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underdark-dreams · 2 months

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This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog.

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least.

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest.

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery.

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.”

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship.

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find.

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short.

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes.

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster.

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand.

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking.

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures.

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression.

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself.

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable.

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years.

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page.

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss.

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

#spicy #rolan x tav #tiefling ruts #eventual smut #bg3 rolan #female tav #heat/rut cycles #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tiefling biology

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sebastianstanisahotmf · 6 months

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Forbidden fruit

Steve Rogers x Fem!reader

A/N Hey guys I'm re-posting all my fics. Also all mistakes are my own and comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated xoxo

18+ MINORS FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH (I WARNED YOU)

Summary Your dad's best friend, Steve pays you a visit. (idk how to summarise this)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff, Unprotected sex (use protection because you're not fictional), daddy kink, squirting, spitting, the word slut used like once or twice and one slap.

You weren’t expecting anyone today. Between your dad being at work and the lack of plans on your part you didn’t expect the loud knocks on the door at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. You cautiously tiptoed over to the door and looked through the peephole. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was Steve. You opened the door with a smile and tried not to stare at the man in front of you. After all he was your dad’s best friend.

“Hey darlin’ is your dad in?” Steve questioned while looking you up and down.

You were wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt that belonged to your dad. You were home all day so you didn’t bother to put nicer clothes on.

“N-no” you stuttered trying not to focus on the wetness that is now soaking through your panties.

“He told me he wasn’t at work today” Steve said while walking into the kitchen to help himself to a beer.

“He said something about an emergency. I’m not sure though I wasn’t listening properly” you replied.

“I thought you were a good girl” Steve replied with a smirk.

You could feel your cheeks heating up with the praise.

“I-I was in the shower when he told me”

I wish I was there Steve thought as he looked at you hungrily.

“Actually I was here to see you princess” Steve said while watching your face closely.

“me?” you questioned.

“yes. I wanted to know if you meant to send me the photos of your pretty tits and the video of you playing with your pretty pussy.”

Oh my fucking god y/n you thought to yourself. “o-oh I-I’m really sorry Steve t-they weren’t meant to be sent to you.”

“who were they meant for then? Because they better not have been for a boy who doesn’t know how to treat a girl like you right.” Steve said bitterly. “Have you had sex with him before?” you nodded slowly watching Steve’s face for his reaction. “how many times has he made you cum?”

“well...” you replied looking at the floor.

“You’re joking. He had a pretty thing like you at his fingertips and he didn’t make you cum once. I think we should make another video to show your friend so he knows how to treat a girl like you.”

“I-I don’t think we should do this,” you replied.

“He’ll be home in about 45 minutes. That’s more than enough time to get those sexy legs of yours quivering and you screaming my name like a prayer.”

All you could do was whimper in response as Steve stepped closer to you. He brought his hand up to your face and brushed his thumb over your lips. You opened your mouth, and Steve pressed his thumb onto your tongue. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked, which elicited a deep moan from Steve. He removed his thumb from your mouth and softly grasped your chin to make you look at him.

“Before we do anything, I want to set some rules,” he said sternly.

“O-okay,” you whimpered.

“Firstly, I need to know if you know what the traffic light system is.”

“I, umm, I know what it is.”

“Good girl. I want you to use it at any time, especially if you don’t like something that I’m doing or if you just want to slow down. I don’t care about anything but your well-being. Do you understand?” he questioned in a serious tone.

“Okay,” you replied while crossing your legs.

“Secondly, I’m going to have my way with you, but if you disobey me, I will have to spank you. And most importantly, you are to call me daddy and only daddy. Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” you almost whispered.

“Good girl,” he growled.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against his chest.

“No bra?” he questioned.

You shook your head. You put your left hand on his chest and your right one on his cheek. He leaned down, and you reached up to meet his lips. It started off tame until Steve licked across your lips. You instantly opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fought for dominance, a fight that would always be won by Steve.

He moved his hands to your ass and told you to jump.

You pulled back. “Are you sure?” you questioned.

Steve looked at you like you were crazy. “Did I stutter? I said jump. So you’re gonna jump, and I’m gonna carry you to your bedroom, and then I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. Better than any guy your age can.”

You decided that Steve didn’t care and jumped. He caught you and wrapped your legs around his waist. You started to kiss him again as he made his way upstairs with you. Luckily you had left your bedroom door open do all he had to do was kick it so you both could fit through the doorway. He dropped you on your bed and then started to strip his clothes off. However, you were visibly disappointed when he didn’t take his tight boxers off. You could see his bulge and it looked too big to be real.

“see something you like?” he said with a smirk on his face. Then, he looked you in the eyes and said “strip. I want everything off.”

“ok daddy” you replied whilst taking your clothes off with shaky hands.

Once you got your panties off, Steve took them out of your hand and put them on top of his pile of clothes.

“they’re mine now”

All you could do was whimper in response.

“lay back” he ordered.

You did as he said and then he laid down on his front between your legs. He grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around his head.

He looked up at you and said, “I want you to suffocate me with your pussy. I mean it, if I die then I’ll die a happy man. Also, I want both hands in my hair. They move, I stop. Do you understand?”

“y-yes daddy,” you replied a shiver running down your spine.

You buried your hands into Steve’s soft strands of hair and pulled which made him groan.

He leaned forward and you tightened your legs. He smiled to himself before he dived in. He started with long languid licks from your hole to your clit. Making sure to leave nowhere untouched by his tongue. He licked into your pussy while his thumb swiped over your bundle of nerves.

You pulled hard on his hair making him groan once again. He shook his head so he could get deeper and decided to change his tactics.

He rubbed two fingers up and down your wetness, pushed them inside and curled them. The moan you let out made Steve grind his hardness into the mattress. He started to suck on your clit and you pulled as hard as you could on his hair.

