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#and is asked (in good faith) 'are you ever a woman?' and it says
katelynnwrites · 18 hours
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the prophecy | laura freigang
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word count: 686
warnings: again a for angst
summary: you're in love with your best friend but she's not in love with you. it's not in your prophecy to have a happy ending with her
a/n: the second installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series
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you knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.
but you never stood a chance against your best friend’s ocean coloured eyes, one of a kind personality and smile.
oh god her smile in particular. if her smile were to be the last thing you ever see, you would die a happy woman.
laura’s smiling at you now as she slides into her usual seat beside you, on the bus to the away game.
it makes your heart flutter in all sorts of ways.
‘want to finish the show we were watching? i resisted the temptation to finish the last few episodes on my own.’
‘yeah. thanks for waiting lau.’
‘anything for my best friend.’ she teases.
best friend. there they are again, two words that chip away at your heart every time she uses them in reference to you.
you try to grin so she doesn’t think anything is wrong.
the striker must believe you, like she has every time you pretended because she hands you one of her airpods and expectantly waits for you to connect them to your tablet so you can play the show.
swallowing hard, you do so and she leans her head against your shoulder.
strands of her blonde hair tickle your cheek as you watch the show together.
the bus ride is a couple of hours long and right as it ends, you two manage to finish your show.
‘that was good.’ laura hums in satisfaction.
‘it was.’ you agree.
the rest of your teammates are getting ready to get out of the bus now so german woman begins to get her things together too.
you pack up yours and you’re almost done when laura lets out a small ‘oh.’
‘what is it?’ you ask, glancing up at her.
‘i know we had plans to start another show on our watchlist this weekend but are you okay if we do that next weekend instead? i um, i have a date.'
the german woman blushes pink as she talks and you have to force yourself to keep meeting her eyes.
focusing entirely on making your voice level, you murmur, ‘sure. i hope it goes well.’
‘thanks! you’re the best.’ the striker brightly says.
you let her pass you, to get off the bus first just so you can have a short moment alone.
to compose yourself and desperately try to stop your heart from breaking.
it doesn’t and you find yourself metaphorically on your knees, fervently wishing that the prophecy would change. that for once, just once, someone would look at you and choose you.
someone who wants your company. not your money or your standing as a professional footballer.
just you. for you. let it once be you.
a greater woman wouldn’t beg and a lesser woman would’ve lost hope. but for laura you would keep looking to the sky, deluding yourself and begging.
you would beg her to be yours if you could.
but you can’t. and you’re so afraid that you have sealed your fate by falling in love with her. there’s no sign of soulmates and yet if she isn’t yours, who is?
a greater woman has faith but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait too long. you do not know how much longer you can keep waiting to meet yours.
would you even want your soulmate to be someone who isn’t laura?
being her best friend has given you the tiniest taste of what it is like to have her affection and her love.
though only for a fraction of a moment, like thinking you caught lightning in a bottle.
so it’s gone and all you can do is keep looking at the sky and saying please. hoping against hope that someone will change the prophecy and redo it so that you won’t be in love with someone who doesn’t return your feelings.
who do you have to speak to, to get it done?
because if your destiny is to be alone, while the woman you love goes on dates and maybe even gets married…you’re not sure you can survive it.
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moe-broey · 4 months
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Also Moe gender notes/lore:
It has a more masc leaning identity, and typically uses masculine language/titles but more like. For fun. Like the way you say "SIR." at a misbehaving cat. It will also call itself a man ESP if it's funny. Also I've been toying w it liking the terms "boyfriend"/"boytoy" for itself, which is a very funny combination w Alfonse (in my mind) preferring the term "partner" (broadly, but also esp for himself). So like, Moe calling Alfonse "My partner" and Alfonse, On Occasion, ESPP if the situation calls for it, calling Moe "My boyfriend" (still, partner is the preferred term across the board for both of them -- but if we need to clear up the air...)
BUT ALSO! There are at least, so far, Two cases where Moe prefers feminine titles/language!
One was initially a misunderstanding but it ultimately ended up preferring the term anyway, with "cleric" (one comic idea is to resolve this castle dialogue):
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LIBRA.... I WOULD NEVER .......... (Moe didn't realize "cleric" was a femme-gendered term, and had already been using it for itself for a while at this point.)
The other title is "seamstress"! That one is a case of Knowing the genderedness of it, but deciding to use it in a nonconforming way (which is eventually how "cleric" ended up). To me Moe uses these in the same vein as a drag queen, if that makes sense!
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goqmir · 3 months
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u ever notice how trans women arent allowed to be openly frustrated or angry about anything without getting an unreal amount of hatred sent at them. and god forbid someone "in good faith" responds to your venting with a half baked "solution" to your problem that if you dont perform for them youre obviously just so helpless and want to struggle-- because obviously to them transgender women love to play the victim (our struggles cant be real if they dont awknowledge them, and if they do awknowledge them theyre obviously not important or they can be fixed easily). cis people are allowed to be angry all the time. theyre allowed to be joyful too. if a trans woman is happy in her identity if she adores herself if shes feminine and loves pink and loves being trans thats "cringe" and "reddit" and obviously not how youre supposed to act. cis people are in love with their identities all the time and hate us when we are. we cant be the opposite either-- if we're sad instead of angry, they say we need to just pick ourselves up and stop bringing down the mood. if we aren't feminine, then they ask "why did you even transition at all?" if you aren't filled with joy every waking moment (which, again, they would hate you for), they say its because you're trans, and they hate you anyway. a lot of cis people (and a lot of trans people) dont want a trans woman to be angry like cis people are allowed to be, sad like they can be, happy, feminine, or masculine, or anything else-- its a catch 22. they hate you no matter what you do but especially if youre visible about it. so fuck em.
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vaspider · 8 months
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How are you a lesbian if you go by “he?” Lesbians are exclusively women
Assuming you are asking this in good faith - which doesn't make it appropriate, but we'll get to that in a minute:
1. No, lesbians are not exclusively women, and this has never been the case. A great deal of lesbian writing going back decades upon decades posits lesbian as a separate gender - certainly we are not nor have ever been seen by society at large as "proper and correct women."
1a. My gender is butch lesbian. The end.
2. Pronouns aren't gender. Also, see above.
2a. He/Him, They/Them and neopronouns as pronouns for butch lesbians (who consider themselves women or any other gender) has at least a hundred years of history behind it, as does butch lesbians referring to themselves as Husband or Daddy.
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2b. Have you read Stone Butch Blues? Like, ever? Leslie Feinberg (z''l) was not a woman. Zie made that very clear over decades.
3. And this is the most important, so I need you to listen very very closely:
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ACAB INCLUDES POLICING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDENTITIES.
I hope that clears things up for you, as other people's identities are not matters for debate or for you to police. I am setting a firm end to this conversation; I will not engage further with you on it. If you would like to request more information from someone on gender theory and lesbianism to clear up your very clearly lacking education, including me, ask about the theory and don't involve the other person's identity.
Once you've read Stone Butch Blues - which is free online by the terms of the author's last wishes - if you'd like to return and discuss the long history of gender variance and gender freedom within the lesbian community, you may do so. But - and I'm totally serious - I'm not talking with you about this again until you've read at least that one totally free book and killed the cop in your head that makes you think you can come into someone's inbox and ... do this.
Would you walk up to someone on the street and say this? If so, who raised you? If not, why do you think it's okay to do to someone online?
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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months
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Christian Woman
(König x Nun!Reader)
Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.
Part 1
You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 
You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 
It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.
Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.
“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.
Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.
His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?
You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 
“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 
He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 
You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.
You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.
He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 
This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 
He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.
You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.
So you meet him again. 
And again… And again. 
You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.
“I guess you could put it like that.”
He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 
He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 
The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 
“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”
“What’s ‘twerking’?”
It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 
It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 
Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.
A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.
You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 
And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.
You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.
You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.
König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 
They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.
You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.
Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.
He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 
König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 
Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 
You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 
It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.
Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.
You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.
"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.
"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.
"A… A what?"
She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.
When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.
Christ have mercy…
"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"
You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 
Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.
Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.
"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.
"Did you sleep with him…?"
"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."
Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.
"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"
"Convent," you correct.
"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."
“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”
“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”
"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"
"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."
You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.
"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.
"What?"
Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.
"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.
"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"
"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."
"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."
"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”
“Oh for God’s sake…”
“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”
You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.
“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”
“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.
“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”
“Yes, but–”
“Mmh. Deep voice?”
“Umm… It’s memorable?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.
You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 
You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.
Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 
"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"
The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.
"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"
"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."
"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.
Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...
"Yours now, is he?"
"No, that was… It just slipped."
"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"
"What?! No."
"You have," she insists with a widening smile.
"No. No, I–"
"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"
You feel your lips snap into a thin line.
Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 
If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 
"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 
Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.
"What does that have to do with anything…?" 
"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.
You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.
The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 
This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.
You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.
Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.
You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 
There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.
Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.
Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.
But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.
You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.
The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 
König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.
Because…
One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 
It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.
You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”
“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 
Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.
The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.
I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.
Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.
He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.
You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.
“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.
“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”
“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.
He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.
“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.
“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 
His voice is so wickedly gentle too.
You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 
“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…
“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”
It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.
“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.
“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 
You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…
“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.
“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…
“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.
“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.
“Are you… Are you leaving then?”
“Soon.”
Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.
You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.
This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 
“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.
“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”
“That would be nice.”
“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”
“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 
“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”
You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.
“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…
You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.
“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister. 
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txttletale · 4 months
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roadhogsbigbelly is doubling down. genuinely incredible (yes i am aware how deeply funny it is to start a serious post with that sentence. it is my one allotment of levity)
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oh okay you just assumed that "loliporn" was involved and something that i deserved to be associated with defending and accused of making "integral to the queer identity" because of stuff that the OP (who i cannot stress enough i never followed or talked to or knew in any fucking way!) did that got called out months after i made my addition?
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the rest of his post is just a very lengthy way of saying "umm if you didn't want to be called a pedophile because you were mean about stardew valley maybe you should be more careful about how you reblog from". yeah buddy im sure you apply that standard to yourself too huh. im sure you pull out your Bad Person detector every time you reblog a fucking post and beam OP with it. you literally screenshot my post about how as a trans women i get this standard uniquely applied to me and went "um its a good standard though. answer for the actions of every fucking person youve ever reblogged a post by".
and all this whole fucking schtick where he's like "ummmm im not calling you a pedophile :) i just assumed you thought 'loliporn was integral to the queer identity' based on source: i made it up and am going out of my way to repeatedly say you're agreeing with pedophiles and not being wary enough about pedophiles and that 99% of people who make the type of post im accusing you of making are pedophiles" is so fucking pathetic and if you fall for it you are a blatant transmisogynist like come the fuck on man.
i am no longer having a nice time on the computer, i am pretty fucking angry. and all this because he "doesnt have much skin in the game" but he doesn't like my stardew valley takes! yeah man real proportionate response.
not to mention the aside he makes to say 'wah wah someone told me to kill myself' amiguito do you have any fucking idea what my inbox has looked like since this entire transmisogynistic harassment campaign began a week ago? i delete those asks because i'm not into flaunting every piece of online abuse i get to make myself look like the victim in computer arguments but it has been constant and graphic! breaking news, women are people too, some of the most cutting-edge research suggests they might even have feelings!
"oh i censored her identity i dont know how she even found it" oh okay so you were anonymously pedojacketing me to your thousands of followers while vaguing about a post i made that had thousands of notes and using the same screenshot that an uncensored version of was passed around with thousands of notes as part of a transmisogynistic harassment campaign last fucking week?
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how could anyone possibly have guessed it was me! it's a real mystery man it was basically witness protection. "oh but i didn't know, i didn't know she was trans", maybe he'll also say he didn't know about the harassment campaign, hey fucker, maybe apply some of the constant scrutiny you're reserving for women who are mean about farming game and apply it to yourself and consider looking into these things before baselessly making pedo accusations against someone!
this transmisogynistic crybully shit is absolutely fucking insufferable and i am absolutely sick of it and anyone who buys into it. i'm done assuming good faith or ignorance. i am not going to be a good placid little bullying target and acquiesce to this vile shit. it's truly fucking incredible that a tme guy can be found out as an actual pedophile and guys like mr. belly can immediately jump into action to use this as an opportunity to denounce a trans woman who had one interaction with him ever that consisted of five minutes spent typing an addition to a post and hitting ''reblog''. & if you don't find that sickening then straight up you are not safe for trans women to be around.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.
Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.
It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.
Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.
It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.
Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?
The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.
One day you’ll be in love with me.
You could be a titled lady. 
I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.
I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.
But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?
We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other. 
In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.
We are trapped by convention and must marry another.
Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.
I am to be a bride, but whose? 
I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?
I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.
If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.
Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.
A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.
An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.
You will marry him and do your duty to your House.
You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.
Love? What does love have to do with marriage?
He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.
I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck. 
 So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods
I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone. 
I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.
A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.
Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.
The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.
Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.
Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.
Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.
Perhaps love is a minor madness.
It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.
Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.
Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.
All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.
A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.
Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.
In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.
I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.
I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.
The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.
Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.
From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.
You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.
You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.
Being together means our priorities are going to change.
Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.
I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.
It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.
They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.
That is a match made in a boardroom.
Once you are wed to another, you will forget me. 
I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in. 
I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.
How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.
Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.
Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.
You are being sold like a mare and do not care.
Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.
We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.
I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.
A marriage is simply an alliance.
All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company. 
Do your duty and give him sons.  That’s all men want.
I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated. 
You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.
I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.
Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.
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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months
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Mortal Kombat 1 Intro Dialogues
a/n: some slightly flirty dialogues for suggested characters from Mortal Kombat 1 (and 11), reader is a blood mage, adjacent to "Unpunishable"
Warnings: Suggestive Language, Obscure References, Poor Attempts at Comedy
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Shang Tsung
Shang Tsung: Liu Kang is squandering your potential.
Reader: I trust his judgement completely.
Shang Tsung: You were made for so much more.
...
Reader: You want me to make a deal with the Devil.
Shang Tsung: All I ask in return, is your soul.
Reader: It's too high a price!
...
Shang Tsung: I lay before you my eternal heart...
Reader: There is no love with you, only ownership.
Shang Tsung: I dearly love all of my possessions.
...
Reader: I must believe there's good even in the darkest corners of the world
Shang Tsung: Finding it in me might turn out to be a futile fight
Reader: I don't give up easily, Shang Tsung
...
Shang Tsung: Have you ever thought to say "stop"? "If you love me, you would stop?"
Reader: Not in a thousand years.
Shang Tsung: I see now, why we're destined for each other
...
Reader: The things you've been doing in your laboratories are vile
Shang Tsung: I've used the same magic, as the one coursing through your veins
Reader: Liar!
