mate's life sentence. The room was still for a moment, the males left racking their brains before Cassain interrupted the silence with a very good question.

“Since when does Az need a glass to drink?” The three looked panicked amongst one another before darting out of the room, the Shadowsinger now well on his way to the Autumn Court, sending Rhysand shouting unrepeatable words.

****************************

You sat at the vanity in the doorless room, staring in the mirror at the Fae you didn't recognise anymore. You ran a finger over the wound the guard had given you, promptly reopening it to bleed. If you were to walk up the aisle tomorrow you would do it with the Court knowing all is not well. It stitched itself back together almost instantly, you didn’t even have control of your cells anymore. You sat there blankly staring until the sun crept over the forest, the day you spent so long running from had arrived.

Maids were winnowed in, all with bags of products to use on you. You sat stoically still as the maidens brushed your hair and applied layers of make-up, your father's doll. You moved like a seamstress model, standing as they pinned your dress around you, crimson and white silk flowed down you. The happiest day of your life was the day you wanted to die the most. You let it all happen around you, unable to bring any element of energy to fight to your soul.

The wall opposite to the tall windows seemingly peeled away from itself, a door reappearing in the fine wallpaper. Your father in his finery entered, the staff immediately making themselves scarce.

“Come YN, your future awaits” he stretched out his arm and the shell you had become took hold of him, gliding alongside him through the hallways. He stopped outside tall decadent doors, glaring at a nearby guard to open them. The room was like a hollowed-out church, an altar with no pews for guests, no semblance of a place where people would come to rejoice. Standing at the top of the narrow aisle where your funeral march would take place was a broad and brutish male, decked out in his Court’s colours. You walked up the passageway, your father's hand crushingly over yours.

“YN Vanserra, I am pleased to make your acquaintance” your father released you with almost a jolt towards your groom. Beron moved to stand between you both, the officiant of the event.

The General's hand reached before snatching yours with force and bringing his lips to your fingers, kissing them. You felt you were going to pass out, the air struggling to oxygenate your lungs, it was thick, thick like smoke. Thick like shadows.

“YN!” you whipped around to find Azriel striding up the aisle, Truth Teller angled at your groom. You felt awash with emotions, you moved from your highest high at seeing him to the lowest of lows as you realised your father's lure had worked.

“Az stop!” you shouted, your throat hoarse from last night. You glanced between Azriel, the General and your Father, the latter's face twisting into pure excitement.

“Az-Az I don’t love you, leave, I’m marrying the General” you forced the lies out of your mouth like bile. Azriels face seemed hollow, lowering his blade back to his side at your last ditch effort to have Azriel escape.

“Y-N you don’t mean that, you can’t mean that,” he said it so small it shattered your heart all over again, you forced your eyes off the Spymaster, glancing at your groom's shoes. The sound of your father clapping so sickly slow hauled your attention back to him.

“Oh YN, there’s my cruel daughter, shattering a male heart before I shatter his bones” his venomous laugh felt like blades on your skin. Azriel went to react, a tendril of fire stretching across the room to snatch Truth Teller from his hands, throwing it to the feet of the General. His wings splayed ready to fight for his life until the tendrils clawed him to the ground and rolled him in crushing pressure. Azriels face began to turn purple under the coercion as you moved to run to his side, the cold callus hands of the General snatching you back by the wrist.

“I am owed a bride!” He seethed at you, the sound of your wrist joint crushing in his hands. In one swift movement you swung for the ground, snatching Truth Teller and slicing through the bone of his hand. The General roared, his blood shooting outwards at the release of the pressure from the vessels, his feet went from beneath him in dizzying blood loss, collapsing to the floor.

“Azriel!” you ran to him screaming as he writhed in pain.

“YN, you're ruining your pretty dress” a corkscrew of Beron’s flames leapt at you as he laughed maniacally, singeing your dress.

You stood in front of Azriel, protecting him from your fathers advances, the room swelling with flames. Beron held the flames around Azriel, squeezing his fist, wrapping the flame tighter around the Shadowsinger, his other hand sending a dart of almost lava towards you. You raised your bracleted wrists, the heat hitting the rings of metal and water dead on. You almost screamed as the water within the casing began to sizzle and steam, it evaporating under the heat of your fathers raging flame. The shackles metal dripped to the floor, freeing you as you threw Truth Teller with precision to land right through your fathers shoulder, hanging his arm by a thread from the joints. Beron bellowed at the pain, the hand controlling the Azriels choking flame gravely injured, releasing the flame from around a scorched spymaster.

You dove for him, his skin greying at the feeling of the release of insurmountable pain. You called for any scrap of power, grabbing Azriel by a scorched hand. You went to winnow through the small flame you could call to your side as Beron pulled Truth Teller from his arm, hurling it towards you. Truth-Teller sailed with its unshakable precision straight towards your back as you hunched to pull Azriel from the ground.

“YN!” Azriel groaned, using his debilitated strength to stretch his wing around you, for shielding as the blade pierced through a crucial spine of his wing, sticking through the otherside, showering you in Azriels blood.