“OH FUCK DADDY.” You screamed. “I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum.” You chanted.

Steve carried on what he was doing. Well he had no choice. Your legs were so tight around his head now that he couldn’t move. He couldn’t be in a better position if he tried. It was like being in heaven.

You let out an earth shattering squeal as you came. Steve carried on as your legs quivered and your hands tried to push his head away. The overstimulation feeling like too much. Steve added another finger and curled them hard against your g-spot. He got into a rhythm of harshly thrusting his fingers in and out of you while he sucked as hard as he could on your clit.

Then, a weird pressure started to build. One that you had never felt before. It felt like you needed to pee.

“daddy it feels weird. Daddy I’m gonna cum gonna cum again.” You shouted.

He carried on with his movements and then suddenly he pulled his fingers out of you. He continued you roughly rub two fingers across your clit even as you writhed and your legs shook. He put an arm across your waist as he continued his ministrations.

Then suddenly you came. Your release squirted out of you while Steve continued to rub your swollen and almost painful bundle of nerves.

“DADDY!” You squealed and then you shouted, “YELLOW.” The feeling was pleasurable but it felt too much. You just needed everything to slow down.

Steve removed his hand and put his other one on your cheek as his thumb stroked the skin under your eye.

“Are you ok baby? Do you want to slow down or stop?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I just want to slow down. It just got a little too much. I can go again now. I-it’s just that I needed a break.” You breathlessly replied.

“Ok baby but if its too much just tell me. I won’t be mad.”

“ok daddy.”

Steve leaned down and whispered “good girl” into your ear making goose bumps form all over your body.

“Daddyyyyy.” You whined. “I need you”

“what do you need baby?” he said while smiling softly at you.

“I need you inside me. Please please daddy!”

“Good girl. Such. A. Good. Girl.” Steve punctuated each word with a kiss.

He started to kiss from your lips to your neck where he started to kiss and bite you leaving a trail of marks. You tangled your hands into his hair, pulling on the strands.

Steve groaned as he grinded his erection into your leg. He kissed down to your breasts where he sucked your left nipple into his mouth. He bit down on it which made you groan. He then switched his attention to the other nipple.

Once he felt like your nipples had had enough attention, he started to kiss his way back up to your lips.

He sat back on his legs and started to remove his boxers. As he pulled them down his legs, his large cock sprung up and laid flat against his stomach. The red tip was leaking a steady stream of precum.

You sat up and reached out for Steve’s cock and grasped it. You started to pump his cock up and down occasionally twisting your hand as you reached the sensitive head whilst using his precum as lube. He let out a loud groan.

You got closer so that you could lean down and take his member into your mouth. You sucked harder as you got to the tip. Once you had a steady rhythm, Steve put a hand on either side of you head and started to fuck your mouth.

“If you need me to stop just tap on my thigh twice” He gritted out.

He held your head down so that your nose was buried in the hairs at the base of his cock. Then he pulled back and carried on thrusting into your mouth. As he got close to cumming, he pulled out and picked you up.

Steve laid you down on your back and then kneeled between your open legs. He shuffled closer and grabbed his cock. He started to run the tip up and down your folds.

“Daddy please. Fuck me please daddy please!” you pleaded desperately.

“ok, ok, baby” he said looking at you with lust blown eyes.

He grabbed his member and pushed it inside you. You moaned and you arched your back as he slowly entered you. Steve stilled for a few seconds to let you get used to his size.

“Steve please!” you begged, desperate for Steve to pound you into the mattress.

“what did you call me?” Steve snarled and slapped you around your face.

You moaned and clenched around him making him hiss.

“sorry daddy sorry I just want you to fuck me. PLEASE!” you pleaded.

“you want me to fuck you really hard do you?” Steve said as you nodded your head. He chuckled and then put his hand around your neck squeezing gently. “ok then I’ll fuck you but don’t expect me to stop you slut.”

Steve started to pound into you. His hips slapping against yours while his balls slap against your ass. His thrusts were quick and sharp not allowing you any time to move away.

Steve grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders. He leant down and you were practically folded in half. What he did next surprised you. Steve used his spare hand to hold down your jaw while he spat into your mouth. He removed his hand and you automatically swallowed and opened your mouth again.

“Such a fucking slut wanting my spit. Dirty girl.” Steve said while spitting into your mouth again.

You swallowed. Then, Steve snaked the hand that he used to open your jaw down to your clit and started to rub it quickly. Your legs started to shake and your back arched off the bed.

“Are you gonna cum my dumb slut?” you nodded. “Tell daddy. Tell him you’re a dumb cumslut” Steve started to thrust faster which you didn’t know was possible.

“I-I’m a-a cumslut. D-daddy’s cums-slut. I’m gonna cum daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed while your legs shook and the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grew.

“that’s it good girl” Steve groaned. “good girl, such a good girl for daddy.”

That’s when the band inside you snapped and you came for the final time. Your last released squired out of you and drenched Steve’s cock and thighs.

“good girl. Such a good cumslut.”steve moaned his thrusts losing their rhythm. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum”

“daddy cum inside me please daddy please. Want your cum inside me. Please!”

That was it for Steve. He was a goner. His hips stilled as his spend pumped inside you.

You both stayed like that for a while until Steve suddenly got up. You whined at the loss of contact but your attention was now on Steve picking up your phone.

“Open it please baby. I want to send a video of my spunk dripping out of you to that little shit who thinks he deserved you”

You whimpered at his possessive tone and took your phone out of his hand to put the password in. Steve then clicked on the camera and took a video of your still pulsing hole which had his spend leaking out of it.

Steve stopped the video and sent it to your friend. Then he laid on top of you with his head on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

You both stayed like that for a while until your phone rang. Steve rolled over beside you with a groan and you picked up your phone.