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Liu Kang
Liu Kang: Empress Sindel has approved your application to study Outworld's medicine.
Reader: I'm honored by her trust.
Liu Kang: You'll do a splendid job as Earthrealm's ambassador.
...
Reader: I fear the pull of darkness overpowering me.
Liu Kang: I will guide you, until your mind is at peace.
Reader: What if it never ends?
...
Liu Kang: In the previous timeline, you were my close friend and adversary.
Reader: And in this timeline?
Liu Kang: I'm inclined to say the same.
...
Reader: Doesn't it get lonely, being a God?
Liu Kang: I'm devoted to protecting Earthrealm and its people.
Reader: You didn't answer my question.
...
Liu Kang: Beware Shang Tsung's honeyed words.
Reader: You've said we were destined for each other in all timelines.
Liu Kang: And your union always leads to your suffering.
...
Reader: You knew I'd reject Shang Tsung's offer? Fight him every step of the way?
Liu Kang: I had faith, you would make the right choice
Reader: Honestly, do you have music playing in your head when you say garbage like that
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Johnny Cage
Johnny: Let me just say, there's no other place I would rather be, than right here with you right now.
Reader: I can change that very easily.
Johnny: Why so serious, sweet cheeks?
...
Reader: No, Johnny, I won't be playing in any of your movies, ever.
Johnny: Can I ask why?
Reader: Why I don't want the job that makes your brain explode?
...
Johnny: You might wanna reconsider your rendezvous with the Sorcerer.
Reader: Which one?
Johnny: Oh, you are a bad woman.
...
Reader: Don't be such a baby, it's just a scrap.
Johnny: And I need a hot nurse to patch it up.
Reader: Why do I even… You're impossible.
...
Johnny: You have experience with emotionally fragile men, right?
Reader: You're self-aware today.
Johnny: I was talking about Kung Lao...
...
Reader: Okay, Ninja Priest was actually kinda good.
Johnny: YES! I knew you had a thing for the clergy.
Reader: That's not what I... You're such an ass!
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Kung Lao
Reader: Do you think Liu Kang has destined us to become friends?
Kung Lao: Obviously, I'd never choose this for myself.
Reader: He could've made you less of twat...
...
Kung Lao: It's way too dangerous for you to travel Outworld alone.
Reader: I don't need a babysitter, Kung Lao.
Kung Lao: Prove it, then.
...
Reader: If you buy me dinner at Madame Bo's, I'll heal your arm.
Kung Lao: I see your time with Shang Tsung is rubbing off on you.
Reader: See, now I gotta hurt ya.
...
Kung Lao: How does it feel, being in the center of the Snake's attention.
Reader: Fuck you man, I didn't ask for this.
Kung Lao: Not good then.
...
Reader: Come on, I paid for dinner last time.
Kung Lao: I'll be happy to pay... Once you beat me.
Reader: You can be an ass sometimes, you know that?
...
Kung Lao: You know I only meant it as a joke, right?
Reader: Let me show you just how funny I think you are
Kung Lao: Bring it on, Nurse.
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Bi-Han
Reader: You betrayed everything your clan stood for.
Bi-Han: You have no moral high-ground here, Healer.
Reader: I don't need it.
...
Bi-Han: Join the Lin Kuei, and unleash your true power.
Reader: Not while they're under your command, traitor.
Bi-Han: Your pride will be your downfall.
...
Reader: I can feel your blood run cold through your body...
Bi-Han: It will boil while I destroy you.
Reader: You'll freeze to death, then.
...
Bi-Han: Your aversion to power is your greatest flaw.
Reader: Should I follow your lead, then, and betray all I love for a promise of greatness?
Bi-Han: Is it wrong to want more?
...
Reader: Maybe I can beat some sense into you…
Bi-Han: I will crush you, little girl.
Reader: Great, a quip about my height, so original.
...
Bi-Han: We meet again, Blood Mage.
Reader: I knew you couldn't stay away, Bi-Han.
Bi-Han: Let's see if your training has progressed.
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Erron Black
(am i the only one devastated he wasn't included in mk1?)
Erron: What's a pretty lookin' thing like you doin' in a place like this?
Reader: Holy shit, you even talk like a cowboy!
Erron: …Nevermind.
...
Reader: If I win, I get to wear the hat.
Erron: You'd look mighty fine in it, I'd wager.
Reader: Don't you pull your punches on me now, Black.
...
Erron: There's quite the price on your head, sweetheart.
Reader: And you'll do everything to collect it, right?
Erron: I could be persuaded against it, with the right motivation...
...
Reader: Do you flirt with all your targets?
Erron: Only pretty little ones, like you, girlie.
Reader: Well then, let's dance, Cowboy.
...
Erron: I wouldn't mind giving you a ride around town, little lady.
Reader: I'd rather beat you where you stand.
Erron: Be still, my beating heart.
...
Reader: I know who sent you.
Erron: Someone who's eager to get their hands back on you.
Reader: You can both keep them to yourself.
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celestiababie · 1 year
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Nice Guys Finish First- L.SM
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Pairings: Seokmin x fem! reader
Genre: Smut with plot, fluff, angsty bits
Warnings: cursing, seokmin is very insecure, mentions of shitty ex, dom/sub dynamics if you squit but overall no power dynamics, making out, seokmin is reallllly insecure, somewhat first times, oral (m rec, insinuated f rec), cum swallowing, praise, I think that's it? idk let me know
Word Count: 3.599k
Summary: After a first date with the sweetest man you've ever met, thanks to a mutual friend, you're more than willing to silence his doubts and show him how sexy he was to you.
A/N: I had so much fun writing this...this bss comeback made dk wreck me. This is mostly edited but my usual editing software I use was being a BITCH. I hope you guys enjoy this one and I would really appreciate feedback! Please don't be a silent reader!
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"I had a g-good, no, a great time tonight!"
The slight stutter in Seokmin's voice sent a wave of embarrassment down his spine. But he managed to keep the blindingly bright smile on his face as he gazed into your eyes. The urge to crawl into a hole was strong, but his desire to make a good final impression was stronger.
When his friend, Jeonghan, said there was a girl he befriended at work that would be perfect for him…he understandably had doubts.
Despite being single for more than a year now, Seokmin could admit that he wasn't ready for mingling. His tender heart had not yet healed from the messy breakup he faced and blamed himself for. Blinded by a pair of love goggles, it seemed as if everyone but him could see what a shitty, manipulative person his ex-girlfriend was.
Seokmin was far too trusting and kind-hearted to a woman who acted as if she could barely stand him and his silly albeit charming personality. He couldn't bring himself to move on even if her harsh, discouraging words ruined his already non-existent self-confidence.
He wasn't ready.
Until Jeonghan invited you to his housewarming party, deciding to go a step further at playing cupid and introduced the two of you with a mischievous smirk on his face, knowing that Seokmin would fall head over heels and vice versa after a conversation and some liquid courage in your system.
And his efforts paid off.
Seokmin was left in complete bewilderment when you asked him for his number at the end of the night. And in even more shock when you asked him out on a date after a week of texting back and forth.
Maybe he couldn't see how much of a catch he was, but you sure as hell did.
"I had a great time too, and thank you for walking me up to my apartment. It's sweet of you..."
You take a step closer to Seokmin, throwing your arms around his neck and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck as your eyes flicker down to his lips. You watch them part as his breath hitches, trying to keep calm even though your touch was making his heart race a mile a minute.
In his defense, it had been so long since a woman showed him affection in any capacity other than those who'd attempt to flirt with him, but he'd just brush off their gestures as being kind. But it would be hard to mistake your intentions with your eyes honed in on his lips, and your hands toying with his hair.
Seokmin swallowed hard, clearing his throat before speaking up in a hushed tone as if he was worried the walls of the hallway could listen.
"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to make sure you got in safe…and I didn't want to say goodbye yet," he finishes with a mumble, but you could hear him loud and clear.
His shy smile makes you bite your lip before you decide to take a leap of faith with your next set of words.
"Who said anything about saying goodbye? You could join me for a movie or something if you'd like," you whisper back.
You weren't one for inviting guys inside your place after a first date, definitely not with the intentions you had in mind. But, Seokmin's warm aura made you feel comfortable, and the compliments he gave during your date made you feel beautiful. He was nothing but a gentleman towards you tonight, and something about it was just downright sexy.
"A-a movie sounds great," he replies as he eagerly nods his head, more than happy to see you for a little longer.
Your eyes light up with lust that Seokmin mistakes for standard excitement before you turn away from him to grab your keys out of your bag.
You mentally curse at yourself for not wearing a matching set of underwear tonight as you turn the key in the lock but push the thought away once you step into your apartment.
You eye him expectedly, waiting for him to get the hint to step in, which he luckily gets after a few seconds, mumbling a 'sorry' under his breath.
"So what movie do you—mmph?"
The moment Seokmin shuts the door, you press him against it and capture his lips with his. Your hands slide down his chest through his white button-up, loving his warmth felt against your palms. His hands stayed by his side as he was stiff in shock, trying to decipher why you were kissing him like this, even though your touch was addictive.
It took you a few seconds to realize that he wasn't kissing back, and you immediately pulled away from him, eyes darting across his face to read for any signs of discomfort.
"Shit- are you not into this? Fuck- I'm so sorry," you scramble out, worried that you had scared him off with how forward you were.
Seokmin quickly shakes his head and finally remembers he does indeed have hands and cups your face in his large palms.
"No, no, no, don't be sorry. I'm just surprised, that's all. Just…really really surprised, but I liked it; a lot. I don't know why'd you want to kiss me, but wow, you're a good kisser," he rambles in an attempt to reassure you that you hadn't massively fucked up.
Although you found his rushed explanation endearing, you couldn't help but furrow your brows towards the end of his rambling. The not-so-subtle self-deprecation upsetting you but fueling a fire inside you to show the man that stood in front of you just how sexy you thought he was.
"Why wouldn't I want to kiss you? You're sweet, you're funny, you're a great listener, and not to be shallow, but I thought you were one of the hottest guys I've ever seen when we first met. I've wanted to kiss you since we left the restaurant."
"Hot? No, trust me, I'm not-" he attempts to say before you cut him off with a lighthearted glare.
Your hands that were currently frozen on his chest begin to move once more, gliding up and down his torso before caressing his broad shoulders, trailing your hands down his arms before squeezing his biceps. Seokmin feels a twitch in his pants as your lustful gaze takes in all of his frames until your eyes reach his.
The hallway lights were much more useful for admiring every feature of his face, but even with the dim moonlight shining through the windows of your apartment, nothing could hide how attractive he was. Inside and out.
"Seokmin, shut up, please. I think you're sexy, and I doubt there's anything you can do to change my opinion unless you randomly start acting like a dick. But with the way Jeonghan talks about you, I have a feeling that won't happen. I really like you, okay?"
Your gentle tone eases Seokmin's nerves, a wave of confidence flooding his brain. He pulls your face closer to his before the destructive self-critic inside his head could ruin this moment for him. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to feel good about himself. He deserved someone like you.
And so he presses his lips against yours, kissing you softly before his lips move against yours in a way that had you melting in his hands. Seokmin wasn't aggressive, not at all, but he was passionate, the raw emotion of his slow, deep kiss turning your brain into mush.
Damn, this man can kiss.
A soft moan escapes your throat as he tilts his head to the side, nose bumping against yours momentarily as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against your lips, void of self-doubt as his thumbs gently caress your cheeks.
He steps away from the front door, leading you backward until he accidentally stumbles over your bag, which you must have dropped on the floor during your initial kiss.
His lips parted from yours, the two of you letting out giggles as he bent down to pick up your bag, placing it carefully on the accent table by your door before turning his attention back towards you.
You waste no time grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into another kiss, one that feels much more heated as his hands now rest on your waist, rubbing your sides softly before something in his brain snaps and makes him ache in need of having you closer to him. Seokmin wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your body flush against his, the intimate action allowing you to feel the impressive bulge in his pants.
You pull away from him, intentionally this time, hooded eyes looking into his as the two of you try to catch your breaths.
"Do you want to keep going?" You ask for safe measure, although you had a feeling you knew what he would answer with.
Seokmin cutely nodded, his eyes still glossed over with lust, but it was still cute nonetheless.
He bites his lip in anticipation and excitement once you grab his hand to lead him to your bedroom. He doesn't bother admiring the decor as he steps into your room, pulling his hand away from yours and pulling your back against his front, his bulge pressing into you as he tilts your head to the side to press kisses along your neck.
You moan as he manages to find your sweet spot in record time, your hand raising to lace your fingers into his soft strands, nails grazing his scalp, which rewards you with a moan that escapes his pretty lips.
His lips work diligently, kissing up to your ear before mumbling out words you're surprised you're not too delirious with need to make sense of.
"Mm, by the way, I really like you too," he breathes out with a laugh, fanning your ear, which causes you to turn around in his grasp.
You reach your hand between your bodies and palm Seokmin through his pants, the man immediately reacting to your actions. His jaw drops slightly, his eyes closing shut as he shudders from your touch. You admire the look of pleasure on his face as your hand squeezes and rubs him through the thick fabric, giving him some satisfaction, but you knew he needed more, and you were more than happy to give it to him if he looked this sexy when experiencing pleasure.
"I can tell, baby," you purr out.
The term of endearment nearly makes his knees buckle from underneath him.
All year he had convinced himself that he wasn't ready to move on. He wasn't willing to open up his heart again. But with your smaller hands rubbing him in need alongside your words of affection, his treacherous ex couldn't reside further in the back of his mind. He was far too gone, too enraptured with you to stress about anything else.
Until you pulled your hand away from his clothed cock to guide him toward the foot of the bed. Your hands press firmly against his chest, pushing him to sit down. Your hands soon take up the task of slowly unbuttoning his shirt, gradually sinking onto your knees, which only made Seokmin's eyebrows furrow in confusion since this definitely wasn't the most effective kissing position.
And his confusion only grew as your hands quickly moved towards his belt, eager to take his pants off so you could have some fun with him.
"W-what are you doing?" Seokmin places a hand over yours, engulfing it as his worried tone causes you to pause.
"I thought you wanted to have sex…it's totally okay if you don't want to! We can just watch a movie or go back to making out if you want-" you reply, now your turn to be a rambling mess.
Seokmin quickly shakes his head, "I want to! But what are you doing on the floor?"
You take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back a smirk as you move your hands to rub up and down his now-exposed stomach, loving how his muscles tensed and relaxed from your touch.
"I wanted your cock in my mouth. Mmmh, I want it so bad," you answer.
Normally, you'd hate how the city lights beamed into your bedroom at night. But the adorable look of shock on Seokmin's face, eyes wide as his breathing gets heavier, have you silently thanking yourself for leaving your blackout curtains open before you left.