You screeched at the feeling of the warm thick blood before pulling Azriel into the flame with you. Your power was weakened after months of it being smothered as you tugged Azriel through the warmth of your own flame. You crashed out on the edge of Forest House’s borders, too weak to winnow the both of you a greater distance.

“Az, I can’t- I can’t bring us further!” you cried, trying to support his weight, Forest House alarms blaring in the background.

“YN please, go, run, I don’t want to survive if it means I have to live in a world where you don’t love me” he winced out, arm around his abdomen trying to keep his burned skin together. The sound of mobilised guards shuddered the earth behind you both.

“Azriel, stop, I do, I do love you, you’re-you’re- my mate!” you cried, falling to the ground under your weakened legs and Azriel’s withering body. You reached and kissed him, a silent agreement that you would rather die together than live without one another, the voices of Autumn Court guards growing in volume.

“Are we interrupting something?” The both of you had your eyes shooting towards Cassian's voice, Lucien and Rhysand in tow.

“Azriel, I swear to the Gods, you are so grounded when we get home!”

“Bit of insensitive timing there Rhysand '' Lucien glanced towards Azriels almost dissolving right wing, blood flowing steadily from him as he greyed. Rhysand and Cassian pulled Azriel from the ground, winnowing him away as you went to Lucien to do the same.

"I promise I'll never let any of them near you again YN, you can trust me"

"I do Luc"

*************

The group crash landed into the Town House, the smell of singed skin and blood filling the living room instantly.

“Cassian, get Madja!” Rhysand ordered as they lowered Azriel to the sofa. You ran to his side again, copper eyes ablaze. You raised your hands to the bleeding wing, flames coming to your fingertips.

“I’m really sorry Az, this is going to hurt”

“What is Flam-FUCKING HELL” he roared as you pulled Truth Teller from his wing, sending more blood sprouting out like a faucet. Your hands went to cover the extensive puncture, your flames cauterising the wound, healing and stitching the wing back together. He fluttered it gently, its range of motion coming back. You then moved down his scorched body, the healing nature of your flame soothing his body back to health. Madja rushed in, bag of concoctions in hand, stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

“Cassian, we need to have a little discussion about the words, near death” she scolded him.

*************

Six months after your near wedding day you moved up through the garden, work bag in hand, humming to yourself.

“Hello Flame” Azriel sat on the back patio of the Town House, you beaming at his smile. You sat beside him on the bench, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“I have a gift for you” you reached into your satchel as Azriel closed his eyes, hands out-stretched.

“Open them” Azriels eye’s landed on the cremated cinnamon bun in his hands.

“Good with healing but bad with baking?” he laughed and you nudged him back.

“Fine, don’t take the mate offering” you went to take it back as you chuckled, he pulled it back hastily, a smile as wide as his face. He took a bite of the cremated pastry.

“At least you dont fuck like you cook”

“Really Az that's the first thing you say to me after I accept the bond” the two of you laughed loudly to one another. Azriel went to take another polite bite, yelping and putting a hand to the side of his jaw.

“God’s Flame, are there rocks in here-” he pulled the object that almost chipped his tooth from his mouth. A circle of gleaming obsidian shone in his hand.

“I fired it myself, it's made with fragments of Truth Teller that came from your wing that-that time. I hope you like it” Azriel couldn't find his words, eyes glued to the precious present. He wiped the pastry from it, instantly slipping it onto his ring finger where it would remain forevermore. His sweet eyes met yours before pulling a ring from his own jacket pocket. A crimson stone the colour of fire set on a shadow black band. Azriel took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger.

“If you look into the stone, some of my shadows stay happily inside. They will always be with you Flame and so will I” he swept the hair from your face and planted a tender kiss to your lips.

Symbols of the forever bond that lies between shadow and flame.

---------------------------------

Stay tuned!

Tag list: @sunshineangel-reads @skylarkalchemist @tele86 @saltedcoffeescotch @impossibelle @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @fightmedraco @st4r-girl-official @mp-littlebit @naliyahmaria @judig92 @st4r-girl-official @circe143 @minnieoo @honk4emoboyz @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @hanatsuki-hime @mariahoedt @paleidiot

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 1 month

Text

Fun in the Sun (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

Notes: Part Four! This was a requested idea by @fishwitthouteyes, who had a wonderful idea for this part of the Slice of Life series! I hope you don't mind that I added some extra parts ^^ Lots of fluff upcoming, ugh I love writing this fishy so MUCH

Also, this is NOT smut. I repeat, it's NOT smut. 100% fluff

Also I forgot to mention that this is an established relationship! I apologize for being neglectful :<

Credit for the divider to @cafekitsune

It's early in the morning, 8 AM in fact, Sebastian, you and Painter all in the living room. Sitting on the worn-out couch while nursing a mug of coffee in your hands, bringing it up every so often to your lips to take a quick sip, the hot beverage waking your senses a tiny bit. The sun shining brightly through the windows and sheer curtains, the rays of light giving the place a cozy feeling, watching as the light reveals the particles floating through the air. A certain glow that can't be achieved with simple lights.