“shit, it’s my dad.” You said as you answered the call. “Hey dad what’s up?”

“Nothing sweetheart I’m just calling to say I’m gonna be home 30 minutes late today.”

“o-ok I’ll see you later. Bye dad, love you”

“bye love you too.”

You put the phone down and looked at Steve with a smile on your face. “we have an extra 30 minutes”

“good. Now I can take care of you the way you deserve.” Steve picked you up and took you to the bathroom down the hallway.

He sat you on the toilet so you could pee while he went back into the bedroom to take the sheets off your bed. After you were finished in the bathroom, you called Steve back in. He picked you up again and placed you on the counter.

“where are the towels?” Steve asked.

“in the cupboard under this counter.” You said, smiling softly at Steve.

“ok then darlin’. You get the shower going and I’ll get a change of clothes and towels ready before I join you.” He smiled and then slapped your ass when you walked over to the shower.

You yelped in response but carried on with the task you had been given. Once the shower was to your preferred temperature, you got under the spray and got your hair wet.

Just as you were about to reach for your body wash Steve had entered the shower and came up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your hair. You turned around in his arms and leaned up to kiss him.

Then you reached out for your dad’s shower gel and squirted some of it on a loofah. Then, you thoroughly cleaned Steve’s body and then his hair. Once you had finished, Steve decided to return the favour.

These simple acts felt intimate but you knew you couldn’t have a relationship with Steve. It was like he was forbidden fruit since he was your dad’s best friend. How would your dad react to that?

After Steve had finished cleaning your body and hair, you both got out of the shower. Steve decided had that you didn’t need to walk yet.

He put you down once you reached the bedroom and then you both started to get dressed which gave you an opportunity to look Steve over and appreciate his chiselled body.

“you’re staring baby” Steve said while laughing.

Your cheeks started to heat up again but that was short lived since Steve dragged you back into bed so you could cuddle. Your head was on Steve’s chest while his arm was around you and your leg was thrown over his waist.

Your peaceful moment was torn apart by the sound of a key in the front door. You and Steve jumped out of bed and started to panic

“hey its OK, I’ll quickly go downstairs and tell your dad that you was getting changed. Ok?”

“ok I’ll wait a few minutes before coming down stairs then” you agreed.

“good girl” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing you on the lips and then on your forehead.

He ran downstairs and into the kitchen to pick up his beer and talk to your dad. All this happened while you were still thinking about what you and Steve had just done and how it would change your relationship.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier @nicoline1998enilocin

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #Marvel #Mcu #Steve Rogers x reader fluff #Steve Rogers x reader smut #Fluff #Smut #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers smut #Captain america #Captain america x reader #Captain america fluff #Captain america smut #Chris evans x reader #Chris evans smut #Chris evans fluf

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margotw10bis · 5 months

Text

Crashing On Crush. JJK 3 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.4k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: sexual tension; alcohol consumption; make out in public; oral sex (f. receiving); handjob

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God must have heard your silenced prayers because a cup of coffee is floating in front of your face. You look up and meet Namjoon's soft brown eyes. You take the life-saving beverage and appreciate the delicious taste.

"Oh God, you don't know how much I needed it! Thank you Namjoon"

"No offense but you did look like you needed it" he jokes

You sigh, knowing that he's probably right. It's been eight days since you and Jungkook kissed. Eight fucking days and you haven't heard from him. No text, no call. Nothing. If work - which is so interesting and gratifying - keeps your mind busy at day, alone in your apartment at night you have no distraction. You just think over and over again, replaying the night in your head to spot what you've missed and could explain why he hasn't contacted you. So, yeah, you haven't slept very well the past week.

"Uhm, Y/N" Namjoon seems embarrassed, he clears his throat to pull himself together. "I was thinking, uhm, if you are free tonight, we could have dinner"

His red cheeks are so cute, your heart melts. Namjoon has been nothing but kind and sweet towards you. And it's not the first time you think 'I wish he were my crush, so I wouldn't be stressed about radio-silence Jungkook'. But you know damn well that your mind and your heart are full of a man with lip piercing and tattooed arm... However, you can't wait forever for Jungkook to pay attention to you - or can you?

This dinner will be a great opportunity to think about something else and to get to know Namjoon better.

"Sure!"

The blond man sighs in relief, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Great, uhm, let's meet after your shift at the entrance door"

You nod and watch him leave, not without almost hitting a large plant pot which makes you laugh. Cute.

At seven pm, you exit the gallery to wait for Namjoon in front of the building. However, you certainly didn't think you would meet this person. You halt your movement by astonishment. Jungkook is here. Right in front of you. And you have mixed feelings about that. Obviously, you are very happy to see him because, in fact, you missed him. But you are also angry with him for being quiet during a whole week... You have no idea what he is doing here. Well, you know he is probably here to talk to you but to say what? That he doesn't want to see you again? That he wants to kiss you again? So you stay silent, waiting for him to speak. And he does:

"Hi, Y/N"

"Hi"

You wait but he doesn't say anything.

"What are you doing here?" You ask after few seconds of unbearable stillness that is the exact opposite of your harsh heartbeats.

"I wanted to invite you to dinner"

What the fuck? You can't help a disdained laugh. You have been waiting eight fucking days and he just shows up at your work like nothing happened! You are so mad right now but why does you heart soften at the thought he wants to spend some time with you?

"I already have something set up for tonight" Your voice is harsher than you want and you kind of feel bad when you see the disappointment in Jungkook's eyes.

He bits his bottom lip and this simple act reminds you of how good his lips feels... You shake your head to not think about it.