"You don't- you really don't have to," Seokmin whispers out, out of breath from how your needy hands were feeling him up.
Seokmin knew that any other guy (who was attracted to women) would be losing their shit right now, wondering what kind of idiot would try and turn down a blowjob from someone like you. But, honestly, he wanted to save himself from embarrassment even if his cock was leaking precum in desperation to know what your lips, which he already loved kissing, would feel wrapped around his length.
As if you could sense his inner dilemma, you sit back on your heels, gazing up at him with a pout written on your face.
"I know I don't have to. I said I wanted to. Do you want me to?"
Seokmin couldn't tell if it was the fact he felt smitten under your gaze or if he was just painfully honest, but his following words fell from his lips before he could save himself from oversharing his thoughts.
"I want you to, but no one's ever done…that for me, and I haven't been with anyone for a while, and I'm worried I'm gonna ruin the night by finishing too quick," he rushed out, his cheeks flushed red as he silently curses at himself for saying too much, fully prepared for you to laugh at him and kick him out.
But that didn't happen.
Instead, he's met with a heartwarming smile that soon forms into a smirk as you run your hands up and down his thick thighs.
"It's okay if you cum quick, baby. You can always make it up to me next time. Now, are you gonna let me have a taste or not?"
Next time?
Seokmin couldn't ignore the strain his cock felt against his pants. The thought of doing this and so much more in the future with you sent tingles down his body, and before he knew it, he was nodding his head for you to continue, a soft whisper of his approval leaving his lips.
You bite your lip, trying to mask your growing excitement as you trail our hands further up his thighs and finally finish taking off his belt, the metal buckle clanking against your floors which neither of you pays mind to.
"Gonna make you feel so good~" you purr, leaving forward to plant your lips on his stomach while your hands unbutton and unzip Seokmin's pants.
His pretty eyes flutter shut as he tilts his head back, savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin, trailing lower and lower to where he longed for them the most.
Raising his hips a little, he helps you shimmy his pants down his legs, watching with hooded eyes as you toss them to the corner of your dimmed room.
You pause momentarily, admiring and borderline drooling due to the sight before you. His shirt open, exposing his torso, his messy hair from your hands playing with it, the rosy hue on his cheeks as his dark brown eyes stared down at you, waiting patiently for more.
Your eyes flickered down to his bulge, obscured by the soft fabric of his briefs. You subconsciously kick your lips as you make out the faint wet patch spoiling his underwear, precum soaking into the material.
Seokmin felt his heart speed up tremendously as you slowly lowered towards his clothed cock. His hands grip your soft bed sheets underneath him, a low moan leaving his lips as you lick and kiss him through the fabric. You feel slick coating your underwear as sweet sounds of pleasure continue to leave him, filling up the room deliciously.
Seokmin doesn't know when his eyes shut closed again, but he takes a small peek and quickly realizes it was a mistake.
He never knew someone could look so beautiful on their knees for him. All for him and eager to please. He balances himself upright with one arm as the other moves to rest on the top of your head, slowly stroking your head as you drag his underwear down his thick thighs.
"You're so pretty," he gently compliments before throwing his head back as you kiss the tip of his cock.
"Mm, your cock's pretty," you mumble against him before moving a hand to cup his balls.
Seokmin can only reply with a breathy laugh before a loud groan fills the room, his whole body tingling with pleasure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, tongue pressing against the underside of his length while your hand gently rubs his sensitive balls.
It certainly wasn't a lie; Seokmin's cock was pretty. It wasn't massive to the point where you feared whether or not you could handle it, but it was more than enough to imagine the stretch your mouth (and cunt) would feel.
But what you loved most were the veins that ran along his cock, now pressing against your lips as you took more of his length into his mouth, driving the man above you absolutely crazy.
Seokmin panted as he tried to keep himself from cumming too quickly, the unfamiliar and wet sensation of someone's mouth wrapped around his cock almost too much for him to handle. His moans became more frequent as you slowly bob your head, fucking his cock with your mouth, feeling his salty precum pool in your mouth, mixing with your saliva, the slickness perfect for gliding his cock in your mouth.
With eyes rolled back, a guttural groan leaves his chest as you challenge yourself to take his entire length into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat as your nose dug into his pubic bone. He reacts by mindlessly bucking his hips, forcing his cock down your throat, which he quickly apologizes for.
"Fuck—I'm sorry. You feel so good," he half whines, half moans as his hands shoot down to try and pull you off of him, worried that he had gotten too eager and hurt you (and your throat).
The first curse word you hear leave his usually polite mouth only makes you want him more, pressing your face as close as possible so his cock can reach as far as it can. You breathe through your nose as Seokmin's mouth gapes at the feeling of your throat closing around him before you pull your mouth from him with a gasp, a string of spit connecting the two of you.
Seokmin's hips thrash on the bed as you take his cock into your hand, jerking him fast as you give your throat a break by leaning down to suckle on his balls.
Shit, shit, shit—
"Y-Y/n, I'm gonna cum if you—holy shit…you're so good at this…is it always this good? Fuck—I'm gonna cum if you keep g-going," he stutters out, his entire being clouded with pleasure that he could feel threatening to spill out of him as a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach grew with each stroke of your hand.
You pull your lips away from his balls with a pleasant pop, smiling up at him, nearly causing him to cum on the spot.
So, so pretty…
"Then cum for me. I want you to cum for me," you practically moan before you wrap your lips around the tip of his deep red tip that was ready to burst.
Your hand continues to stroke his cock, your spit aiding your actions as your other hand fondles his balls, your lips sucking on his tip, ready for him to cum.
Seokmin goes silent for a few seconds, mind foggy with pleasure before he sees a flash of white as thick ropes of cum shoot out of his cock and into your mouth. His knuckles nearly turn white as they find themselves gripping your bedsheets once again as he shudders from the sheer force of his orgasm.
A long, drawn-out moan finally makes it past his airways as you slow your pace on his cock, wanting him to ride out his orgasm as much as possible.
You finally let up once you hear him whine that it's too much. He watches with glossy eyes he can barely keep open as you lift your head away from his slowly shrinking cock. Your eyes never break away from his as you swallow all of his cum with a low moan, feeling it slide down your throat.
He takes a few deep breaths before he helps you up to your feet, standing with you. He swiftly changes positions, you're now the one seated on the bed, and he's on his knees.
You chuckle at him as he takes off your heels you forgot to kick off already and kisses up your legs until he reaches where his lips meet the skirt of your dress.
His affectionate eyes that held so much lust in them glance up at you before he whispers words that shoot straight to your core.
"Is it my turn to have a taste?"
Fuck, he's sexy without even trying.
2K notes · View notes
landoslvr · 2 months
Text
MRS TELEVISION | a. frederick
summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs television'. [social media AU.]
pairing: fem!reader x arthur frederick (arthurtv)
faceclaim: bri kerr
notes: first piece for mrs television out of the wag universe. bri is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs television, hopefully you like it!
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liked by arthurtv, arthurfhill and 1,129 others
yourinstagram helped out on someone else's video for once, chris finally let me leave the dungeon!!!
view all 92 comments
user she kills me
user hottest producer award goes to...
chrismd_10 drinking on the job?
yourinstagram constantly
user she looks peppered in the 3rd slide
user first risky pic from y/n ever on the 6th slide
georgeclarkey thanks for the candid of me and my man 😌😌
arthurtv please someone get him away from me
user y/n's friend is inhaling that guinness 🫢
arthurtv great photography for the 1st and 3rd pictures, big fan!
yourinstagram humble as ever mr television
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liked by georgeclarkey, wroetoshaw and 1,398 others
yourinstagram lots of fun at work recently, constantly mixing business and pleasure 🥂 chrismd thanks for keeping me employed even if I drink at work
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user I can't tell if shes joking about drinking at work 😭
user its definitely a joke, most bts has y/n yelling at chris to pull his head in lol
user she keeps him in line!
yourinstagram have been going on 15 years
user we thank you for your service 🫡
arthurtv no jerseys at the match???
yourinstagram the nerve!
chrismd_10 who's that handsome fella in the last slide?
miniminter leave the md clutches and come to sidemen
yourinstagram throw in talia and you have a deal
georgeclarkey you drunk
yourinstagram seems to be the new normal now, just embracing my new brand (like you and your Invisalign ads)
georgeclarkey too far
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liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,781 others
yourinstagram more of a traveller atm than a producer! enjoyed spain very very much, definitely swipe to the 8th slide to see what arthur classifies as a front flip
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arthurtv it's called being flexible, you wouldn't know anything about it
yourinstagram your six-year-old sister does a better front flip than you
arthurtv leave flora out of this
user guys stop flirting in front of us 😭😭 the false hope hurts
georgeclarkey always appreciate meeting a fan
yourinstagram die
calfreezy that photo was sacred y/n
chrismd_10 I feel ashamed, embarrassed
willne the absolute cheek
user why is no one talking about how good y/n looks in these pictures??
faithlouisak Im thinking the same thing?
user literal island princess
user is that danny aarons in the 5th picture 😭😭
yourinstagram dont even ask how he got the invite
chrismd_10 we're still not sure tbh
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liked by callux, arthurtv and 1,901 others
yourinstagram filmed a very *cool* video this week 🌨️
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arthurtv again, who is your photographer???? such raw talent is exquisite
yourinstagram im very close to letting him go actually, you can have him!
user arthur being the first to comment on her posts fuels my mrs television heart really, give us something guys
user I love them at my core I can't lie
user she is just so pretty
chrismd_10 get back to work
yourinstagram I literally just want to breathe chris
user someone make chris let y/n go, she needs to be a free woman
bezhinga faiths phone is dead but she says 'u look leng'
yourinstagram I love you faith kelly x
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liked by callux, arthurtv and 2,193 others
yourinstagram very good friends! (happy one year doofus)
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user A WHOLE ASS YEAR???????
user who even are they????????
user I feel like I have been swindled here miss l/n
user can we finally call her mrs television??? shes more than chris' producer now, she's one of us
arthurtv best friends for life! (I love you very much)
user I can't tell if im going to cry or faint tbh
user why is he always playing chess, arthur PLEASE
yourinstagram I'm asking this question all the time?
chrismd_10 I take credit for this relationship btw
yourinstagram how so?
chrismd_10 if I hadn't sat with arthur in class and then dragged you into our group project, I like to think this wouldn't have happened
georgeclarkey I love all of the fans so much but please stop sending me these pictures of my fiancé wrapped around another woman
user GEORGE PLEASE
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292 notes · View notes
kurosstuff · 2 months
Note
Hi could I please request a Lute x GN! Reader where Lute and reader get into an argument before the failed extermination and reader dies?
( if you aren’t comfy please ignore this ask ^^ thank youu )
But huge warning? This is a darkish fic. Like its detailed- kinda
I'm gonna mix this with an idea I was actually making similar to this request if you don't mind♡
Warning(s): cannibalsm(..there's cannibals around), blood. War. DEATH(a littke detailed) like? Implied what's happening. just? Very sad, slight toxic relationship?(lute doesn't understand-)
Lute x Reader
Fights were common. Especially in relationships. Only difference in heaven given how usually no one fights. Unless your lover happened to be lute.
Most fights with lute don't typically end with a screaming match. But in this case, it did. It was the worst fight you've ever had with her. You assumed it was from whatever Adam did. But now? As your pacing ignoring her as she screamed her head off at you. You don't know.
You don't even know what triggered her violent self. Sighing, you shook your head. "Lute. You're a cruel woman, " which? Set her off into a rose tantrum, sighing, rubbing your head at the growing headache. From these arguments, you opened your mouth to apologize just to get this over with
"Drop dead Y/N" she snarled out before freezing. Everything became quiet as you stared at her, confused, shocked? You didn't know what to feel. Turning you did what you should have done.
You walked away
-
Not once since your fight did you go back home. You didn't want to talk to her. Fight anymore, especially now as you trained for the next battle. Going to the hotel itself.
Frowning, you sighed, ignoring how Adam himself moved to try and convince you to talk to Lute "no Adam. She knows she fucked up. She needs to apologize, " you snarled, glaring at his attempt to again fix you both up. Walking right past him you sighed.
You both knew? Lute would never apologize. Her pride is too big.
If anything, she expects you to apologize to her for starting something(even though she did) closing your eyes to ignore the regret. Ignore the need to find her. Kiss her. Tell her everything is going to be fine- wrap her in your wings and hold your mate. But you don't. You walk right past her training
She needed to do it. You won't hold her hand through this. It's her responsibility to take care of her mistakes.
-
The battle was a mess. It's a huge mess. Everyone was dying. Angels demons - all around you was just blood shed.' Your missing leg was evidence of this matter. Closing your eyes behind your broken mask, you smiled. Lute would be fine. She's safe. She'd get out
That's all that mattered to you
You prayed Lute wouldn't find you. Prayed she would just fight leave with Adam like usual and just go home during arguments. Just have faith you'd come home.
Your lip quivered as memories with her flashed through your mind. All the good the bad. Everything. As footsteps and cackling was heard around you. A tear ran down your face
"I love you lute" was all you could say before hands grabbed at you.
-
Lute was in a panic flying around the blood shed searching high and low for you. Where the fuck can you have gone? Snarling easily sliced a demon, not even looking before she paled getting pissed the usual Lute as she stared at you cornered by cannibals watching you' as If? They were waiting for something to happen.
Lute flew fast, which was hard given the state of her bleeding wing plus missing arm? It wasn't gonna be easy "YOU LET THEM GO YOU FUCKER" she screamed filled with rage and panic.
Please. Don't take them- not them
Tears mixed with her blood as she landed on the ground on her two feet, rushing forward to fight to save you before hands pushed her down those bloodied cannibals forming around the two of you like a ring.
PLEASE- DONT FUCKING TAKE THEM. Is all that's going through her mind. She lost Adam. She was too late but- not you' not her dove. Not her lover. Not her life
"UNHAND THEM -" she screamed out as panic setting in once more as she - too weak from blood loss - was pinned forced to watch as the cannibals above you began their meal. Tearing your once gorgeous white wings off that gold blood splattering everywhere
She couldn't hear anything besides your screens. God. Those begs of Freedom and someone else's screams - before she realized the one screaming was her as she screamed bloody murder. Screamed for you to be let go' to get a chance at life. You didn't deserve this. "TAKE ME. IM THE ONE YOU WHAT NOT THEM THEY DONT DESERVE THIS PLEASE -" How pathetic. Her once cold, strong, commanding voice now broken hoarse clear pain as she begged for your life
She couldn't help but scream even louder as they mauled you like some starved animals given a meal for the first time in weeks. As if I had never been fed before - screaming loudly, she didn't stop until she no longer could anymore.