It was a slow morning really. Sebastian was lying on the rug all curled up—like a cat—directly in the sunlight, eyes closed. You watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath he took, it seemed a lot slower than an average human, could be because of a bigger lung capacity. You feel a small ping of jealousy, oh how you wished to at least hold your breath for that long.

His angler lure twitches every so often, along with the fins on the side of his head. If you listened closely, you could hear a low rumbling-gurgling sort of purr coming from him. It . . . it kind of sounds like someone drowning for some reason.

Ah whatever, it's cute.

Painter seemed to be feeling the sleepy early morning vibes as well—despite being a computer—their screen dim as they lazily draw something on the tablet only to erase it out of frustration with a few sleepy grumbles.

Downing the rest of your coffee, you slammed the cup down onto the table, standing up from the couch with a sudden determination filling your veins; your fast movements and loud noise startling both Sebastian and Painter awake, Sebastian's tail hitting the coffee table with a loud *SMACK* as a yelp left Painter. You winced at the loud sound, especially at the loud 'FUCK' that Sebastian lets out, his hand immediately going over to smooth the part of his tail that was just hit.

"Sorry." You immediately say, a glare being all that returned your response, an apologetic smile on your lips. Shrugging it off, you walked over to your room, changing into more comfortable clothing suited for walking, grabbing a bag with some extra clothes and towels in it on your way out to the kitchen, packing plenty of snacks and drinks for the small outing.

Sebastian looks at you in curiosity when you came back into the living room with a different change of clothes and a bag, your hiking shoes in hand, "Where are you going?" He asks with a tilt of his head, his lure bobbing slightly with his movements, eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Correction," A grin tugs at the end of your lips, an air of excitement surrounding you, "-it's where we're going! Now get changed, we leave in 10 minutes."

~~~

The crunch of small twigs and the rustling of leaves filled the air as you walked along the well-worn trail, Painter held firmly in your hands as you avoided all the dips and rocks along the trail to the best of your ability. The sun peaked out from the trees, bringing light down to the forest floor, the life of the forest seemingly becoming livelier.

Sebastian trailed behind you, swiveling his head to take in his new surroundings with of look of amazement and curiosity, stopping every once in a while to observe something for a little longer before catching up to you. A smile stretches across your face when you risked a glance back at him, a feeling of joy buzzing throughout your blood as you continued forward.

"You never told us where we're going." Sebastian mutters, catching up to your side. In his hands was a Baby Blue Eye, bringing it up to his face to examine the delicate bright-blue petals closer. Eventually, he tucks the flower behind your ear, making sure it was secure before taking his hand back, face flushed a pretty blue. "It looks prettier on you . . "

A flush floods your face, averting your eyes away from him as a wobbly smile threatens to break out on your face, "Oh, thank you!" The beating of your heart was loud in your ears, you wouldn't be surprised if Sebastian hears it. Quickly trying to shake off the feeling, you answer his previous question, red still tinting your cheeks.

"We're uhm, we're going to a place I used to frequent before . . before that." It seems that he understood what you implied, nodding before looking forward, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you walked deeper and deeper into the woods, sun slowly climbing up higher and higher in the sky.

The sound of rushing water could be heard, getting closer and closer the more you walked, your pace slightly increasing in excitement once you saw the familiar tree you used to climb came into sight. Finally coming to the end of the path, a massive grin now present when a large waterfall greeted the three of you. It still looks the same as it did before you left; moss-covered rocks of all sizes scattered around, plants still flourishing as they glowed vibrantly—colors of all sorts dotting here and there, trees towering over the whole entire area as they swayed gently to the breeze, frothy white water gushing towards the lake below surrounded by a shore of gravel and sand.

It's good to come back to this place.

Carefully placing Painter down on a rock without moss and away from the water, you quickly stripped yourself of the clothes you were wearing. Sebastian sputters, looking away hurridely as the blue flush from before comes back in full force, "What are you DOING?!" A look of confusion overcomes your features at his sudden outburst—taking off your shoes and socks, putting them in the bag you brought—before a look of realization washes over you, a teasing smirk now present.

"I have swimwear on, dummy~" Hesitantly, he looks back at you, seeing that you were indeed in swimwear. Embarrassment floods his body once again, a scowl overcoming his features. "I didn't know you had swimwear underneath!" Crossing his arm, he grumbles out a, ". . at least warn me next time." You couldn't help a small snort slipping past your lips, walking over to the grumpy fish, cupping his face once you got close enough.

"Sorry, sorry-" Standing on the tips of your toes, you gave a small peck to his chin as a way of apologizing for the small misunderstanding, giving him a big smile when you moved away. The fins on the sides of his head twitch at the gesture, his features softening just a fraction. He looks at you for a few seconds more, expression unreadable, before grabbing you with all three of his arms. A yelp slips out from you only for it to be interrupted as his lips meet yours for a proper kiss.

Shock fills your senses at what just happened, before smiling into the kiss, eyes fluttering close as you let your hands caress his cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach. It's not everyday that Sebastian decides to lead, so you'll savor this.

"AHEM." Or maybe not. Quickly breaking away from the kiss, you both look over to the AI still sat upon the rock, unimpressed look on their screen. You felt a little bit of embarrassment forgetting that Painter was there, but you couldn't help the chuckles that left your mouth, sheepish smile on your lips.

"Sorry, Paints."

"You seem to be saying that word an awful lot today, aren't you?"

"Oh shush! Put me down!"

A low chuckle leaves him as he places you back on the gravel-sand floor, playfully sticking your tongue in his direction as you walked over to the water.

You know the water will be cold, it always was whenever you came here, so without hesitation you took a running start—jumping straight in. For a few seconds, you were surrounded by cold water, prying your eyes open as you observed your surroundings. Everything seemed so peacefully quiet—save for the silent roaring of the crashing water—flickers of sun gave way to the greenery at the bottom of the lake as they gently swayed to the soft current, rocks big and small wedged into the wet earth, a few fishes swimming past you only to flee once you moved.

Breaking the surface, you took a deep breath of needed air, letting out a laugh of joy as you float in the water. Swiveling to face where Sebastian was—about to call him over to join you—only to stop short in confusion when you didn't see him there, only his shirt on the ground and Painter, who had a look of mischievousness when he saw your face of bewilderment.

"Wait, wher-?" A shriek interrupts your sentence when you were lifted up from the water, looking down only to meet those smug fluorescent eyes you've grown to love as he sets you atop his bare shoulders, looking very pleased at what he done.

"Sebastian!"

"Hehe, sorry sweetheart~" Oh he so wasn't sorry.