"I wanted to call you but I didn't have time" Jungkook says lowly

"Yeah, sure" You reply, annoyed

"Actually, I spent the week at my parents for my grandpa's funeral" His voice is not filled with reproach but with a will of explanation.

You gaps and immediately feel horrible to have treated him so coldly. Your eyes soften and you put a hand on his shoulder to confort him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Jungkook, I didn't know. Are you okay?"

"He has been sick for a while so we were prepared, but it was hard for my mum. I'm sorry, I should have at least sent you a text"

You can see in his doe eyes and hear in his voice the guilt. You shake your head.

"No, you don't have to apologize, I totally understand. You needed to focus on your family. Please don't feel bad"

You want to hug him so bad when you see the sadness on his face. You don't really know what to say or what to do to erase his pain but when Jungkook looks into your eyes, he knows how you wish to console him and his heavy heart feels lighter. So many words are running through his mind, so many things he would like to say to you. Like the fact that he has been thinking about you the past few days, that he has wished you were there with him to hug him, that he has been fucking missing you each fucking minute.

You open your mouth to say something but you are cut off by Namjoon joining you.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks you cheerfully

You are aware of the sudden tension between the two men. Jungkook's jaw clenches and his eyes narrow. 'Him again', he thinks. He wonders if the guy is now your boyfriend, if he has kissed you while he was gone, which makes him regret even more to not have contacted you. Now he is pissed off because at first, he thought that you having plans was a lie to not see him but it's way worse that you actually have plans. With another man. A man you have seen all week.

"I-Namjoon and I are going to eat" you start, embarrassed, blushing hard before turning towards your colleague "if it's okay with you, Jungkook could join us?" You try

Well, that was not what Namjoon had in mind. But what could he say now? No? He cannot refuse so he swallows the sword in his throat and he answers a not-so-conceiving 'sure'. And the three of you head to the Korean barbecue restaurant.

———

Saying that there is tension in the air is an understatement. The meat grilling is quite the only sound coming from your table. Seeing the two men side by side, you realize they couldn't be more different. Namjoon, wearing a white shirt and light grey slacks, is a very sweet boy, and very cute with his dimples. His glasses makes him look smarter - even though he is the smartest person you've ever met - and professional. Definitely the type every parents would love to have as son-in-law. On the other hand, Jungkook is the opposite, the perfect example of what a 'bad boy look' is. He is not a bad boy in fact because you can see the kindness in his so pretty eyes but he is surely intimidating. He always wears dark and baggy cloths. His piercing and his tattoos enhance his B boy vibes, but they also make him so fucking hot.

Jungkook and Namjoon haven't talked and you feel ill at ease, waddling on your seat. You clear your throat to save the night:

"Let's cheer"

You smile and pull up your glass in the most cheerful way possible, hoping that it will give rise to a better mood. But it doesn't. The two men click their glass but they still don't speak. You sigh in disappointment...

"So, Jungkook, right?" Finally says Namjoon "What do you do for living?"

You send a grateful gaze at your colleague.

"I'm a graphic designer" Jungkook answers politely but a little bit coldly, not sharing any more details. "What about you? What do you do exactly?"

"I'm the owner's assistant. I help him to supervise everything: the exhibitions, the contacts with the artists, the communication, the staff. I'm also in charge of training new recruits, that's why I've spent a lot of time with Y/N these days"

Jungkook grins, he knows damn well that this Namjoon guy wanted to snap at him. He sips on his beer, fantasying how satisfying it would be to kiss you again, like the last time, in front of Namjoon. He really has to behave to not put his hand on your thigh. It's even harder when you are so pretty in your pink a-line dress with small puff sleeves.

"Hey, Y/N, we could have a last drink at Danbam, what do you think?" Jungkook asks suddenly

You choke on your spit, blushing hard. Last time you were in this bar was for your make-out session with Jungkook. And the little sparkle of cockiness in his eyes proves you he meant to tease.

"I, uhm, I don't think I want to drink more than this tonight" you say cautiously

Namjoon grabs his chopsticks to gather some beef and puts it on your plate. The kind gesture makes you smile. At the same time, it makes Jungkook even more irritated. Yet, luck is on his side because a couple of minutes later, Namjoon receives a call: his boss requires him immediately. He wanted to spend time with you, get to know you because since your first day, he has found you so sweet and beautiful and smart and passionate. Since your first day, he has had a crush on you that only kept growing day by day. With a huge regret, he tells you goodbye and leaves you with Jungkook.

"So, do you go out with him a lot?"

Jungkook couldn't help but asking you. He feels so jealous, he doesn't even recognize himself. What are you doing to him?

"No, actually it was the first time"

"Good"

You turn your head to Jungkook with an abrupt movement. Your mouth is opened by surprise, questioning him silently about the meaning.

"I want to kiss you again" Jungkook says simply

His words provoke a whole ardent fire in your body. You want it too. So fucking much. You miss his lips, his hands on you. You miss feeling him on your skin - kissing him one time isn't enough. You want to do it again. You want more.

"Do it" you manage to whisper

It's enough for Jungkook to blend your lips together. The kiss is stronger, rawer than the last one. He is hungry and maybe a little angry. When the little moans he loves so much return to life, he smirks. He wants to kiss you like Namjoon nor any other men can. And he does. There is no word to describe how much you love his mouth. You wish the moment could last forever, you never want to be lips apart. But humans are not perfect and they do need to breath so you distance your face just enough to catch your breathe.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Jungkook asks

You know it's not just a ride home. It's an implicit question: do you want more? Fuck yeah.

You nod and Jungkook smiles. He looks happy and relieved. He leaves a soft kiss on your inflamed lips and grabs your hand.