Until she tasted the blood eyes closing, no longer able to look at your mangled body. How bone poked out chewed up like dogs eat their bones. Hiding her face into the dirt screaming muffled that sickening crunch of bones shattering
She doesn't remember what happened next. Doesn't remember grabbing your halo with Adam's clinging to then as someone dragged her away. Looking she sobbed, unlike how Adam had a body. There was none. Just a golden ground. They ate you. Every single piece. Clothing and all. The only way she knew you were there was for the halo they allowed her to grab. The blood on the floor, as the cannibal who watched her licked the blood
She's going to make them pay. Screaming in rage. She'll make them all pay. She'll kill every single one of those fucking demons. Those vile things. She'll avenge her boss- Adam. And more importantly, avenge you. Her one and only love
Staring at them all, she spoke for the final time full of venom. Hate. "I'll kill each and every one of you"
-
Later, as she sat on your shared bed, unable to look in your side of the bed, she let herself grieve alone. Sob for Adam. But here and now? She sobbed for her true love. The one who would COULD own her heart. Soul and all.
The last interaction she had with you made her sob harder. Why was she cruel? Why was she such a fucking bitch? She didn't deserve you. She couldn't protect you. Hell, she couldn't even show she loved you -
As she held the picture of the two of you, she choked sobbing out, "I didn't even say I love you-" The last thing she ever spoke to you, her lover? Wasn't a gentle thing, but rather her telling you to drop dead. "I'm so sorry, my dove -"
And you did.
And lute? Has to live with that. Forever.
211 notes · View notes
athenaluthor · 3 months
Text
The Beginning
pairing- darth vader x reader
summary: A morning with his wife and son, what could go wrong? Vader's faith in Palpatine has finally begun to crack. Is this the beginning of the end?
warnings: SFW, Unburnt!Vader, Husband!Vader, Dad!Vader, Pregnant!Reader, fluff, Vader being a dad and lovesick husband, nameless son, slight child abuse(by Palpatine), mentions of Palpatine
Word count: 1.7k (unedited)
side note: any ideas for their kids' names?
masterlist
Vader creeps into the room quietly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping boy despite him being a heavy sleeper. His son's bedroom is warm and cozy, a stark difference from the imposing skyscrapers of Coruscant just outside the window. The sight that greets Vader tugs at his heartstrings.
His little boy lays sprawling on the bed, small blond curls poking out here and there, with small snores escaping him. Blankets are falling off the bed and his plushies lay messily on the floor, yet his son remains unbothered. He reckons the boy could sleep through anything. An invasion could take over Coruscant long before his son would wake.
The boy was such a deep sleeper it worried Vader at times. The force drains you a great amount especially during childhood, which is enough justification to have a chef curate meal plans for his son. Thankfully, Vader feels everything through the force. If something is ever amiss with his son or wife, he would know.
Vader sits down on the bed, hand instinctively reaching out to stroke his son's head. The boy is a carbon copy of him, from the hair, to the face and even the way he sounds, all reminds Vader of Anakin. The little boy's curls felt so soft between his fingers, a stark contrast to Vader's calluses.
Luckily for Vader, his son is far more well-mannered and kind than he ever will be. Courtesy of his wife, he supposes. The little boy is intelligent and cheeky like Anakin was, but he is far more empathetic and good-hearted. Only his wife, that kriffing angel of a woman, could turn his child into this beautiful and kind boy.
Suddenly, a sleepy voice snaps Vader out of his thoughts, “Papa?”
“Good morning. Did you sleep well,hmm?” replies Vader, smiling at the boy.
“Mmhm. No bad dreams.” Says his son in between big yawns and a stretch.
Vader takes this opportunity to pick the boy up and bring him onto his lap. Sleepy, the boy falls right back asleep with his head on Vader's shoulder and arms tightly wrapped around his neck. Vader melts each time the boy does this and today is no exception. Feeling his little boy's body melt onto his and the soft little breaths, it makes him want to stay like this for eternity.
Vader kisses the boy's head, breathing in the smell of his baby shampoo that seemed to fade each day the boy grows older.
Then, Vader wraps his arms around the boy and stands up to carry him. He adjusts the boy a little, making sure the boy is comfortable and wouldn't slip before moving out the door. The walk over to Vader's room does nothing to jolt the little boy whose sleep takes priority over everything else. His breathing is steady and Vader swears the boy is starting to snore softly.
“Snoring? Already?” Vader muses to himself.
Once there, Vader lays the boy on the bed and within seconds, the boy sprawls out on the bed. Vader supposes your parents bed is always much more comfortable than your own since his son seems so happy on his bed.
“He's sleepy.” says his wife, looking at their sleeping son as she steps out of the bathroom.
“He always is. The world is dead to him until he decides to wake.” Vader replies, smiling at he boy's antics.
Vader turns to look at his wife when she walks past him to the closet. Belly swollen, full of his child, Vader could barely take his eyes off her.
She waddles instead of walking now, careful with her steps in an attempt to not slip. These days, all she asks from him is a massage here and there. Vader can't complain. Soon, his wife will give birth to a second child. All she asks him to do in return is to bring her food and make her feel good.
Joining her in the closet, Vader merely leans against the doorframe and stares as she moves about the room. Picking her dress, jewelry and fussing about how the tones of her shoes didn't match everything else. He adores to see how she moves, the way her hair shifts as she does and the look on her face when she finds the right combination of clothes.
They eventually fall into their usual rhythm. A comfortable morning routine of getting dressed and ready before facing the chaos of the galaxy. In a way, it was reprieve from the stress of the Empire that is certainly suffocating.
Just as his wife finishes her hair and makeup, their son stumbles into the room sleepily. The little boy immediately catches the attention of his parents.
“Mama? Papa?” His little voice fills the room, all shaky and sad.
Without hesitation, Vader crosses the room from his side of the closet to the door where his son stands. Vader kneels down, face-to-face with his son. His son is all red-faced and full of sobs.
Vader wipes the boy's tears before picking him up. He looks at his wife, who looks just as concerned beside him. Seeing their boy like this tugs at their heartstrings greatly, considering their son is rarely reduced to tears like this.
Vader gently strokes the boy's back while his wife softly asks, “What's wrong, sweetheart?.
“Don’t want to see it again!” The boy lets out through his sobs. His wife softly brushes their son's curls out of his face, cooing at him, trying to help him calm down.
“See what, hmm?” Vader asks.
“The man! The old man! He's scary and he hurt me!”
At his son's reply, a chill washes down Vader's spine. A foreboding feeling washes over him like no other.
“Hurt you?” his wife asks.
The question only spurs on their son's tears. Now, he's buried his face in the crook of Vader's neck.
Vader doesn't take notice of the tears that are soaking his collar. Instead, his thoughts are light years away. Somehow he knows that the man his son talks about is none other than his master. In his guts, Vader knows Palpatine is responsible for this.
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By noon, their son is much calmer. The sobs and tears are gone, leaving behind a very tired little boy.
Vader decides against leaving and opts to work from his study at home. The dining room is also set up for his assistants and officers to use while they work.
His wife stays with their son who refuses to leave his parents’ room. Though, Vader is sure his wife wouldn't have let their son leave in the first place because Vader wouldn't either.
When Vader left his bedroom earlier, he made sure breakfast had been served and both his wife and son were comfortable. Eventually the little boy fell asleep listening to his parents chatter.
Vader wanted to stay with them both, unwilling to leave his pregnant wife with a hysterical child. Ensuring the attendants and maids weren't far away from his wife, he also increases the guards around the house. The latter more for his sanity than their safety, truly.
Even then, it took his wife a ridiculous amount of convincing before Vader agreed to leave and attend to his work. Vader doesn't say it out loud but something still feels wrong and he can't put his finger on it.
The force feels quiet, too quiet in Vader's opinion. The quietness reminds him of the calm before a storm and he despises every part of it. As a child, he often had this feeling on Tatooine before the sandstorms would hit. Vader's mother, Shmi, would often be on the receiving end of his ranting.
Tonight, he decides, he will meditate on it. With enough focus, the force will show him everything he needs to know.
The dark side in Vader thrums in anticipation. Undoubtedly, it is digging its claws deeper and deeper into him today as anger takes over him. These days, Vader cares little for anything else except for his little family and the thought of anyone hurting them is enough to fuel his dark side.
Perhaps he should cast runes all over his home. Vader's knowledge of the dark side runs as deep as his knowledge of the Jedi. During his travels, Vader has found several Sith holocrons containing different rituals, spells and incantations previous Sith Lords had used. All were far more powerful than anything he'd seen in his Jedi days.
Suddenly, one of his wife's handmaid rushes in.
“L-lord Vader! My lady has requested you come quickly.” comes her voice.
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The sight makes Vader want to burn down the entire galaxy. Their son's entire back is covered in force lightning marks. Unfortunately, easily recognisable to Vader as he had been on the receiving end of it for many years.
Now, Vader is entirely sure that Palpatine has done this. Even if indirectly, Vader is sure Palpatine is involved.
Thoughts course through Vader's mind, "Are there other Sith Lords he is unaware of? How and why could his master have done this?".
No wonder the little boy was so distraught. He had refused any attempts of taking a bath which were miracles at calming him down. Both Vader and his wife found it odd.
Now, Vader knows he was just in pain. Vader is reeling, he feels as if he's been plunged into the freezing ocean's depth. The sight of his son has his stomach lurching, "he's a child, he's only a child!" he angrily thinks to himself.
Vader's gaze turns to his wife who's distraught is palpable through the force and Vader moves to her side when she clutches her bump with a whimper. Vader helps her sit down as she nearly falls to her knees, groaning in pain.
Helping her calm down, he sits beside her and embraces her. Hand stroking her back until he breathing evens and the tension in her body subsides. Pulling away, Vader moves to gently stroke her cheek and wipes her tears away.
In tears, she heartbreakingly asks him “Why has this happened to him?”
Vader leans his head in until his forehead and hers are flush against each other, choosing not to answer. He tucks her hair behind her, letting her lean into his touch.
Vader's faith in the Emperor has always been constant and unbending. The galaxy is certainly well aware of Vader's loyalty in carrying out the Emperor's orders.
How could Palpatine have done this? Let him believe he could have another chance at a family and go after his child. Has this been the plan all along? Was he blind all this time?
Has Emperor Palpatine truly betrayed him?
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transjudas · 11 months
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a collection of moments from the translated trial of Joan of Arc from 1431 that are fucking iconic of her:
‘And then did We forbid Jeanne, without Our permission, to leave the prison which had been assigned to her in the Castle, under pain of the crime of heresy. “I do not accept such a prohibition,” she answered; “if ever I do escape, no one shall reproach me with having broken or violated my faith, not having given my word to any one, whosoever it may be.”’
“Was he naked?” “Do you think God has not wherewithal to clothe him?”
“I have always answered that you will not drag this from my lips. Go and ask it of him.” 
“You shall not have anything more at present.” (she gave variations of this response all throughout the trial/examinations. basically if she felt that god had not given her permission to speak on a subject, she just wouldn’t. she did not seem to acknowledge the authority of those questioning and judging her at all, which makes sense. She also frequently replied “that is not your Case” which I think is basically her saying that’s not relevant to this trial so none of your business.)
“I promise to speak truth on what touches your Case; but the more you constrain me to swear, the later will I tell you.”
“Who induced you to have cited a man of the town of Toul on the question of marriage?” “I did not have him cited; it was he, on the contrary, who had me cited; and then I swore before the Judge to speak the truth. And besides, I had promised nothing to this man.”
“If it should be that I am taken to Paris, grant, I pray you, that I may have a copy of my questions and answers, so that I may lend them to those at Paris, and that I may be able to say to them: ‘Thus was I questioned at Rouen; and here are my answers : in this way, I shall not have to trouble again over so many questions.”
“Did you give, or cause to be given, money to him who took Franquet?” “I am not Master of the Mint or Treasurer of France to pay out money so.”
“Upon the oath that you have taken, tell us, how did you think to escape from the Castle of Beaulieu between two planks of wood ?” “Never was I prisoner in such a place that I would not willingly have escaped. Being in that Castle, I should have shut my keepers in the tower, if it had not been that the porter espied me and encountered me.”
“If I had leave to go in woman’s dress, I should soon put myself back in man’s dress and do what God has commanded me: I have already told you so. For nothing in the world will I swear not to arm myself and put on a man’s dress; I must obey the orders of Our Lord.”
“Do you know if Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret hate the English?” “They love what God loves: they hate what God hates.” (I know that this is all about nationalism during war but this is still hilarious to me. like goddamn, okay! Also I have to note that the examiner follows up with “does God hate the English?” and she basically says she cannot know but I want does God hate the English on a tshirt)
“I had that ring in my hand and on my finger, when I touched Saint Catherine as she appeared to me.” “What part of Saint Catherine?” “You will have no more about it.” “Did you ever kiss or embrace Saint Catherine or Saint Margaret?” “I have embraced them both.” “Did they smell good?” “It is well to know, they smelled good.” “In embracing them, did you feel any heat or any thing else?” (yo WHY is this examiner such a FREAK stop being weird my dude!!!)
“I took it of my own free will, and with no constraint: I prefer a man’s dress to a woman’s dress.” (mood)
So struck by how she really did not see those prosecuting (and persecuting) her as valid authorities and she was not subtle about it. However you see Joan and the voices she heard, she was a brave and bold and relatably snarky 19 year old telling the people who did not accept her belief nor her existence as we would likely now see as a mentally ill/psychotic young woman in society to fuck off.
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gojos-thot-patrol · 10 months
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Good evening Dear Reader, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I've missed you so much! Don't worry darling, I don't return empty handed ;)
Now Presenting...
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Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, in a modern day curse-less AU Summary: After being left at the alter by your less than magnificent fiance, you only have one thing on your mind: revenge sex. And who better to help you out than the man your ex hates the most.
Warning: This fic contains a gratuitous amount of smut, both praise and degradation, unprotected sex, face fucking, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, and is all wrapped up in a nice cream-pie. viewer discretion is advised ;)
Okay, admittedly, you may have had this coming. Everyone and his mother warned you about Satoru Gojo. About his womanizing ways, his commitment issues, his demanding job. Still, none of that mattered to you. You were convinced that you could fix him! That love would pull through. He’d realize that you meant more to him than being a playboy, and he’d settle down for you. You knew in your heart that you would have your fairytale ending with him.
Yea well turns out your hearts a dirty fucking liar. The weight of that realization was crashing down hard on you as you nursed a vodka sweet tea at what was supposed to be the reception for your wedding. You secretly vowed to never pick up another romance novel ever again. There’s not many things in this world more mortifying than being left at the altar. Maybe somebody pulling an “I told you so” right after you got left at the altar? That could be just as bad.