~~~

After several hours spent within the water, the two of you finally decided to take a break, the sun now high in the sky as it shined down on the two of you. Painter was now atop a towel you brought along in the shade, peacefully drawing with a look of content on their screen.

Not too far away from them, you laid stretched out on Sebastian's tail directly in the sun, the light feeling great on your skin after being in the cold water for so long. Drops of water still littered the both of you, mostly on you since they seemed to literally fall off Sebastian quite quickly after you left the water.

Watching the clouds pass by, you munched on a few snacks that you brought with you—offering Sebastian some every now and then, who happily munch on them. The man seemed to preen in the warmth of the light provided, that same purr he made earlier in the morning coming back full force, you could practically feel them.

Though, it does make sense that he might like sunbathing, since he's quite cold. Like, very cold. It doesn't seem to bother him much, though.

"You really remind me of a cat." You tease, popping a chip into your mouth as you continue watching the clouds high above, watching how some of them began to take on shapes. Hey that one looks like a fish.

"A cat?" He mumbled out, cracking his eyes open a fraction to look at you, a bemused smile on his face. He looks so handsome when he smiles, his hair framing his face perfectly, eyes gleaming with joy.

"Yeah, you purr like one, sometimes you act like one too." Another tease, offering him another chip before continuing, "Grumpy but always looking for affection."

"I'm not grumpy."

"Uh-huh, sure gramps. Let's get you back to bed."

"Oh you are just begging to be thrown into the water, aren't you?"

"Nooooo?"

"Mm, not convincing enough."

"WAIT WAIT WAI-!!"

Last Part, Next Part

#sebastian solace pressure #pressure sebastian #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace #pressure roblox #roblox #this is literally the only thing keeping me sane at this point #traumatized fish man experiencing slice of life things #because he deserves it #ughhh I love him so MUCHHHHH #little fishy man #slice of life pressure ☀︎

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sorceresssundries · 4 months

Text

The Stars of Simril

Pairing: Gale x Tav (gn)

Summary: Gale and Tav sit together on the night of Simril, stargazing and storytelling. SFW.

Find it on AO3

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This was all @alpydk's beautiful idea!! All I did was try and breathe a little life into it. I hope you like it.

'Simril was chiefly celebrated after dark, when the stars were visible across the sky. Celebrants located stars associated with their own births, or with their ancestors. Those without a lucky star could purchase star maps from merchants to help divine which belonged to them, based on when and where they were born. Cloudy weather was considered especially favorable on Simril, as finding one's star on an overcast sky was viewed as a blessing from Tymora. Simril was celebrated outside, with people trying to stay awake the entire night gathered around bonfires with plenty of music, food, and warm drinks.'

Gale Dekarios sat atop an old, abandoned rooftop underneath an obscured night sky and thought of his mother. Back home in Waterdeep, the city would be alive with laughter and music, the streets would be filled with the chiming joy of children energised by the thrill of the nightlong festival of Simril. They would eat sweets, dance to music and no doubt be fast asleep in the arms of relieved parents before dawn broke. But, for a little while, bedtime was a burden for tomorrow and tonight was for finding stars and receiving blessings.