———

You mostly stay silent in the car. It's not a weird or uncomfortable silence but just a calm silence, full of promise for what will happen next. You can't deny that your heart beats loudly and your hands are a little shaky. Jungkook remarks and intertwines yours fingers, saying with no words that everything is fine and you don't have to be stressed. But how can you not when you will spend the night with your crush? Your - two now - kisses proved you that you have feelings for him. Strong feelings.

After you opened your door and took off your shoes, Jungkook and you stay, once again, in silence. You are looking everywhere except at him, feeling so nervous. It has been more than one year since you last had sex, and all the times you had before were with your boyfriends. However, Jungkook is not your boyfriend, your relationship is... undetermined. You also wonder if he finds you attractive enough, and if you will be good enough in bed. All these thoughts make your hands sweaty.

But Jungkook gets closer and cups your red cheeks with his big and warm hands, making you look into his black doe eyes. They are so soft, so shiny - just like the billions of stars in the sky at night. They are so beautiful. Everything in Jungkook is beautiful.

"Hey, we don't have to do anything" he says gently "We can have sex, or not. We can do other things than having sex. Or we can just talk. Don't pressure yourself"

Your heart melts at his consideration. He is so nice, so sweet that you are falling in lo... No! No, it's too soon, you don't know much about him even after hours spent on his Instagram. It's just your arousal speaking, it messes up with your brain.

You take the time to look at Jungkook and you can't help but imagining what's underneath his black bomber jacket. You remember this one pic from Instagram of him at the beach, shirtless. His 'I know I make your panties wet' look has never been more accurate. Even right now, you are feeling horny.

He leans down and kisses you. At first, gently but the kiss is getting rougher. You instantly feel your pussy clench and moan at its emptiness. Your hands running through Jungkook's hair pull him closer and invite him to kiss you deeper if it's even possible. His own hands move all over your body: your hair, your neck, your back, your waist and your ass. He squeezes the latter and a small groan from you tells him you love it. Actually, you love every single of his touch on your body.

Your hands are struggling to take off his jacket but manage to do it. You want to feel closer, better. Without this barrier, you can appreciate his hard muscles. Gosh, it feels so good under your fingertips.

Jungkook leads you to your couch and puts you on his lap without breaking the kiss for a second. You are completely high on his touch, you can't think straight - not that you really care. Between your legs, you can feel his hard cock pressing on your covered and wet pussy. A moan of pure delight escapes your mouth and you press down to enhance the touch. You slowly begin to move your hips back and forth to release some of the urge of friction. Jungkook grabs your ass to control your move and you love it. You love how he uses your body to please himself.

But it's not enough. You need to feel his skin. You don't know if you said it or if Jungkook can read in your mind but he halts the kiss for just a couple of seconds in order to take off your dress. His intense eyes discover your matching white bra and panties, so pure, so innocent. It makes him crazy because the horniness visible on your face is far from innocent. He leans down and places his head between your boobs, kissing your skin. Your body is on fire. Your head rolls back - which makes your moans huskier - and you pull on his black hair by pleasure and he smirks.

You are so hot, so beautiful, he doesn't want any other men to touch you. He wants to mark you to make you his but he also knows that a huge hickey on your neck will not be great for your career. So he decides to put his mark somewhere only him can see. You feel his mouth sucking on the skin of your left breast, close to your heart. It hurts a little but it's a delightful hurt. Jungkook takes the time to admire his art piece - he has never created something so beautiful. The red, purplish mark is shiny because of his saliva and it looks so good on your soft skin.

"You're so fucking hot" he says with a raspy and so sexy voice

He suddenly changes position to lie you down underneath him and kisses you again. You take the hem of his black and large t-shirt to indicate you want it to disappear. One second later your wish is fulfilled. What a beautiful view. His chest is buff, his abs are well drawn, his arms are strong and his shoulders are large. Your hands brush his warm skin and you feel his muscles flexing under your touch. His body is so perfect. You'll never be bored of looking at it.

However, your eyes spontaneously shut when Jungkook's hand reaches your groin. His fingers find your clit in a second and start circle it through your panties.

"Oh my god!" You moan in his neck

It's so good. So fucking good. It's like you've never have been touched before. Your moans are louder as his fingers get faster. At this point, your panties are soaked by your juices - it could be kind of an unpleasant sensation if you could think.

"You're so wet" Jungkook teases you while he kisses your neck

You are feeling your orgasm slowly building up in you but the emptiness in your pussy is torture. You need something to fix that.

"Please"

It's the only thing you manage to say with a choked voice.

"Please what?" Jungkook smirks

He knows damn well that you can't concentrate enough to speak properly and he is filled with pride that the reason is himself. Seeing how you are going crazy under his touch is so fucking satisfying. The most important, the only mission in his life right now is to make you cum. He leaves your neck to kiss your body all the way down until he reaches your wet pussy.

"I think we should take this off" he says while trapping the fabric of your panties with his forefinger

He looks up at you to have your approval.

"Yes, please" you moan, looking away with embarrassment of Jungkook being so close to your intimacy.

What you don't know is that your shaky 'please' turned him on so fucking bad. He loves having control during sex, even being a little dominant. Fulfilling his desires without even knowing it makes him want to please you even more. So he slides your soaked panties down your legs and opens your thighs. The sight is breathtaking: your cunt is glistening with your arousal. He wants to taste you, you make him hungry. He gently rubs two fingers from your clit to your entrance before diving onto your pussy with his mouth.

He gives a single kiss on your clit at first and the feeling is so fucking good that you immediately grab his hair in a desperate need of holding on to something to not sink into this unbearable pleasure. Your fingers in his black strands give him the green light to go further. His tongue is now completely attached to your pussy. He is literally making out with it. He is so good with his mouth. Your clit is taken care of like it deserves. His tongue rolls around your bud, then takes a quick strip from your entrance to your clit and rolls again. It's a perfect pattern and it makes you go crazy. The wetness created by his saliva and your own arousal is full of sins and pleasures.