“I told you so,” Nanami said as he sat next to you, tie already undone. The groan that escaped your throat was a little more raw than you intended as you dropped your head into your arms. It was official; this was the most humiliating day of your life. 
“Thanks Kento, that's actually exactly what I needed right now,” You muttered as you picked up your head long enough to finish your drink.
“Always happy to help.” He said, patting your back in what you were fairly confident was meant to be comforting. You sighed as you rubbed your face, not even caring if your makeup smudged anymore. You were sure at least your mascara was wrecked. 
“I just don’t understand what I did wrong,” You admitted, turning to face the partying crowd, dancing the night away as if this wasn’t the worst night of your life. At least it was all on fuck faces dime. “I was the perfect fiance! I was loving without being suffocating, I supported him in everything he fucking did, I was faithful, shit man, we fucked constantly, it was like-”
“I don’t need to know the details, thanks.” Nanami said, quickly cutting you off before you put any images in his mind. He shook his head to expel any that had slipped in. “It’s nothing you did Y/n,” He assured you, “Gojo is just not the type to commit to a coffee order, let alone a marriage.” You shook your head, not wanting to accept it.
“I just wish I could find a way to hurt him like how he hurt me.” You muttered. You scanned the faces dancing in the crowd. You were shocked to see how many of his friends were still there. Nanami made sense, at some point he became more your friend than Satorus. But Suguru? That one didn’t make any sense. Unless it was to report back to Satoru what you were do-
Oh.
Oh, he was definitely here to make sure you were a fucking mess. He was here to report back to Gojo that you were indeed destroyed and were never going to get over him. No, No absolutely not, you were not going to let him have that. 
“Y/n, are you listening?” Nanami asked. You absolutely were not. 
“Uh huh, yea,” You nodded, scanning the crowd for a body to get under, “I’ll be sure to start investing tomorrow-”
“Nope, not even close to what I was saying.” Nanami groaned, rolling his eyes. He recognized that look on your face. “What are you scheming Y/n?” It was then your eyes landed on the perfect target- I mean hookup. Ryomen Sukuna, nursing a drink in the back of the venue, watching the party the way a lion watches a herd of gazelles. You never fully understood Satoru’s friendship with him, but you completely understood why he got the invite. The two were less close college friends, and more bitter rivals patiently waiting for the other's downfall. The two constantly had to one up and outdo each other, and you had no doubt in your mind his invitation was just another way to try and show off.
“So, Nanami, You still talk to Ryomen, right?” You asked, ignoring whatever he was saying before.
“I don’t like that you’re asking me that right now.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. I just want to know if he’s sing-”
“No.” Nanami said firmly, looking at you with the same eyes a father gives a child that keeps drawing on the walls.
“No he’s taken or no you won’t tell me if he is or not?” you asked, taking out a compact from your bag to check your makeup. It actually wasn’t that bad! Shout out to waterproof makeup!
“No, I’m not going to watch you make mistake after mistake. Ryomen is bad news. You think Gojo was bad? Well he’s ten times worse.” Nanami warned, looking into the crowd to see if he could find Ryomen lurking in it. He didn’t even know he was here! And if anyone would be down to make a bad situation worse, it was him.
“How does my ass look in this dress?” You asked. Satoru had picked it out because it was “danceable” for you. It wasn’t something you would have chosen for yourself, but you still felt like you rocked it. 
“I’m not answering that question.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes in annoyance.
“You don’t have to, I know I look good.” You smiled and winked. The dress may not have been great on you, but it’s fine. Confidence is what's really attractive. You took a deep breath, then went to approach the unapproachable. Ryomen couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried, but the closer you got the more interesting he became. His black dress shirt hugged him just a little too tight, leaving very little to the imagination. He had his sleeves rolled up, tattoos on full display while he checked his watch. He looked up from it just in time to capture your eyes with his, intrigue and amusement igniting behind his scarlet irises. 
“Hi Ryomen,” You smiled. You had been working on a loose outline of a script as you made your way to him, but now that you were next to him that script was about as good as your marriage was. And well, considering your marriage never actually happened..
“Hi Y/n. I’m surprised to see you here, honestly.” Ryomen had never been one to beat around the bush. You noticed his eyes fall to your cleavage.Oh good, he was willing to play ball.
“Why are you surprised? It’s my party.” You smiled, resting next to him against the wall.
“I don’t know many people that would want to go to the reception after getting so publicly dumped.” He said. Ouch, ok that was uncalled for. You hoped the sting didn’t show on your face. If it did it didn’t phase him.
“Hey, the party was paid for,” You shrugged, “No use letting a perfectly good open bar go to waste, especially when I’m not paying for it.” You grinned. You had successfully earned yourself a smirk from Sukuna, and a point for the home team.
“I’ll drink to that,” He laughed, “Want me to grab you something?” The ball was in your court, quick, be clever! 
“A drink actually sounds great right now. How about a Sex on the Beach?” You smirked.
“Ooo, I don’t think they’re serving those. How about I give you a Screaming Orgasm instead?” He smirked back.
“Hmm, I don’t know, I may need a Leg Spreader before that.” You hummed, giggling for the first time all night. He nodded, 
“Got it, a Blowjob for me and a Leg Spreader for you. I’ll be right back.” he nodded, walking off. The thought of Ryomen trying to take a blowjob shot, hunched over the glass and trying to drink the liquid without using his hands, genuinely made you laugh a little. You found an empty table nearby to take up residence at, and contemplate if you really wanted to do this. Your relationship was in the gutter, there was no getting around that. Being left at the altar was the kind of blow you can’t just come back from. 
But you didn’t have to fuck his friends (enemy?). Doing this was most definitely an act of war. Whether you were actively together or not, Gojo was extremely territorial of you. You knew that was why Suguru was here; to make sure you didn’t jump into a rebound. If he found out you slept with Ryomen Sukuna of all people on your (almost) wedding night of all days, that would eat him alive from the inside out. There would be hell to pay for sure.
Good. You reminded yourself that you didn’t ask for this fight, but you would win it. You smiled as Ryomen returned with two drinks: a whiskey neat for him and a drink that looked more akin to chocolate milk with whip cream for you. 
“Gotta say; looking a bartender in the eye and asking for a ‘screaming orgasm’ will never not be funny.” He joked, handing you your drink and sitting across from you. 
“Yea, why are so many drinks named like that? It’s weird, right?” You asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion.
“All bartenders are secretly nymphomaniacs,” He said with enough confidence you were almost convinced that was a real requirement to make drinks. “You’d know that if you slept with more.” and he said that as if it was some moral failing on your part that you had not slept with an adequate number of bartenders. It made you laugh.
“Oh, my mistake you’re right. I’ll fix that right now,” You bluffed. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the bar.
“Be my guest.” He offered, calling out the aforementioned bluff. 
“Oh, but that means I’d have to leave my guest alone, and that’s just bad hosting.” You faux pouted. He shrugged.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be alone for very long.” He smirked at you from behind his glass before taking a drink. You wanted to call him out on his bluff, but, you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Satoru had dragged you to enough social events with Sukuna to know that he rarely went home alone. You decided to go with a different strategy. 
“Well, what if I told you I had my sights set on a better prize for tonight?” You asked, batting your eyes and bringing your arms together to emphasize your chest. Sukuna gave a dark grin, seeing right through you.
“I’d say good choice,” he winked, “especially for what you’re trying to do.” Welp, you didn't have anything planned for that comment. You blinked at him
“What do you mean?” You asked, playing dumb. 
“Come on Y/n, I’d hope you’d give me more credit than this. You got stood up at the altar by your asshole, hopefully ex, fiance, and now you want to fuck the guy he hates more than just about anything else to get back at him. It’s a solid plan honestly, and luckily for you, I’ve had my eyes on you since the first time Satoru brought you around.” He was making eye contact with you. The fire in his crimson eyes danced with mirth and hedonistic intent. You realized this was probably why Sukuna had even bothered to show up to the reception. He had your plan before you even did.
Before you could respond, you were startled by a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Hey Y/n, how you holding up?” You looked up to see Sugurus' gentle smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes held nothing but steel and mild resentment. He always looked at you like that. You moved your shoulder from under his hand.
“I’m fine Sug, thanks for asking.” You muttered, taking a long sip of your drink. ‘Don’t sit down, don’t sit down, don’t sit down,’ played in your mind on repeat.
“Of course, Y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He said, sitting down. ‘Fuck!’ “I know this must be hard for you.”
“Actually, You’d be surprised.” You said, getting your nerves back together. This was Gojos' spy. You couldn't let him see you falter. “I’m just ready to be over it.”
“You know what they say; the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody.” Ryomen chuckled as he finished his drink. Suguru glared at him.
“Yea, I never liked that advice.” He said, venom lacing its way into his words as he shot daggers at Sukuna with his eyes. He turned back to you, “It’s always sounded like a good way to make your situation worse.” Was that a threat? 
“I mean, You never know until you try.” You challenged.
“I disagree.” Suguru warned. You brushed him off. 
“Well, If that’s how you feel, so be it. Do me a favor?” You asked, looking at him with your best doe eyes.
“Of course, anything.” He said, plastering back on that fake sympathetic smile.
“Watch my drink for me,” you said, standing up and taking Sukunas’ hand, “Ryomen and I were just about to dance.” You grinned. Ryomen returned your grin ten fold, laughing as he followed you to the dance floor, leaving an almost visibly confused and quite frankly offended Suguru to seeth at the table. Last time you looked back, he had taken out his phone and was furiously typing on it. Good.
“I knew I liked you.” Ryomen whispered into your ear as the two of you made it to the dance floor. 
“Try to keep up with me.” You whispered back. You let the music flow through you, taking a few seconds to find your rhythm before moving your body in time with the music. Ryomen to his credit didn’t miss a beat, dancing not only to the beat, but in harmony with your own body as well. 
As the music played the two of you became more acquainted with each other's moves and dance styles. You thought you would switch it up on him, going in to grind. He didn’t falter for a second, placing a hand on your hip and matching your pace. You expected a lot of things from this exchange, but the electric pulse his touch sent through your body was not one of them.
“Am I keeping up with you?” Ryomen mumbled into your ear, the sound of his rough voice sent waves of heat through you and directly to your core. You spun around to face him, realizing that now he was within kissing distance.
“You’re doin’ well enough,”' you purred to him, running a hand over his chest and god damn. It should be illegal to be that well built. Between the tight shirt and your own sense of touch, you felt like you had a pretty good idea of what he looked like without that shirt on. Still, you desperately wanted to confirm your theory.
“What do you say we get out of here?” Ryomen asked, almost as if he could read your mind.
“I say that's a pretty good idea,” You nodded as the two of you left the dance floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you to the exit, and you slipped your hand into his back pocket. You really hoped Suguru had a clear view of this. ‘Eat your goddamn heart out Gojo’ You thought maybe just a bit too smugly as you found your way outside, and he gave his ticket to the valet boy.
You took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to ground yourself back into reality. It didn’t feel quite real yet. Your almost four year relationship had just barely ended, and already you were hopping into bed with someone you knew was bad news. Nanami wasn’t joking when he said Sukuna was just Gojo ten fold. In the four years you’d known him, you had watched him lay waste to more hearts than you cared to keep track of. You just hoped you weren’t next. 
All doubts evaporated like water in Texas when Sukuna approached you again. He had unbuttoned three of his shirt buttons, showing off hints that his tattoos didn’t stop at his face and arms. A cigarette dangled loosely from his lips. He removed it long enough to exhale smoke as he approached.
“Valets on the way.” He informed you. You willed your brain to think of anything other than Ryomen naked long enough to nod. 
“Good to hear.” You nodded. You had a whole new set of anxieties now. You knew Ryomen had a lot of experience. What if you didn’t measure up? Apparently, your nerves were evident in your features. You caught a smug smile from the pink haired man next to you.
“You nervous?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Me?” You chuckled to hide the fact that yes, you indeed were. “I’ve got nothing to be nervous about Ryomen.” 
“Hmm, Well see about that.” He smirked. Before you had time to ask what the fuck that ment, a far prettier car than you were expecting pulled up. A gorgeous, 1957 Ford Thunderbird, with a beautiful cherry red paint job and, from what you could tell, a black leather interior. You knew that all of Gojos' friends were just as loaded as he was, the fact he had a nice car wasn't a surprise. But you had expected a Bently or a Lambo. Not a classic bombshell.
“You have a T-bird?!” you scoffed in disbelief. He laughed and nodded. 
“You like her?” He asked, beaming with pride as he tipped the valet. “I fixed her up myself.” He added, opening the door for you. You slipped into the soft leather seat, and a few seconds later he joined you.
“I never pegged you as a car guy.”
“You’ve never pegged me at all.” He grinned, laughing at his own joke. 
“Wow, you’re so funny you know that?” You scoffed, dripping in sarcasm. Despite that, you were giggling softly to yourself.
“Oh, I’m the funniest. You’d know that if you didn’t have your head up Satorus ass for four years.” He scoffed, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe that relationship lasted as long as it did. You shrugged softly, not really having a come back for that one. 
“What can I say?” You shrugged, “The dick was just that good.” If you had thought you had heard a full hearty laugh from Sukuna before, you hadn’t. You realized that as he fell into near hysterics over that comment. And, despite yourself, the sound was warm and infectious, making you laugh along with him.
“God, was he your first? That’s the only way I could see anyone thinking Gojo was good at sex, god.” He laughed, taking a drag off his cigarette before dangling it out of the window again.. You raised an eyebrow at that.
“And just how would you know? You get a little close and personal with our boy?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He was laughing, warm and hearty, again.
“Good God no!”He shook his head, “Some of us have standards! No, I don’t have any personal experience with him. But he brags all the time. Or, really, he thinks he brags. In reality, He talks about how bad he is at sex and we all just kinda nod and laugh at him behind his back.”
“Wait, He hasn’t talked to you guys about what happens in our bedroom, has he?!” You asked, a new wave of betrayal overtaking you. Ryomen just gave you a look and you knew the answer.
“Right, forget I asked.” You muttered. 
“Don’t worry Doll,” He assured you, placing a hand on your thigh. You thought your heart might explode at his warm touch. “After tonight, all of his bullshit will just seem like a fucked up nightmare.” You hoped he was right. 
💒💒💒
You were beginning to doubt your decision to bring him to your apartment instead of going to his. It’s not that you were ashamed of where you lived, on the contrary, you knew you had a beautiful residence. The shame came from the fact that this was technically still your shared dwelling with Satoru, and evidence of him still lingered in every corner of this apartment. His things were still here, which shouldn’t have been surprising really, but you were less ready to face it than you thought. 