Ever since Gale was a boy, he and his mother had their own cherished tradition. The stakes were simple but high - the first to spot a Dekarios star would earn a silver shard, to be cast into the harbour waters with a wish. Gale's mother had always assured him that wishes made under the family's lucky star on the night of Simril were destined to come true. Gale would win every year, and it was only now he was alone, he realised it was because she always let him. It pained Gale to think that, year after year, he had wished for new magic, power, or knowledge. All he wished for now was the warm familiarity of home.

From down here, the vast expanse of space appeared serene and tranquil. It was almost impossible to believe it held a symphony of life echoing through the planes. Perhaps, he pondered, there existed another soul on a distant world, beneath another clouded sky, gazing upward and thinking of their mother. He hoped so. It made him feel a little less alone.

“Care for some company?” Gale turned to see Tav at the top of the ladder, clutching a bottle of wine and two glasses. He should have known they would find his hiding spot. He supposed taking a blanket up to an abandoned rooftop in the wilderness wasn’t exactly subtle. He was glad Tav found him.

“Only if it’s yours” he said with a smile, and turned his face back towards the sky.

“You’ve picked a poor night for stargazing” Tav placed themselves on the blanket next to him, and their familiar, comforting woodsy scent wrapped round him and reminded him of the giant bonfires which would send smoke up to the star-speckled Waterdhavian sky.

“Ah, that is where you are wrong.” He looked at Tav with a glint of magic in the warmth of his eyes. “A cloudy sky is a good omen on the night of Simril. If you manage to find your star when the sky is overcast, you are granted a blessing from Tymora. The lady of luck herself.”

“Your star?” Tav laughed but was not surprised. If anyone was to have ownership of a star, it would be Gale.

“Every resident of Waterdeep has a star associated with them. Chosen based on birth and ancestry. Mine is up there, somewhere.” His voice sounded wistful, and Tav knew he was aching for his home. They didn’t say anything, just joined him in his silence and waited for him to continue.

“Some years, the sky was so clear and stars so bright you could practically breathe them in. As a child, I would spend the whole evening with moon-filled eyes and lungs full of stardust. I would stay up all night and watch my star, thinking it belonged to me.” Tav thought they saw a shimmer in his eyes, but it was quickly blinked away. “How odd, to think of the naiveties we grow out of; to think there was a whole person fighting through sleep to hang his small childlike hopes on a star that was never his.”

Tav let the moment sit, and considered their own past. “I wish I had a star” they whispered with soft longing.

“Well then, come on!" Gale rose to his feet, extending a hand to lift Tav up beside him. With a graceful sweep of his hand and a whispered incantation, he commanded the sky to transform, shedding its veil to reveal a pristine expanse of stars shimmering above them. Though they remained on their rooftop, it felt as though the heavens had opened up just to grant them a few hours of unobstructed wonder. Gale's voice was a soft murmur as he turned to Tav, excitement flashing in his eyes. "Let's find you a star."

“Isn’t this cheating?” Tav laughed “I thought part of the custom was to find your lucky star in spite of the clouds?’

“Let’s make our own luck shall we?”

Positioned behind Tav, Gale gently placed a hand on their waist, the warmth of his touch grounding them as they both gazed up at the celestial display. With his free hand, he began to trace a path among the twinkling lights, pointing out constellations that clustered together like families. He explained the stories behind them with the bright, clear confidence of someone who knew them by heart. He painted the night sky with the vibrant hues of mythology and wonder.

He spoke of Belnimbra's Belt, a constellation of five stars named for the legend of the first human female to have been turned into a swanmay. He recounted how she was relentlessly pursued by Lathander, God of the rising Dawn.

His hand swept across the Galleon Nebula, and his arm tightened around Tav’s waist as he spoke with soft reverie about how it is two million miles long and resembles a celestial ship forever destined to row itself across the sea of night.

He told of the tragedy of Cassima, a maiden who was accused of evil witchcraft and burned at the stake. Selûne took pity on her, and transformed Cassima into a phoenix to rise in glory and join her in the heavens. Her star still flames bright in defiance of those who condemned her.

After he finished, he ran his hand along Tav’s bare arm and lifted their hand with his own to point out unmentioned stars.

“Pick one, and it’s yours” His voice was a delicate promise. “In hundreds of years time, lovestruck fools will tell your heroic story under a cloudy, Simril sky to enchant their beloved, and the other stars will flicker with envy.”

Tav blushed and nudged him playfully. “I’m no hero, wizard. Just a lost soul”. The sky, which to Gale was a memorised book of well-loved stories in a familiar language, was to Tav nothing more than a blank canvas of light and mirrors, blinking their own loneliness back at them. Tav knew as little of the stars as they did their own past.

“I don’t know anything about my birth or my ancestors, or even the stars. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Well, then it’s lucky you’re with an astronomical expert.” He pointed their entwined hands at a small, clear light a little way apart from the larger groups. The slightly brighter of two stars so close they almost looked like they were touching.

“What about that one?” Gale was holding Tav so tightly now it could not be described as anything other than an embrace. Tav could feel the steady rise-and-fall of his chest against their back, and the rhythm of it calmed their dancing heart.

“I like that one, what’s it called?”