"Oh my god, Jungkook!"

You feel your orgasm coming and your fist clenches as much as your pussy. Jungkook notices it and enters your pussy with his finger. This friction in your body is exactly what you needed. He pulls in and out at a pleasant pace with his digit. Your brain is foggy, you don't even know where you are, you don't even hear your own moans. All you can feel is him.

"More, more!" Is all you can say

He adds another finger, sightly speeding up the back-and-forth's pace, his tongue still playing with your clit.

"You taste so fucking good, I could eat you all day"

His words reasoning on your pussy is too much to bare and you cum on his face and on his two fingers in you, screaming his name. The best fucking orgasm of your life. Your legs quiver when you reach your climax. But what did you expect from Jungkook? He was your best kiss, it's only natural for him to make you cum like nobody had done it before.

It takes you a few seconds to catch your breathe and to settle down back on Earth. Your cheeks, even red before, are blushing harder when you realize that you just let your crush eating you out. It takes you a lot of courage to look down to meet Jungkook's face between your legs. You see his mouth and chin glistening with your juice. The view is sinful. But he defies even more the limits of hotness allowed when he puts his fingers into his mouth to taste more of your cum. You gasp at the indecent teasing.

Jungkook goes up to your face and kisses you. You taste yourself on his mouth and you have to say that it's hot.

"Are you okay?" He asks you gently

His consideration is a dangerous weapon for your heart. Fortunately, you're still too much in the frog of pleasure to overthink it.

"Yes. It-It was really good" you whisper, blushing.

Jungkook's pride is beyond clouds when he saw how strong was your orgasm because of him. He wants to be the one that makes you cum the most, the only one that makes you cum. Because you are so pretty, so hot when you reach your high, he wants to be the only one who witnesses it. He wants to fuck you so hard that you won't ever be attracted to another man. His possessiveness is killing him. You are messing with his brain and you don't even know it. You are crushing down all his boundaries.

"I, uhm, I want to please you too" you say shyly

Jungkook is amused by your shyness when he just made you cum. But he is also touched that you care about his pleasure. He can't deny that his cock is really hard and that he would love to release the tension in his body. But he doesn't want you to feel obligated to return the favor. He didn't touch you to have something in return, he did it because he wanted to see your cute face torn in pleasure, a pleasure provided by him.

"You don't have to, Y/N" he says with a small peck on your lips

He helps you sit correctly on your couch, and the leaking between your legs make you wince. But not as much as his answer. Doesn't he want you to touch him? Does he think you won't please him? You feel a dragger in your heart, and maybe in your pride also. Jungkook frowns when he notices your expression darkens.

"It's not that I don't want to" he feels the need to tell you "Because, believe me, I want to. You make me fucking hard. But you don't have to, you don't have to feel obligated"

He cups your cheeks and you see the sincerity in his eyes. Rather than pushing you off, it makes you want to please him stronger.

"I want to" you simply say

The determination in your voice startles him a little bit because a new wave of arousal rushes through him.

"Okay" is the only thing he finds to say

You put your delicate hand on his stretched crotch, feeling him hard and big through the fabric of his pants. You can't deny that it makes you horny. Jungkook's body tenses, watching carefully your movements to detect any sign of displeasure and stop you in this case. But he only sees the way you blush and bit your bottom lip. So fucking cute, he thinks. He waits for you to express by your actions your want to get rid of his pants. He doesn't want to rush you and let you be in control of the pace, even if it's like a torture for him: he has been hard for a long time now.

When you grab the hem of this pants, he gets the message and rises his hips to slide down his piece of clothing. The bulge of his black underwear shocks you a little bit: he is fucking big. Your reaction makes him cocky, he knows he's big - a lot of women already told him that - but now he wants you to think that. He wants you to think about how his cock would fill your tight pussy. The thought of it makes his hard member twitch.

You push down the hem of his underwear to free his length. Your mouth waters at the sight of the perfect, velvety skin. He is hard, and thick. You wonder how would feel the stretch if he were in your pussy. You gently caresse his tip with your thumb and a drop of pre-cum escapes. You spread it on the tip, which makes it shiny and appetizing. You start jerking him off and a sigh of delight comes from Jungkook's mouth.

"You're doing great, babe"

The pet name makes your pussy clench and your heart beat faster. You also feel proud and more confident so you increase the speed, putting the right pressure. Jungkook's breathing gets more and more rugged, you can tell that he likes it. He grabs firmly - but not too harshly to not hurt you - your hair and pull you closer. He kisses you ruthlessly, his tongue meets yours. You moan at his sudden ardent desire. And this is what he wanted: hearing your sweet whimpers while you jerking him off. Your hand on his cock and your mouth on his lips are a dangerous combination for his sanity.

"You're perfect, so fucking perfect" he says against your pretty mouth "Keep going, you gonna make me cum, babe"

Babe.

Once again, it fills you with indescribable sensations - physical sensations and other sensations that you push away to not overthink. You keep sliding up and down your hand on Jungkook's fat cock, your arm is beginning to hurt but you don't stop. Making him feel good is so fucking satisfying. You being the reason of the orgasm of such an attractive, hot, handsome man messes up your bain - and your wet pussy.

"I'm cumming" Jungkook says in a gasp

After a few more strokes, you feel a hot and thick liquid on your hand. Jungkook relaxes his grip in your hair and kisses your temple, with a shortness of breath. Then, he rests his forehead against yours for a moment, to recover a regular breathing.

"It was perfect" he says with a soft smile.

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#bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #jjk smut #smut #jungkook #jjk #jeon jungkook

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daisynik7 · 11 months

Text

Out of Time Part Two - Nanami x f!reader

Click here for Part One!