The good news was Ryomen gave you exactly no time to start to miss your ex. His mouth was on yours almost the moment the two of you were in the door, pulling you close and taking your breath away in a needy kiss. You moaned softly into him, tangling your fingers into his soft pink hair, getting drunk on the scent of pine needles and Marlboro cigarettes. 
He kissed his way from your lips, to your jaw, all the way down to the base of your neck, leaving a trail of purple bruises in his wake. “Bedroom is-”
“I know.” He cut you off. You realized two things at that moment. 1.Sukuna had been to your house before, no doubt with Gojo. and 2. That he had been leading you to the bedroom the whole time. He fumbled for all of two seconds with the door before getting it open, ushering you in and all but pushing you onto the bed. It was in that moment that it hit you just how much bigger than you Sukuna was. 6’4 and made out of pure muscle, he could have truly hurt you if he wanted. 
You would think this would kill the mood a bit but quite the opposite actually. You pressed your thighs together to try and distract yourself from the almost uncomfortable amount of arousal pooling between them. Ryomen notably did not like this, moving to cage you onto the bed. “Come on Y/n, Don’t get shy on me now,” He purred as his hand moved down your body, “We just started having fun.”
You bit your lip as you began to melt under his electric touch. You watched as his hand disappeared under your dress. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers brush against the translucent spot on your panties. Your breath hitched and his smirk only grew.
“Is all of this for me, Doll?” He asked, teasing you through the fabric. You felt your hips unintentionally buck, trying desperately to make more friction. You nodded, maybe a little bit too aggressively for your taste, but it just seemed to encourage him. He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. “Thought so.” He muttered, moving your panties to the side and running one of his thick fingers up your folds, gathering the natural slick forming.
His eyes seemed to glow in the dim moonlight filling the room, taking in even your smallest reaction as he teased you. You whimpered softly at his touch. His gaze held yours firm as his fingers finally made contact with your clit. It was slow at first, sending soft pulses of pleasure through you. He built up a steady pace, applying more pressure and speed as your reactions demanded it. You whined needily, digging your freshly manicured claws into his shoulder blades.
“Ryomen..” You moaned. His name sounded so much prettier falling from your lips than he ever imagined. And he had imagined it.
“Say it again.” He encouraged, applying more pressure to your clit to make you squirm. His free hand found your hips, firmly pressing you into the mattress to keep you still.
“Ryomen, please..” You whimpered, “I need more, please..”
“What’s your rush?” He asked, a finger slipping down to tease at your weeping cunt. “We’ve got all night princess, and I’ve waited for this for too long to rush it.” He chuckled darkly, though he did grant your wish, slipping one of his fingers into you. He curled the long thick digit up, gracing your ever elusive (to Satoru) g-spot. You saw white hot, waves of fiery pleasure coursing through your core. You dug your claws even deeper into his back. He hoped the crescent moons of your nails would still be there in the morning. 
“Fuck, fuck! Ryo..” You moaned, losing yourself in the endorphins. He was persistent in the massaging of the soft part inside of you, and tension was quickly mounting. 
“Ryo?” He all but laughed, “That's new. I think I like it from you though.” He muttered, adding another finger into the mix. Your body tensed, both not ready for and more than excited to accept the intrusion. Your cunt clenched around his fingers as the tensions built inside of you. The string that had been tangling itself in your stomach was ready to snap, as were you. 
Your eyes screwed shut as you braced for your release, only to feel his hand move from your hip to your jaw, his nails digging into your skin just enough to get your attention. “Don’t close your eyes.” Ryomen growled, and you obeyed. “You fucking look at me. I want you to know who made you feel this good.” you whined at his words, but maintained eye contact with him. His blood red gaze was intense, molting hot even. If the inferno in your veins didn’t burn you alive, the incinerator behind his eyes surely would.
“Ryo, I’m so close.” You whined out. You were hit with wave after wave of bliss. Your body reacted to every stroke of his fingers inside of you, and the whirlwind was picking up. 
“Oh yea?” He muttered, with an intense focus that could almost be mistaken for disinterest. “Then cum for me Princess.” It didn’t take long after that. Three more passes from his expert fingers at most before you were overcome with euphoria. Fireworks pulsed through your core, making you far too hot and very sensitive all at once. All the while, Sukuna was finger fucking you through your high, watching as your face contorted with bliss. 
As you came down, you watched him slowly slip his fingers out of your sobbing cunt and into his mouth. He made the most obscene show of sucking his fingers clean, removing them after with a loud pop. 
“You taste so fucking sweet,” He praised, taking your hand and helping you stand up, “Come on, you’re too pretty to be in this ugly dress.”
“Hey!” You protested, “The dress isn’t that bad!” 
“Yes it is.” He said, annoyance quickly mounting as he saw it was a button up back. “It hides you more than it compliments you.”
“Well that doesn’t-Ryomen!” You snapped at him as he ripped the back open, deciding that the buttons weren’t worth the time. “This dress is Fucking Expensive!” 
“Invoice me for it then,” he scoffed, turning you around to face him. He dropped the dress from your shoulders. “There you are,” He hummed, smiling as he pulled you into a fierce kiss. The anger that you held for him ruining the dress quickly dissipated as you melted into his warmth. Fuck it, he was right. It was an ugly fucking dress. 
He slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you impossibly close. Your hands started to wander. You thought back to his tattoos, wondering about just where exactly they stopped. You found your way to the noticeable tent in his dress pants, grinding your palm against it and earning a deep groan from him. The sound went straight to your core, and suddenly it was the only thing you wanted to hear.
You fumbled with his belt, trying to get it undone while also focusing on your kiss. You didn’t get very far though before Ryomen brushed your hands away. He mumbled a soft ‘Fucks sake,’ before just undoing it himself, taking care of his button and zipper while he was at it. You were on your knees before he was finished, earning a smile and nod of approval.
“Well look at you Doll, pretty and smart.” He praised. You swallowed the air in your throat before reaching up to take him out. He sighed in relief once his cock wasn’t constrained anymore, and you bit your lip hard. If you were being honest, You had imagined Sukuna before. Late at night when your fiance was surly out with another woman, you found solace in daydreaming about what his rival's dick would be like. You had not imagined this. 
He was long and thick, almost intimidatingly so. Even at your most generous, you hadn’t imagined this. The tattoos also admittedly caught you off guard, the two black bands around his base standing out against his pale skin. But it worked for you. 
“Like what you see?” Ryomen smirked, never one to be shy. You felt embarrassment set a fire in your chest, despite the face you just looked him in the eyes while he finger fucked you into oblivion. Still, you nodded.
“Pretty cock.” Why was that what you thought to say!?
“Thanks, grew it myself.” He chuckled, his fingers falling to the back of your head, “I think it would look even prettier in your mouth though.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You licked your lips, wrapping your fingers around his base. You gave him a few experiential strokes, before taking the head into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him, eliciting a growl.
“Don’t fucking tease me Y/n.” He warned darkly. You decided to ignore his very clear warning, licking along one of his more prominent veins. You kissed the tip again, opening your mouth to try and suck on just the head again. That didn’t slide this time though, as Sukuna sunk his nails into your scalp and pushed you the rest of the way down his length. You gagged around him, drawing a satisfied moan from him as he fucked your throat.
You scrambled for a few seconds before finding your rhythm. Breathe through your nose, relax your throat, and in no time you were taking him like a champ. You looked up and felt your cunt clench at the sight before you. Ryomens head was thrown back, strands of hair sweat stuck to his forehead, and his eyes twisted shut in bliss. The dim lunar light casted an angelic halo on the sinful scene, and you wondered why you had’t fucked him sooner. 
“God, you feel so good.” He breathed out, “Satorus’ a goddamn moron for giving this up.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you or not, but he was right, and you hummed your approval of the statement. You watched his jaw tighten as the vibrations ripped through him, followed by him pulling you off of his dick. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, quickly crawling on top of you. He didn’t go to even part of that reception just to cum down your throat. He wanted everything you had to offer. You spread your legs for him as his fingers made their way back to your still dripping pussy. He started to work you open again, catching you in yet another passionate kiss. Satoru never kissed you like this.
“You’re fucking soaked still.” Ryomen noted, easily working you open for him. “Think you’re ready for me Doll?” You hummed your response, mentally preparing for this. He tsked at you. “With your words.” He said, the edge in his voice cutting through your brain fog.
“Yes.” You nodded, licking your dry lips. 
“Yes what?” His annoyance was getting more evident.
“Yes, I’m ready for you.” You whimpered. He finally nodded his approval.
“Good girl.” He said, before slowly pushing in. No matter how wet you were, you couldn’t have prepared yourself for this. You felt yourself being ripped apart at the seams, your cunt molding itself to him to accommodate. You took in a sharp breath as he let out a jagged one, hips faltering for just a second as he paused to let you adjust. 
“Jesus fucking christ you’re tight.” He groaned, getting lost in the way your velvety walls clenched around him and tried to pull him in further. You whined out in response.
“Ryo, I don’t think I can fit it all..” You admitted almost shamefully. 
“You can.” He assured you, pushing even further in, “You’re doing so good Princess.” You bit back a squeal, suddenly wanting nothing more than to make him proud. You let out an embarrassing moan as he finally pushed all the way in, but that's ok because he did too. For all the nights that he spent fucking his hand to the thought of you, nothing could have prepared him for how good you actually felt. 
He stilled for a minute, giving you time to fully adjust to his size. You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ok, I’m ready..” You muttered. He chuckled darkly.
“Ready for what Doll?” He asked. You groaned, tired of his bullshit.
“Come on Ryo, please. You know what I want!” you whined.
“I do.” He confirmed, “And I want you to beg for it.” 
“Ryomen please!” you begged him, “Please, I need you to move. I need you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore, I want to feel you ruin me. Make me your whore, please, I want to be destroyed.” GOD Ryomen was lucky he didn’t cum right then and there. That was so much hotter than he thought it would be, and you could feel his dick twitch inside you. 
“If you insist.” He said, setting a brutal pace right off the bat and making you scream. “I’m going to mold this cunt to me, and me alone.” He growled into your ear, “When I’m done with you, I’m going to be the only man you’ll ever want again. No one will make you feel this good again.” He was probably right. The curve of his dick put it at the perfect angle to continuously massage your g-spot, overriding the slight discomfort of him fucking your cervix. He stretched you out so beautifully, you couldn’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this full ever again.
“Tell me, Does he fuck you like this?” he asked, tangling his fingers into your hair to force you to look at him again. “Like the dirty whore you are?” you tried to shake your head no, but his grip was too tight.
“No, not nearly as good.” You whimpered, getting lost in the inferno of desire and pleasure that was overtaking you. Every thrust sent another shock wave of euphoria through you, the waves of bliss threatening to over take you with every roll of his hips.
“Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to wreck this pussy?” You growled into your ear, “Ever since that motherfucker first brought you round us. Showing you off in that tight little skirt, flaunting you around like a brand new toy. I’ve thought of you every night since.” He said, folding you in half and wrapping your legs around his shoulders. The new angle let him sink even deeper into you, sending a new intense wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins and making you see stars.
“Four years is a long time to wait for something,” He mumbled, “But fuck me you’re so worth it. So much fucking better than my hand, or those bitches I’d pretend were you. Never been more thankful for that idiots' mistakes.” He laughed. You weren’t listening. You were driving at 140 miles per hour straight off a cliff and into a grave of dopamine and bliss. Your cunt clenched and wept around him, your orgasm coming faster than you wanted it to. 
“Ryomen, I’m so fucking close.” You whined, nearing the edge of the cliff.
“I know,” He huffed. He could feel it in the way you trembled around him, “Want you to come all over my cock. Come on, make a mess, pretty girl.” He purred, fingers finding your clit and massaging expert circles into it. That was it, the extra pleasure sending you over the edge. You felt like your soul left your body as stars exploded over your eyes. Your blood filled with euphoria, dopamine, and oxytocin. You felt your body stiffen and convulse around him as you were hit with wave after wave of pleasure. 
The way your cunt grabbed him like a vice, pulling him impossibly deeper, coupled with the intoxicating look on your face as you came brought him to his climax. He couldn't have pulled out if he wanted to (Is what he told himself) as he came deep inside you, overflowing your cunt and dripping onto the sheets. Everything stilled for the seconds that followed, both of you desperately trying to catch your breath.
He pulled out finally. He managed to roll to the side before he crumbled, collapsing next to you instead of on top of you. “Holy fuck,” He breathed out, basking in the afterglow with you.
“Holy fuck indeed.” You nodded, not knowing what else to really say. Gojos' sheets were definitely ruined. 
“And you mean to tell me he left you at the fucking altar?” Ryomen laughed in disbelief. “Talk about a fumble.”
“Well, to be fair, it’s never that good with him.” You admitted. You looked over to see Ryomens victorious grin.
“I believe that.” He muttered. Habit overtook you as you moved into the arms of your lover, resting your head on his chest to listen to his racing heart slowly return to normal. He didn’t move away, wrapping his arm around you instead. He kissed the top of your head. It was by far the most gentle act of the night. 
💒💒💒
Ryomen was gone when you woke up. You weren’t surprised, but you did find yourself disappointed, much to your further dismay. You weren’t expecting breakfast in bed or anything, but you were hoping he’d at least stick around long enough for a goodbye. Oh well, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to fuck him. And honestly, the last thing you needed right now was another playboy to fuck around with your heart.
You checked your phone and actually laughed. 12 missed calls and far too many texts, all from Gojo. It must have gotten back to him that you went home with Ryomen last night, and he was running himself ragged trying to “fix” his mistake. As if he could fix it. You deleted the voicemails along with the messages without reading them. You were about to put down your phone when a specific notification caught your eye. New Message, Sukuna. Never one to learn, you opened it immediately. 
Good morning beautiful. Sorry I left so early, work called. I’ll see you soon though ;) 
The sound that left you was truly embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You were ready to make a New Mistake.
609 notes · View notes
gay-wh0re-slut · 6 months
Note
Hiiiiii THERE!!!!!!!!!
I love love loveeeeee everything your writing and would like to that the opportunity to thank you so much for your services! 🫡
I have a request if that’s okay…
Rhea x Fem Reader having had a fling now and then nothing serious besides a kiss or two. Reader has a toxic situationship she keeps going back to where the guy hurts her constantly as in not being faithful, but they still have make up smex in a constant cycle.
Rhea’s finds out about all of this through friends of a friend type situation. She confronts Reader one day to make you leave him. Reader basically confronts that she stays with him cuz he’s a man and she likes that masculine energy for security but there are hardly any good men left so she won’t bother leaving him in search of a new one. Rhea asks like what about a woman? and Reader laughs and says a woman can’t give her what a man can sexually. LOL
Rhea is upsets but sees the challenge..