“Not all of them have a name yet, that one is unclaimed. A clean slate. All yours.” his thumb stroked Tav’s wrist as he brought their arm back down, and he wrapped himself around them fully. “Of course, you will have to be ok with sharing a little bit of the night sky” Tav thought they felt a soft kiss against their hair. “I picked the one right next to mine.”

Tav didn’t say anything, but Gale felt a warm tear fall against the skin of his arm. They stayed there for a while, stargazing, until the dull ache of tiredness started to crack through Gale’s illusion. Soon it would be the end of Simril, and the start of a new day.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your lucky blessing” said Tav as they descended the ladder.

“That’s ok.” He offered with the warmth Tav’s company had re-ignited in him. “Who needs lady luck, when I have you looking out for me?”

“Speaking of which!...” Tav said with excitement. “I found a whole collection of enchanted rings buried in the village, so you should be set for a while..”

The two of them walked together back to camp, laughing and chatting with the ease of two people falling in love - their hands occasionally brushing against each other, mirroring two almost-touching stars which had just appeared, faint and winking, in the sky above them.

Back in Waterdeep, A tired Morena Dekarios stood at Deepwater harbour, looking up at the distant light of her son’s star. Not as bright as it had been, nor as bright as it would be. But still there, nonetheless - defiant and hopeful. She cast a silver shard into the moonlit water and wished that, somewhere, her son was safe and cared for.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav

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zeruby16 · 1 year

Text

what you did last summer- seok matthew

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: after your memorable summer with matthew, you thought you would never see him again. so what happens when taerae introduces you to him for a second time?

word count: 2.9 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom matthew; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); cursing; oral sex (receiving); fingering; penetration; unprotected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any

notes: i did not grammar check this, so please have mercy. i literally wrote this super fast because i had to get the idea fully out of my brain. hope you enjoy!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

when romance novels would state how time ‘froze’ and the only people in the room were themselves and the love interest, you called bullshit.

there was no way everyone would suddenly disappear. it would make you look stupid wouldn’t it?

you hoped it didn’t because when matthew walked into your family’s restaurant while you were hanging out with your friends, all you could see was him.

how was he here? how did he get here?

“earth to y/n,” taerae called, waving his hands in front of your face. you flinched and closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gain your composure.

“what happened?”

“i wanted to introduce you all to matthew,” taerae gestured towards your friend group.

unbeknownst to taerae, you already knew matthew.

you really knew him.

“a-ah, nice to meet you matthew. i’m y/n,” you bowed your head as you shook his hands.

the hands that touched all your weak spots over the summer. the hands you itched for since you left your grandmother’s hometown.

matthew failed to hide his little smirk, “nice to meet you too y/n.” his eyes immediately passed over yours as taerae introduced the rest of the friend group.

his smirk scared you. whenever matthew felt devious, he didn’t hide it. in fact, he thrived on torturing you.

the last time you saw matthew you had left him alone.

on his bed.

after he nearly fucked the soul out of you.

your summer with matthew in simple terms was dangerous.

you had been the perfect daughter anyone could ask for. you did whatever your parents told you to, you helped out your grandmother every summer, you went to church every sunday, you were an angel until you met him.

seok matthew worked at your grandmother’s local flower shop. he offered to help you pick flowers for your grandmother and you thanked him, promising to go to the shop again.

then, you went again and again and again. his presence was addicting. he showed interest in any little thing you mentioned, he helped your grandmother, his smile radiated joy, and he was anything you could ask for in a man.

the thing was whenever you two were alone, he ravished you. his kisses left marks, his touch made your skin burn with desire, you longed for him.

he made you break all your own rules, but you couldn’t help but go back to him every night.

time flew by and your final night with matthew came, but he didn’t know. as far as he knew, you were a new local who moved in with her grandmother.

you cried as you slept with him, held onto him knowing it was your last time seeing him, and left before the sun could rise, catching your flight in the morning.

it wasn’t until you landed back home and your grandmother messaged you about the ‘pretty boy’ that you realized you fell for him.

matthew allowed you to be the person you wanted to be. someone who could break the rules without consequences. someone who could live freely without the pressure on their shoulders.

the someone you were though, wasn’t the person your family knew and you had to leave that person with matthew along with your love for him.

you mourned him. you had lost the one person you genuinely loved and he probably hated you now, but you lived your life.

you started your senior year of college, caught up with taerae and your friends, and forgot about matthew.

at least, you tried.

“matthew used to live in the neighborhood until he moved away. he decided to come here for his last year of college,” taerae explained, while you brushed your thoughts of matthew away.

“where did you live, matthew?” woongki asked.

once matthew mentioned your grandmother’s village, taeare looked at you stunned.

“weren’t you there in the summer?” you tried to focus your gaze anywhere else other than matthew’s eyes.

unfortunately, your mother came delivering the treats you ordered.

“yes she was, she was helping her grandmother with the house. i’ve raised such a good daughter,” she patted your head as you shrugged.

matthew knew this side of you, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but he also knew a side of you your mother would never want to hear about.