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: PIV sex (doggy, cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering, spit play, nipple play, cum-eating, dirty talk, cream pie, multiple orgasms, just downright filthy smut, alright?

Word Count: ~3.7k

Summary: Finished with your thesis, and a huge weight lifted off your shoulders, you can finally focus on the only other thing occupying your mind the past forty-eight hours: Kento Nanami, the man you met two nights ago at your favorite bar, the one you shared an unforgettable evening with. Through serendipity, and with a little help from your friends, two well-acquainted strangers reconnect for one more night. Author's Notes: The very smutty part two of this little fic! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thank you!

One last tap of your mouse on the Submit button and your thesis is complete. A week from today, you’re scheduled to present it in front of your faculty advisor and a few other professors, which you’re not concerned about considering you’ve dedicated hundreds of hours of research to this topic. A week after that, you’ll be handed your diploma, officially a graduate. With the written portion finished, you feel a giant burden lifted off your shoulders, one that’s been weighing on you since the start of the semester. For the first time in months, you’re free.

You collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, smiling. Besides ridding yourself of the dreaded essay, there’s another big reason why you’re giddy: Kento Nanami. You’ve tried your best to keep him in the back of your mind, at least until you submitted your paper. However, it’s been quite the challenge, especially after the unforgettable evening the two of you shared two nights ago. It’s a faraway dream you let yourself indulge in. Too good to be true, too perfect to be real. You said your goodbyes without exchanging phone numbers. Still, it doesn’t hurt to fantasize about it. Right?

You check your phone for the first time since yesterday, basically isolating yourself from the outside world. There are several texts from Gina, making sure you’re alive. A couple from other group chats, the usual collection of messages you’re used to seeing after staying offline for more than a day. However, one from an unknown number captures your attention. You’re almost certain it’s spam, ready to block and delete without a second thought. You check it anyways, unprepared for what you’re about to read.

~~~

Two nights ago

Nanami presses his palms together, almost in prayer, tapping his fingers to his nose. He stares at Gojo, who has that typical shit-eating grin plastered on his face, typing away on his phone. After several minutes of discussion, Nanami agrees to accept Gojo’s help to reconnect with the woman he kissed tonight, the one who left him with this odd fluttering sensation in his belly.

“Alright. I sent it. Now we wait,” Gojo says, stretching his arms out. When there’s no response within five minutes, he stands up, getting ready to sleep, leaving his phone on the bed. Nanami is too anxious to leave his current position, willing for a reply to come soon. Thankfully, the universe grants his wishes, the phone vibrating and flashing a notification with Gina’s name on it.

“Gojo, she texted you back,” he yells out to his friend, staring at the screen. He’s tempted to check the message himself, but Nanami is still a man of reason, not wanting to invade his friend’s personal property.

“You can read it,” Gojo says from the bathroom, sounding like he has a toothbrush shoved in his mouth. “Go ahead, buddy. I know you want to.”

With permission granted, he unlocks the phone, clicking on the familiar icon to view their conversation:

Gojo: Hey beautiful, can you give me your friend’s #? Nanami is smitten and the dumbass forgot to ask for it.

Gina: LOL I’ll give it but tell the croissant man to text her AFTER she submits her thesis.

Gina: so in 2 days

Gina: and tell him she’s smitten too.

Nanami can’t contain his smile at the last text.

~~~

You read the message, so surprised, you double back and do it again, this time more carefully.

Hi, this is Nanami. Congrats on finishing your thesis. If you’re free tonight, we should celebrate.

A rush of thoughts invades your mind. Somehow, he found your number, most likely from Gojo, who asked Gina. But it’s the fact that he wanted to find you, to contact you, that has your head spinning in a pleasant frenzy. You were convinced that after that night, you’d never see him again. You also assumed that him living in Tokyo, almost one hour from here, would be a deal breaker. But if there’s one thing you learned about Nanami that fateful night, it’s that he’s a man of many surprises.

His last sentence sticks out to you the most. He’s offering to celebrate tonight. Does that mean he’s willing to take the hour-long journey just to see you? Or is it possible that he’s here? Not one to entertain mysteries, you decide to give him a call instead of responding through text. First, you save his number under his name, resisting the strong urge to add a little heart emoji next to it, then you prepare yourself before dialing.

After two rings, he picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Nanami. It’s me.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s you.”

“I’d love to take you up on your offer. Maybe we can meet halfway so you don’t have to travel so far.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m actually still here.” He hesitates before continuing. “I booked the hotel room for a few more nights. Gojo left and it’s just me.” Another pause. “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything, but I would really like to see you again.”

You giggle to yourself, though you’re sure he hears it too, with the way you catch the hitch in his breath. “Me too. Let’s meet at the same bar then, tonight at 8. We can grab a drink or something.”

“Or something,” he repeats, the grin on his face audible through the phone. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Oh, and Nanami?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe I’m in the mood to be seduced tonight.”