Idk where I am going with this.. PLEASE, MAY WE GET HUGE STRAP ENERGY DOM RHEA PLEASE 🤭
Thank you so much❤️‍🔥
hehehe you’re welcome soldier🫡
but oh shit oh fuck this is so good…damn i have no words to describe how i feel rn this is crazy good thank you for the request seriously.
after writing: this is soooo incredibly long i’m sorry so get comfy haha
Teacher
rhea x fem!reader
content: talks of a toxic relationship before getting down and dirty with Mrs. Hot Goth Wrestler with a skilled tongue, good fingers and huge strap 😌
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“We have to stop doing this,” she says out of breath.
“Yees,” you moan, “but not now.”
The two of you were in a one stall bathroom backstage, away from everyone. Rhea was feeling you up as she went back to kissing you roughly. Her hand travelled down to the zipper on your pants but you stopped her.
“Oh come on,” she tried to seduce you back into it.
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you pushed her away a bit, “I’m sorry,” you wiped your mouth.
Her whole aura changed when you broke the kiss but she didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do. She didn’t say anything which made you feel worse than you already did.
“I’ll uh… text you later,” you fixed your shirt that she had roughed up.
“Yeah,” she stepped out of your way.
You walked out of the bathroom hanging your head, feeling horrible.
Several months have passed and you are back with your ex, but you’ve been on and off the whole time. You swore you would never date a cheater but when it was good, it was so good. He treated you like a queen by giving you flowers all the time, setting up random dates and the sex was amazing. He worked you out better than anyone else and he knew it too and held it over your head.
It’s only been one time that he’s gone behind your back. You caught him sending pics to “The Pizza Palace”, so you screamed and yelled and cried then left him for a good few weeks before he came crawling back to you.
Your friends begged you not to go back to him but you couldn’t get over how good he was in bed and you were afraid you wouldn’t find anyone else who could love you.
“I’m so sorry baby, I promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry, I love you so so much. I was stupid and I couldn’t see that you were perfect for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so sorry,” he cried.
As soon as you accepted his apology you had ground rules: whenever you were suspicious of his texts, he had to let you look; his location was on at all times; and you needed to know his work schedule.
But once a cheater, always a cheater and somehow he found a way to cheat on you again. You had enough and finally cut ties with him for good, or so you thought.
“Baby please, I’m so sorry, I can’t live without you. You’re my baby, I need you, I won’t do it again,” and you ended up right back in his bed.
This went on for a couple months and Rhea had kept trying to meet up with you again, but you pushed her away. She had no clue what was going on behind closed doors but she was going to find out. So she asked a mutual friend of yours when they went to lunch.
“You didn’t know?”
“She never told me anything,” the wrestler’s face was shocked.
“Oh yeah girl. He’s obviously mentally unwell himself and he’s taking it out on her by cheating and then asking to come back. The only reason she keeps going back is because ‘he’s a god in bed’, ” the friend air quoted.
“My god. No wonder why she’s been avoiding me,” Rhea was upset about the whole thing. Her mind was racing trying to figure out what she could do to help you out.
“I’ve been trying to tell her not to go back to him, but she won’t listen to me,” the friend said insinuating that Rhea could most definitely do something.
You haven’t talked to Rhea in a while, just some brief hello’s here and there as you passed her by. She kept her distance after you basically ghosted her but she couldn’t stay away for long.
“Hey,” Rhea texts you.
“Heyy,” you replied but you were on your couch a couple weeks after you got back with your ex, refreshing the maps for his location every second.
“Wanna get coffee tomorrow?” she asked not wanting to set off any alarming messages that she was basically having an intervention so she could get you alone.
“I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about you,” you weren’t lying, you did miss her but as a friend more than anything else.
“Perfect, 10 okay? At the one near your place?”
“I’ll be there!” you smiled at this small interaction but you couldn’t think about anything other than when he was going to get home.
The morning came and you were sat at a table in the coffee shop when you heard the door open for the australian.
“Hi!” she walked towards you displaying her arms for a hug.
You were engulfed by her muscles as she squeezed, “How’re you?” you questioned knowing something was up because she doesn’t usually hug you.
“Almost broke my clavicle last night but I’m good,” she chuckled rubbing on the bone, “how about you?”
“I’m doing okay,” you couldn’t lie to her, “there’s been some ups and downs but everything is good.”
“That’s okay,” she gestured towards the register.
Both of you waited in line talking about random things, ordered and went outside to sit.
“A little birdie told me you were back with your ex?” Rhea wasn’t one to dance around a subject.
You faked a laugh, “yeah,” was all you could say.
She took a sip, “and how’s that going?”
“It’s… good I guess. I’ve made some rules with him about his whereabouts and texts but nothing too crazy,” you took a drink to hide the awkwardness. You knew that she knew what had happened by the way she asked the question so you didn’t want to bore her with the details again.
“Yeah? Well that’s good, but you really should be trusting of your significant other you know,” her accent was calm but strong.
“I do!”
She threw you a look.
“To a point,” you cleared your throat, “He’s just so…” you balled your fists in front of her, “good.”
She rolled her eyes, “that shouldn’t be the reason that you should stay with him,” she took another sip to let that sit in the air, “there are other people that would kill to be with someone like you.”
“I know, I know. But I like having a man around you know? It makes me feel safer knowing that he’s there,” you smiled but your subconscious knew that it was a fake smile.
“Right,” her tone was stern, “have you even tried to find someone else?”
“Yeah!”
Another look.
“Okay fine, no I haven’t because every time I think I’m done with him and download a dating app, he comes crawling back.”
“Oh my god. You can’t keep going back to him,” her eyes were piercing into yours.
“I know, but he’s so kind and caring when he’s not in someone else’s bed,” you rolled your eyes as you sat back in your chair swirling the cup.
“Well,” Rhea sighed as she mirrored your movements, “have you…ever thought about being with a woman?” again, not one to beat around the bush.
“What!? No. I couldn’t. I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes, let alone another woman,” you said nervously.
“Have you even tried it?”
“Well no, but-”
“Exactly. So,” the tattooed legs crossed, “leave him and find you a woman,” she smirked.
You were taken aback at her bluntness but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Are you…asking me on a date Ripley?”
“Not unless you want me to. As if you haven’t thought about it,” she chuckled.
“No, I mean- I like you but not like that,” you waved away her response. Well, maybe you could be with a woman, you thought. No! No… well…
“Uh huh,” she let you work it out for yourself for a minute before she brought you back in, “let me know the next time he cheats,” she snarls as she stands. “I have to get back to training,” as she pushed her chair in.
You looked at her in confusion at the sudden change in energy, “okay,” you stand and walk over to give her another awkward hug.
Though it was weird, she accepted. Holding you in place, she whispered in your ear, “Trust me, I can treat you much better…in and out of the bedroom.”
You let go of the hug as she smirked at you before she walked away. You watched her put her cup on top of the trash can by the food trays before walking towards her car.
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.
Not even a week passed and he went and cheated on you once more. You cried and screamed again as you finally walked out of the house for the last time. You sat in your car fumbling for your keys as you tried to call Rhea, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you chanted between sobs.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” you sniffed, “Can I come over?”
You could feel her smirking her devilish smile behind the phone knowing she was saying ‘told you so’ to herself, “C’mon,” she said.
You sped over there and banged on the door.
“Damn, chill, the door didn’t cheat on you,” she opened the door but you pushed past her.
“Hey woah,” she closed it, locking it behind her, “sorry about the joke but-”
You threw your wallet and keys on the kitchen table as she followed you in as you cut her off with your finger, “don’t say you told me so because I already know, but you got in my head and now I can get you out,” you dropped your hand.
She confidently leaned herself on the counter, “Well,” she shrugged as she gestured to herself smirking.
“Stop it,” you slammed yourself down on a chair.
“I’m kidding! I am sorry that he cheated on you though…again,” she tried to hide her giggles.
“Rhea please,” you wiped your nose with a napkin that was neatly stacked in the middle of the table, “I know I’m dumb for going back to him but when it was good it was good, okay? It wasn’t just the sex even though it may seem like it,” you broke down again.
She immediately stopped feeling proud of herself and started feeling sad for you. She hated seeing you hurt but she knew that she had to be the voice of reason right now. She sighed as she sat across from you, rubbing your arm, “is there anything you need me to do?”
“Beat his ass?” you joked.
She laughed, “I don’t need a lawsuit, but I would if I could.”
You blew your nose then crumpled up the napkin, “Remember what you said at the coffee shop?”
“When?” she knew exactly when.
“When you hugged me. Did you mean it?”
“Oh…yeah,” she said casually as her muscular arms crossed leaning back in the chair.
“Could you-”
“You wanna do it right now?” her eyes widened, “yeah, no. What we are gonna do,” she stood, “is run you a shower for as long as you need, to get him off of you, use whatever you want in there, and then,” she pulled you out of the chair walking you to her bathroom, “we can talk about what happens next.”
“Okay,” as you stepped inside the bathroom.
You were in there for probably 45 minutes. You stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, your hair dripping with some left over eyeliner stuck on your eyes, but you didn’t care too much.
“Clothes are on my bed,” she shouted from the kitchen before she walked out with two glasses of wine, setting them on the coffee table.
You changed into one of her big tshirts and sweatpants, then joined her on the couch, “Thank you,” you said weakly.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you. Now, did you think about anything specific you wanted to talk about?” she handed you the wine glass.
“Mm,” you took a sip, “I’m not sure how to word this,” you became embarrassed.
“Try your best,” her hand landed on your thigh as she turned to sit criss-cross facing you.
“How does it…work?” was the best you could do.
“How does what work?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
You bit your lips trying to muster up the courage but decided there was nothing left to lose, “sex…with a woman,” your face turned red.
“Oh!” she chuckled gently slapping her hand on your thigh, “the same as with a man but it’s more enjoyable and much hotter,” she winked.
“But there’s no-”
“There is, it’s just… silicone,” now Rhea’s face was a bit red but not for the same reason, “But there’s plenty other ways to get the job done.”
“Oh,” you blinked as your mind tried to figure it out.
She took another big sip, followed by a big sigh, “did you think of anything else? I know today’s been a lot so we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. And you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you need to, plenty of room,” she gave you a sincere smile.
“Not really,” you picked up your legs onto the couch and hugged them, “and thank you, we’ll see what happens,” you finish your wine.
“For sure,” she finishes hers too and gets off the couch. She gestured towards you silently asking if you want another, but you shook your head no, so she took your glass with her into the kitchen.
She came back out and sat back down in the same position.
“Thank you,” you said again.
“For what?”
“For being here.”
“Anytime,” her eyes were staring into yours, twinkling in the sunset light coming from the window. She looked so beautiful in this light, was it because she actually did or because you were heart broken, again, and you needed a distraction? Whatever it was, you made a quick decision.
So you cupped her face with your hand and gently kissed her. She easily fell into it but broke it off gently.
“Are you sure you want to start this? Because I won’t be able to stop,” she was sure of herself.
“Yes,” you tried to kiss her again but she backed away.
“Because I know you’re just doing this to feel as though you’re getting back at him. And I don’t want to be used as a distraction so I need to know if you actually want to go through with this,” she was calm but stern with her words, wanting to make sure you understood.
“Ever since, whatever we had back then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think he was the distraction from you,” the light bulb went off in your head as you said this, because it was true. Rhea always made you feel loved and appreciated no matter what.
Her mouth fell open slightly as she took in this new revelation, “Never thought of it that way,” she cleared her throat.
“So yes, I want to go through with this. Mainly because I want to see if you can keep your promise,” you smirked.
“Ah ah, I didn’t promise anything,” she pointed, “but I can definitely prove it.”
“Then prove it, teach me the ways,” you tried to think of anything else to say but it came out before you could stop it, “of lesbian sex.”
“Please don’t ever say that again,” she scoffed.
“Sorry,” you hid your face.
“You should be, that was weird.”
“Yeah, oops,” you chuckled.
“So, you sure you want to go through with this because,” she cocked an eyebrow and smirked as she shrugged, “I’m pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“Alright alright, calm down,” you smiled putting your hand up to stop her. You took a deep breath and took a second to think about everything, “I want to do it.”
“Finally,” the wrestler breathed as she grabbed your face and smashed your lips together. It wasn’t like you haven’t kissed her before, but it was different this time. There was yearning and lust and you wanted more of it.
Small moans came from the both of you as your hands glided up her bare thighs, prying at the edge of her booty shorts. Her hands moved to your waist to pull you closer but you decided to straddle her instead.
“A little desperate, are we?” she guided your hips down onto her lap.
“Sshhh,” as you kissed her again. Now her hands were gliding on your thighs. After a few moments, her hands found their way under your, well her shirt, and felt up your back pulling you in tighter. You arched your back into her with a low whine. Her nails dug into your back sending shockwaves through your body and directly to your core.
You gently began to grind your hips and she took the opportunity to put her hands on your ass and guide you through it. Moaning into the kisses, you ran your hand through her hair while the other kept your balance on the back of the couch.
She snuck one of her hands to the front of the waistband playing with it, “can I…”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, you were nervous but you’ve never felt safer.
She slowly slipped her hand underneath and began to gently caress your hot center with just a layer of fabric separating her hand from you.
“Shit,” you whined.
“You okay?” she caught your gaze.
“Mhmm,” you bit your lip.
Drawing small gentle circles on your sensitive bud, your hips jerked a bit as you let out a small whimper. You tried to cover it by kissing her again.
“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, “It’s hot.”
You were still weary but thankful she said something. So you nod in response before resting your head on her shoulder. Her pace had gotten faster now and you were riding her hand in perfect unison. “Mmmfuck,” you threw your head back.
You removed your hand from her hair to meet with hers in the sweatpants. You stopped her hand and moved it under the one layer that was blocking her. You removed your hand but she got the message immediately. She ran her fingers over your wet folds picking up what had been oozing out of you before going back to her pace.
You moaned as your head fell back onto her shoulder, breathing heavily. She twisted her head and started to kiss your neck before ever so slightly biting. Your moans became more frequent and the pressure was quickly beginning to rise.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Don’t say it…just do it,” her voice was deep in your ear.
And with that, the pressure released, “Oh GOD,” you yelled as you threw your head back once more. She kept her pace and let you ride it out.
After an about a minute she removed her hand, “you okay?”
You were breathing heavily into her neck, “yeah,” as you sat up.
“Good because we’re not done yet,” and she easily picked you up carrying you to her room and onto her bed. She set you down gently, “totally up to you, but on a scale of one to ten, how rough-”
“Seven,” you blurted out a little too quickly.
“Hm,” she stood above you with her hands on her hips, “so what do you…”
“Oh, uhm,” your face turned redder than it was. You never had this conversation with your ex he just kinda did what he wanted, “I’m… not sure.”
“Do you like when someone talks you through it?”
You thought about it, “yes.”