“okay mom i think they get it,”

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i just want everyone to know how precious you are.”

she left as you looked down towards the floor in embarrassment.

“sorry about that,”

“it’s no worry y/n, i find it admirable how good you are to your parents,” matthew teased, knowing you would understand his underlying tone.

you started to feel flushed. matthew knew how to turn you into a stuttering mess. he had a way with words and your weakness was his sharp tongue.

thankfully, none of your friends questioned anything. the hangout was playing out greatly until you caught matthew’s eyes.

your friends were so distracted with their own conversation that they couldn’t see how he checked you out, stared you down, and smirked at your blushing figure.

your cheeks had to be beet red because when matthew stared at you with his bed eyes, you nearly fainted.

the room suddenly became hot and you needed new air to breathe, so you excused yourself to the ladies room, avoiding matthew’s eyes at any cost.

a part of you wanted him to follow, but you couldn’t let him.

you paced around the restroom, inhaling and exhaling, reminding yourself how no one knew, and how everything would be fine.

then, he knocked.

he opened the door and locked it behind him.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” you silently yelled.

“what am i doing? no, how are you doing after you stood me up?” he spat out.

“matt, i had to leave. i didn’t-”

“didn’t think it would hurt? well it did, like a bitch, so imagine my surprise when i see you hanging out with one of my oldest friends,”

“taeare never said anything about you,”

“he did about you. he mentioned how smart you were, how your parents raised you to be this angel, how pretty you were, and so much more. do you know what he left out?” matthew asked, backing you into the counter as his arms allowed no room for you to escape.

“what?” you breathed out.

he placed your hair behind your ears as he placed his mouth next to your ear.

“how much of a little slut you are for me,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

“but-”

“tell me y/n, do your parents really believe you’re a good girl?”

you couldn’t speak, so you decided to just nod.

“they don’t know about last summer do they?” you closed your eyes, trying to block him out.

“they don’t know how pretty your moans sound, or how gorgeous you look while taking me. they think you’re such this perfect angel, but that’s the last thing you are. isn’t it?” he asked, starting to caress every part of your body from your legs to your neck.

all you could do was deny and deny.

“i need words baby, you aren’t such a good girl are you?” his hands started to bunch up your dress, giving him easier access to your core.

“no,” you barely let out.

“what was that?”

“no!”

“no, what? i need you to be clear sweetheart,”

“no, i’m not a good girl sir,” your body trembled, aching for his touch.

“well then i think you deserve a punishment, yeah?” his face neared your lips and it took every ounce of your soul to not jump on him.

“yes sir,” you nodded and matthew didn’t let a second pass as his lips took yours ferociously.

you grabbed his arm full of muscle, squeezing it as your relief from the pleasure you felt.

he took your face roughly and continued to kiss you, inserting his tongue to assert his dominance.

“i missed this,” he said, taking a break to breathe until he smashed his lips into yours again. your body felt like putty under his and all you could do was touch him.

you reached for his clothed cock, wanting to feel him after going months without him, but couldn’t as one of his hands slapped yours away.

“silly girl, i told you, you’re being punished,” he took your hands and kept them down on the counter with his strong hold.

he continued to kiss you on your neck as he left some light bruises behind. his hands started to reach over your breasts as he toyed with them. he used the opening of the dress to lift it higher on your body, giving him access to your torso.

this was so wrong.

matthew was giving you everything you wanted and more, at your parents restaurant, in a restroom, with your friends waiting behind.

the thought of taking him publicly made you even more wet, but it made you feel dirty.

his hands gripped your thighs lifting you onto the counter behind you and inserting himself between your legs.

your body automatically hugged him as you kissed him again, silently begging him to do something. his fingers reached for your underwear and he hissed.

“you’re already wet for me sweetheart. you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

“ever since you left, you’ve been aching to be ruined, touched, fucked and only by me right?” he continued and all you could do was nod.

his motions started piling on and on. the light touches of your core, his kisses, the heat in between your body, your body was shivering at the pleasure of it all.

“i need you to answer,” he suddenly walked away from your body, halting all presence of his touch and causing you to whine.

“yes sir,” you immediately rushed, reaching out your arms wanting him in between them again.

“good girl, i think you deserve a reward,”

his hands suddenly pulled your underwear down, causing you to shiver as your core felt the cold air. he proceeded to lightly touch your clit, pressing on it at times. you grabbed his arm again, trying to steady yourself from his teasing.

his name suddenly became the only word you knew once he plunged a finger into you.

“matthew!” you looked to see his smirk.

if there was one thing matthew loved, it was to see your face contour in bliss. he was making a mess out of you and he enjoyed every second of it.

“i think my baby can take another? right?” you nodded, begging for his fingers, as he immediately inserted another.

his pace fastened as he started to hit your spot lightly, toying with your clit as he did so.

you were seeing stars. you were nearing your orgasm and matthew wasn’t even shirtless. you tried to snake your hands over his abs under his shirt until his free hand stopped you.

“i said no touching, remember?”

you whimpered as his fingers rammed into you mercilessly.

“please i want to feel you,”

“too bad baby, you lost those privileges.”

he stayed unphased as he held onto your hip, helping you reach your climax.

you breathed his name over and over, closing in on the feeling in your stomach.

then, he stopped.

“no!”

“you thought i would let you cum so easily?i thought you were smarter than that,” he tutted.

he chuckled at your state. the only thing supporting your body was your arms, the light mascara you had managed to run, and your whines never stopped.

it wasn’t until you looked deeply into his eyes that you realized he wasn’t done.

he squatted in front of you, his eyes meeting the juices of your pussy and smiled at you mischievously.

you had no time to process what was going on in his head as his tongue met your core.

“oh my fuck-”, you moaned.

your legs tried to close as his tongue teased your clit and his lips kissed your core like it was his last day on earth.

his hands held your legs wide open, only allowing for you to ruin his hair with your needy hands.

“matt, please,” you cried, nearing your orgasm once again. the feeling was stronger, you felt the need to release everything.

your moans and cries became louder, but matthew was satan himself. he pulled away from your core and wiped your juices off of his mouth, smiling contently while he was at it.

you whined again, looking at him pleadingly.

“what happened? my dumb slut can’t take her punishment,” he teased.

“i’ll be good i promise, please just fuck me,”

he tilted his head playfully and smiled, “and your parents think you’re this perfect angel.”

to your fulfillment, matthew started unzipping his pants and pulled down his boxers. his hard-on immediately sprung up and you leaned forward, trying to reach for his cock once again.

“are you sure?” matthew looked at you, concerned.

you left him last time because you didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak, but now you didn’t want him to leave. you weren’t going to let him go.

“yes, just yes.”

he teased your core with his tip and kissed you as he slowly inserted himself. you moaned in pain, his kisses and light caresses helping your body relax.

“you take me so well baby,” you tightened around him with the praise and he grunted.

“fuck, are you okay?”

“just move matthew,”

within seconds, he started thrusting into you slowly, but deeply, hitting your sweet spot every thrust.

“god i missed you,” he groaned as he started to speed up his thrusts.

“so did i,” you whimpered, his head against yours as you closed your eyes in ecstasy.

matthew took it as a sign to go faster, pounding his hips into yours.

you missed how wonderfully he fucked you, but you also missed matthew in general.

he was attentive and you felt like an open book in front of him. he was someone you trusted and you felt real around him. you weren’t pretending to be like the girl your parents wanted you to be, you were you.

he drove you crazy and he proved it more so when he lifted you off the counter and hugged your body, fucking you deeply.

“matt, fuck-”

“please,” you let out, his hips ramming into you as you cried his name.

he uses the wall as his support to help him pleasure you more, causing your vision to go blurry for a second.

it was all so much, but it was matthew and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“i love you,” he said, looking deeply at you as if you were a miracle.

“i love you too,” your moans became louder as you reached your orgasm for the third time.

matthew didn’t stop this time, instead he toyed with your bundle of nerves pushing you over the edge.

“matthew!” you nearly screamed, hoping no else heard.

you knew the restaurant inside and out. the walls had decent insulation, but you lost the ability to think when matthew walked in so it was the least of your worries.

“good girl, you’re such a good girl for me,” his thumb rubbed circles on your waist as he reached his climax, pulling out of you and cumming all over your belly.

he kept his hold on you afterward, letting you down carefully when you told him it was okay.

your legs were done for and putting your underwear back on was probably unsanitary as they were on the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were with him.

he wet some paper towels with warm water to help, chuckling at the stupidity of the idea until you thanked him for still caring for you. his body stilled and you realized the uncertainties he probably had.

“matt, i meant it when i said i love you. the only reason i left without a word was because i didn’t want to spoil what we had. i didn’t want to leave, but i needed to,” you caressed his cheeks, feeling them lift when he smiled lightly.

“i know you had your reasons, i just wished we tried. it seemed like you had such little faith in our love,”

“and i regret it, but who says we can’t try again,”

matthew’s face brightened, “really?”

“unless you’re going to leave town without telling me then i don’t see why not,” you joked.

he hugged you while lifting you up.

“wait, how are we going to tell taerae?” he suddenly wondered, you scratched your neck embarrassingly.

“well first i am going to pretend to leave by saying i don’t feel good because obviously,” you gestured towards the marks he left.

“i’m sorry love, i just had to let you know how much you mean to me,”

“anyways, tell them you had diarrhea or something, and i will delete the security footage of the hallway for my parent’s eyes,”

“we should still tell them though,” matthew mentioned, you sighed at the thought.

“y/n, i’m not going to just hook up and go on dates with you without your parents knowing,” he scolded.

“fine, just don’t mention a word about last summer,”

“as if, the only people who will ever know about those nights are you and i.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed! i'm trying to write once a week because i do love writing these, but sometimes my execution fumbles and with classes starting my thoughts jumble even more. thank you for reading though, i appreciate it!

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

#seok matthew #zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #seok matthew smut #seok matthew x reader

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