“Do you like being praised or no?”
You thought again but longer this time, “I’m not sure.”
“We can try both and see what happens,” she said casually, “What about choking?”
“Oh yeah for sure,” you didn’t have to think about that one.
“Okay,” she chuckled, “obviously you’re a pillow princess.”
You acted surprised, ��how’d you know?”
“I could tell,” she laughed. “Are you okay to start again?” her tone became serious.
You readjusted your position, placing your hands in your lap neatly, “Yes ma’am.”
“Ooh, I like that,” she cooed. “Now get comfy, princess,” as she pointed to the pillows behind you.
So you scooted back a bit and laid down on the bed. You watched as she crawled menacingly on top of you. The tattooed hand slid up your torso and to your neck turning your head to the side and holding it in place. She ran her tongue up your neck, sending a shiver through your body. Your hands were carefully placed on her sides just to have something to hold on to.
She kissed down your jaw, to your mouth before making eye contact with you, “Anything he could do, I can do better,” she growled.
You couldn’t say anything you were so turned on now. Never in a million years did you think you would be in this situation. So you smiled devilishly in response.
“Promise,” she tacked on before going back to your neck. She sat up and tugged at the waistband of the sweat pants, “Can I take these off?”
“You can do anything you want,” you finally admitted.
“Don’t tell me that,” she smirked.
“I’m serious,” your tone was stern as you caught her icy blue eyes with yours.
Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “okay,” her voice graveled.
She easily slipped the pants off of you but you took it a step further and took the shirt off too, leaving you in nothing but underwear.
She was surprised but her energy quickly changed. Her eyes filled with hunger as she looked over your body taking in every inch. It didn’t take long for her to spread your legs to begin to kiss on your thighs.
You whimpered at her touch as your hands flew to her hair, holding it out of her way. Kissing her way up your thighs, moving from one to the other with every other peck, she looked at you as she landed one on your soaked center.
You moaned catching her gaze as she smiled into another kiss. You writhed under her as she continued to touch everywhere but where you needed her most. You were over it so you pushed her head away.
“What-”
“Just,” you threw off your underwear as quickly as possible, “fucking go for it, please.”
“I thought I was teaching you?” she joked.
“Please, please, just fuck me,” you begged.
“So desperate,” she said slyly.
“God, please Rhea,” you were basically whining at this point.
“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg,” she smoothed her hands over your thighs.
You did whine a little, gently hitting your fists on the bed, “Ugh! Pleeaase!!”
She scoffed before she dove her head back down. Her tongue smoothed over your wet folds immediately.
You gasped, “fuck, yesss,” as you picked up your legs, folding at the knees.
She held your hips in place as her tongue worked its magic. She hummed into you, causing your body to shiver again at the vibrations. She skillfully flicked her tongue over your clit before lapping you up again.
The noises coming out of you were something you didn’t think would happen but you let them come anyway. Moans and whines filled the room as she continued. The knot inside of you returned, causing you to ride her face.
She smiled into your movements holding you tighter. She kept her pace steady as your hips jerked against her, “shit…ffffuck,” you moaned. Just a few more moments and you were coming once again. You yelled in pleasure as she forced your legs open to stop you from suffocating her, she didn’t stop though, letting you finish out your high.
Once you came down, she kissed her way up to your mouth, “you taste so…” she thought about it, “delicious,” and kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself against her but you didn’t mind. She was right, she was doing everything better than he was.
“I think you’re ready to turn it up a notch, yeah?” she said as she slinked off of you and went to the closet.
You covered your eyes with your hands trying to think of what she meant. You couldn’t believe you were here with her of all people. THE Rhea Ripley, pleasing you, making you feel safe, giving you everything you need and more. You were afraid you were in love with her.
The door clicked open, “Close your eyes,” she said before walking out.
“Okay,” your hands fully covered your eyes now as you heard her walk towards you, then felt her crawl onto the bed above you once more.
“Don’t peek,” she said as she felt you up once more, running her hands over your hot skin. She slid them up your torso and to your breasts, gently running her thumb over your nipples. Your back arched into her touch. She maneuvered herself between your legs, “such a pretty sight.”
Another shockwave went through your body as you heard those words, you didn’t know you liked praise until this moment.
“You liked that, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you tried to remove your hands.
“Nuh uh, I said no peeking,” she started to draw small circles on your clit again with her thumb, “you’ve been such a good girl…”
You whimpered into her touch, arching your back a bit.
“But I’d like to see you,” her tone became harsh, “be a slut,” and she pressed harder into you.
“Fuck,” you whined.
“Good to know you liked that too,” her fingers danced at your entrance before easily pushing inside of you.
You slammed your hands onto the bed gripping onto the sheets as you arched your back, “FUCK,” you screamed.
She slowly pumped her fingers in and out of you holding one of your thighs open. She kept her steady pace watching you squirm at her touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes but you could feel her staring.
“You’re doing so well for me,” she purred.
You moaned at her praise, hearing her deep chuckle in response. She picked up her pace gradually until she was satisfied, and stayed like that for a few minutes.
As more whines fell out of you, you barely noticed her moving into a different position on top of you until she pulled her fingers out, “Look,” was all she said.
So you fluttered your eyes open, “holy fuck,” you breathed as you watched her suck her fingers clean. But what really caught your eye was what she was wearing: a strap.
“Don’t worry, you can take it, easy,” as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. But first she picked up your legs and folded you in half, “You ready princess?”
“Fuck yes,” you groaned.
She smiled as she guided it into you slowly, letting you get used to it.
“Yessss god…Holy fuck,” you moaned when she started to slowly pump in and out of you.
“You okay?” she reassured.
“Never better,” you choked out.
“Thought so,” she smirked. Quickly picking up the pace, “Bet he never made you feel this good, huh?”
“N-never,” your eyes were in the back of your head.
She was now plunging into you at an ungodly pace, “too bad he never got to see how good of a slut you are.”
The praise mixed with degradation was driving you insane, and she was right. He never treated you this well and you loved every second of it and she could tell too. Your tits were bouncing, your eyes were rolled and your legs were shaking. She was hitting you just right, “Oh god, Rhea!” you whined.
She loved hearing you say her name. She was enjoying the view as much as you were enjoying her. The bed began to squeak as she pounded into you. One of her hands snuck its way around your legs and to your neck, gently squeezing around it. Your hand gripped her wrist as you smiled devilishly at her.
“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess,” she huffed.
“Go…faster,” you choked out.
“Such a fucking whore,” she barked, but she grabbed your calves with either hand and pushed your legs father down, completely folding you in half. She took a deep breath and began to pound into you so hard and so fast that you lost your breath.
“YES,” you screamed and after a few more seconds, “FU-U-U-UCKK!!” and you came again. But that didn’t slow her down.
She kept her insane pace, “C’mon baby…one more,” she demanded, “I know you got it in you.”
Whimpering at every push into you, it didn’t take long to the pressure to rise again, “OH FUCK, YESS…GOD, RHEA,” and once again, you came but this time your whole body shook and your legs fell weak under her.
She finally slowed her pace and gently pulled out of you. Your body fell limp as she slid off of you smiling and breathing heavily.
You caught your breath, “four times,” you rested your hands on your forehead, “four…times.”
“I never break my promises.”
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lustkillers · 4 months
Text
。゚・ ୨୧ me and the devil.
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⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - you've devoted your life to the man above, the one you call your savior. you resisted the temptation of man, yet there was this void that needed to be filled. perhaps the devil you call 'jack' can fill that very void.
⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - jack thurlow x fem!reader
✶ c.w. - nsfw, dom!jack, sub!reader, religious!reader, ooc jack? reader is described wearing a dress, p in v, couch sex, corruption kink, virginity loss, religious imagery, slight sadism, creampie, overstimulation, humiliation, fingering, degradation, exhibitionism? (let me know if i missed anything!)
⊹₊ ⋆ note - happy new years from me to you! enjoy the start of 2024 with a couple of fics/blurbs or however you wanna call them! love u all <3
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a silver, dainty cross sat on top of your chest as you typed away on the computer across the broken cubicle of the man you called the devil.
jack thurlow was his name, and you were punished by god himself for the sins you've done when you were younger. now, it caught up to you, and you hated it. what sucked more was that the border between his cubicle and yours was torn down, so every time you looked up, his face would be there. you knew that hate was a strong word, but you had to say it. you had to say:
"i hate you." you mumbled, a stern look on your face. but that look only looked stupid in jack's eyes. he thought it was a pathetic attempt in trying to stand your ground, and it only fueled you more.
he only raised an eyebrow, looking at you with the same monotone look he always had. “you tell me that every day.” he replied, making you grip the bottom of your pretty white dress in anger.
"i swear to—"
"who are you swearing to, huh?" he cut you off, making you whimper a little in response.
that shut you up immediately, making you fiddle with the ends of your dress. as much as you didn’t want to talk back, jack was making it harder and harder. he knew how to push your buttons, and wasn’t afraid to do so. he’d always have this one goal: to break you.
you were the office's 'pretty little thing,' a running "joke" that the men in the office would partake in. they would talk about how "innocent" and god ridden you were, and they all wanted to corrupt your innocence, your faith. jack had never partook in such activities, let alone ever converse with the men in the office, except for when his coworkers would ask if he'd like a cup of coffee, he'd always decline.
"answer me." he pushed the subject on you, and just as you were deciding what to say, the clock hit eight pm. you only sent him a soft smile, your plump, pink lips curving upwards.
you fluttered your eyelashes at him, tilting your head. "have a good night, jack!" you were packing all your stuff, your breasts bouncing a bit, making the cross necklace that sat on your chest move along. that alone made his eyes avert to your breasts, eying the way they move.
he had thought how you were a woman of god, yet wearing skimpy clothing that made everyone at the office have a hard-on. just how naive were you?
however, it was also time for jack to clock out as well, him falling along. the rain outside poured harder, and he was trailing behind you as you exited the building, your dress hiking up every step in your walk. he stared for quite sometime, before being broken out of his thoughts.
"i'd hate to be a bother, but could you drive me home, jack?" you asked so sweetly, it was almost intoxicating to him. he wanted to say 'no' so bad, yet something about you captivated him. it was a sick feeling in his heart, watching as you stood there so innocently, holding a pretty pink umbrella.
he stared at you for a few seconds, before letting out a sigh. "sure."
he didn't know how he ended up here, but he was now in your apartment, photo frames of you and your family spread along the wall, including statues and photo frames of god. the last supper was hung on top of the kitchen frame, facing the dining table, which only had five chairs surrounding the rectangular table.
you were babbling about your home and god, but that was all white noise. your babbling was just nonsense to him until you had said that you'd never had virginity taken. a bit tmi, but you said it so casually.
"you've never had a boyfriend?" he blurted out, making you stop talking.
"i never said that," you replied, your doe eyes looking into his blank ones. "i said that i never had sex." the word sex made you cringe, but you had to state your point.
"how come?" he inquired, a bunch of thoughts swarming his head, and they were not pure ones.
a moment of silence exchanged between them, before you quietly spoke up. "i'm saving myself for marriage." ah, the classic response. yet, it boggled him. he knew that you were a naive and kind girl, but never realized how dedicated you could be. "i want to make sure that my first time is meaningful with the person i'm going to spend the rest of my life with."
he slowly tilted his head, "but aren't you curious?" he inched towards you, making you stand there, your face slightly burning.
"e-excuse me?" you questioned. you knew exactly what he was talking about, and you were curious. but you knew where your loyalties lied, with the man upstairs.
he let out a scoff, "don't act stupid. you're not five years old. you know exactly what i'm talking about."
you felt your core pulse with eagerness, and it hurt. a strange sensation pooled between your thighs, and your breathing quickly increasing with every step he took towards you. maybe you would risk faith for him.
he placed his calloused hand on your hips, tracing down to your ass, making you jump from his touch. he left goosebumps all around your arms, your pupils dilating by the second. he had this effect on you, and you hated it. you hated how the sacred photos were staring you both at this very moment.
within seconds, his lips collided with yours, making you yelp. you automatically melted into his touch, your knees buckling at the moment. his kisses were harsh, and you couldn't keep up with it.
as he kissed you, his hands traveled to your soaked panties, a whimper escaping your lips, followed by a gasp. "jack..." you breathlessly sighed, your hand on his wrist, but not stopping him.
his rough hands pushed you lightly onto the couch, him hovering above you. jack's hand pulled your panties to the side, his hands covered with your slick. his thumb rubbed your clit, jolting your body upwards, closing your thighs together.
"oh, please! jack!" you cried out, the feeling twisting knobs in your stomach.
he pulled your thighs apart, slapping the inside of your right thigh. "don't." he whispered, his lips millimeters away from yours.
his fingers plunged into your soaking cunt, making you squeal at the uncomfortableness that plowed inside of you. he went at a medium to fast pace, the uncomfortableness turning into moments of pleasure, but it made you squirm away, the feeling too much.
"aw," he cooed, "what? can't take my fingers?" he mocked, holding your thighs apart. you cried out, feeling the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone.
"please, please, please, jack!" you moaned out, "i need to- i need to-"
you didn’t know what was happening, but your thighs shook and you were seeing white. before you knew it, you came undone by his fingers.
the feeling of you tightening on his fingers made his cock twitch, straining against the fabric of his jeans. he was painfully hard, and he needed to fill you. his pants were unzipped and his cock was free from the blockage of fabric. his cock prodded at your entrance, making you look down with eyes slightly widened.
"no, no, no... that won't fit..." you whispered, scared of his cock inside your tight walls.
jack looked up at the cross hung up in front of the couch, letting out a cocky smile. "i think god will let it fit, don't you?"
you hummed in response, but eventually nodded.
he entered your wet, tight cunt, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him. you let out a wail, the pain searing at your core. he was still inside, letting you adjust to his cock. "you ready f'me, hun?"
you nodded, quietly hissing as he pulled out and plunged back in. it was repeated thrusts over and over again, your pain soon turning into pleasure. he laughed to himself over the fact that you were so in touch with god, yet committing an act of blasphemy in front of him.
you let out whines and moans, the cross between your chest bouncing up and down from the thrusts. you clawed at his chest as he pounded into you, over and over again.
"look at you," he leaned up against your ear, "getting fucked in front of god." his words sent you into a spiral, drawing you closer to the edge. you moaned at his words, but you wished you didn't. it was all so wrong... but it felt so right.
tears welled up in your eyes as the euphoric feeling happened again, "i-it's happening again, jack! oh, please..." you whimpered, your legs trembling again.
"cum for me. cum for your god." he groaned out, cumming into your wet cunt. the feeling made your stomach feel full, a whine drawing from your lips as he pulled out, watching the white fluid drip down your pussy and onto the black couch.
you were definitely going to repent for your sins.
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