With that, you hang up, smirking, heading to your closet to find the perfect outfit.

~~~

Nanami doesn’t get flustered easily, but whatever powers this woman possesses over him, it’s working. Because he is most definitely flustered.

Maybe I’m in the mood to be seduced tonight.

Her parting words replay in his head over and over. In all honestly, it shouldn’t surprise him, considering what they almost did inside that karaoke room. Still, he’s caught off guard by her boldness. And very much turned on. He paces his hotel room, checking his watch to calculate how much time he has until they meet. A couple hours to go. He’s tempted to call her and see her now, but he doesn’t want to come on too strong. He reminds himself that patience is a virtue, and tonight will be well worth the wait. There are a few errands he thinks of to distract himself, the day passing relatively quickly until it’s time for him to get ready.

He steps out of the hotel around 7:50 PM, dressed in his typical attire: tan suit, navy blue dress shirt underneath, and his signature spotted tie. His glasses are tucked inside his breast pocket for safe keeping. As he crosses the street to approach the bar, he feels the nerves jittering through his body. He doesn’t want this to end up being a big disappointment, for either him or her.

Upon entering, he doesn’t expect to see her yet. Nanami is used to being early to things; he prides himself in being punctual, and rarely expects that from anyone else. So when he does spot her, standing at one end of the bar, stunning in a black dress that accentuates her beauty in the most dazzling way, all his worries disappear. The only thought in his mind is that he wants this woman, needs this woman. And if it’s only for one more night, he’s going to make the most out of it.

She immediately notices him, a bright smile on her face as he walks towards her. With a wave, she greets him. “Nanami. You found me.”

“I found you,” he responds, returning her grin. “Congrats on finishing your thesis.”

“Thank you. I’m so relieved.”

There’s a slight pause as Nanami studies her, trying not to be too obvious. She does the same, her eyes slowly checking him out from head to toe. Deciding to be completely candid tonight, no holding back, he says, “You’re beautiful.”

She giggles, averting her gaze away from him, nervous. “Thank you.”

“Why did you have to wear a dress like this tonight?” he asks, leaning closer to her. He wants to touch her hand, hold it between his. The memory of them dancing together in the karaoke room the other night feels distant; he wants to remember the softness of her skin, the way their fingers lock together perfectly.

“Do you not like it?” she asks.

“You know I do.”

“So what’s the matter?” She bats her eyelashes, teasing him. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Something in him snaps. He can’t control himself anymore. The desire to finish what they started takes over. Bowing his head, he whispers in her ear, “I’m trying to be good, I really am.”

With a wicked smirk on her face, she replies, “I don’t want you to be good. I want you to be mine.”

Minutes later, they’re stepping into the elevator of the hotel, hand-in-hand, Nanami’s face flush, anticipating what’s about to occur. Once the doors close, he remains still, desperately wishing she makes the first move. Seconds in, his wish is granted. She tugs at his tie, pulling him in for a kiss, hungry and eager. His hands roam to her waist, gripping her tightly, fingertips pressed shallow into her flesh through the fabric. He can’t wait to strip this off her, worship her bare body, touch every centimeter of her supple skin. Run his tongue along her most sensitive spots, make her whimper in pleasure. It’s all he’s thought about the last two nights.

Once inside the room, he gently pushes her against the closed door, kissing her deeply, tongue swirling around hers. His fingers reach for the zipper behind her dress, slowly pulling it down until it’s split, exposing her back. He feels for the clasp of her bra, undoing it in an instant. She undresses from the top, shoving the clothing off her shoulders and wiggling out, now naked from the waist up. He admires her breast before dipping down to wrap his lips around her nipple, tugging at it between his lips as she hums in pleasure. He’s gentle with her, unsure what her limit is when it comes to things like this. But he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

“You can suck them harder, if you want,” she whispers, watching him. “I like it a little rough.”

It takes everything in him to not growl on the spot. He feels like an animal in heat, lust fueling every carnal desire he possesses. Permission granted, he suckles at her peaked tits, his entire mouth surrounding her breast. His free hand grasps at her other nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, teasing her until she swears wantonly, “Oh fuck!” Her head thrown back against the door, eyes shut tight, fingers buried in his blonde hair. He flicks his thumb across her swollen teat when he relaxes his grip. He wants her sore and satiated when he’s done with her. Test out all the ways he can make her come, whether from his cock, his fingers, his mouth. Whatever he can do; he wants to give her his all tonight.

In a haste, he sheds his tan blazer, tossing it to the floor. The rest of his outfit follows, until he’s clad only in his briefs, with his erection tight against the fabric, a spot of precum leaking through. She makes her way to the bed, sliding the rest of her dress off, panties clinging to her, waiting for him. He hurries over, grinning as he positions himself beside her, caressing her cheek, kissing her slowly, relishing the way her mouth melts into his. His fingers gradually trail down, memorizing every curve of her body, in case they run out of time again. He’s unsure what the future holds for them. So he’ll spend the entire night if he has to, learning everything about her until he knows her like the back of his hand, until she’s familiar in his mind.

He breaks the kiss to latch his mouth onto her breast, cupping it in one hand, his other between her legs, silk panties already damp. Rubbing at the wet spot, his cock twitches, feeling her arousal on his fingertips. She spreads her legs wider, moaning, running her fingers along his tousled hair. “I love it, Nanami. I love it.”

He hooks his finger around the crotch of her panties, sliding it off completely. With a pop, he releases her from his mouth, kneeling beside her to study her naked form. “God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

She sits up, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m the lucky one.”

“We’re both lucky, then,” he says, nuzzling his nose to hers.

Giggling, she presses her lips to his. “Didn’t think you’d be this lovey-dovey.”

“Do you want me to be mean? I can do that too.” He nips at her bottom lip, smirking.

She laughs again. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it, aren’t you? Naughty girl.” He grabs at one of her ass cheeks, squeezing at her plush flesh. “Always trying to seduce me.”

“Who, me? I’m innocent,” she teases, pouting at him. She palms the erection confined in his briefs. He bucks his hips at the contact, swearing, “Fuck, I can’t take it anymore. I need to taste you now.”

Leaning back against the pillows, she spreads her thighs wide with a wicked look on her face. “Go ahead, then. Help yourself.”

~~~

Your cheeks are hot with arousal, nipples swollen and sensitive from Nanami’s torment. His erection is strained beneath his underwear, unbearably uncomfortable. He slips his thumb beneath the band and slides it down his legs, boner springing free against his abdomen. Your pussy throbs, yearning for his thick girth inside you. Without wasting any more time, he positions himself between your legs, flicking his tongue at your clit. His lips surround you, sucking at your bud until it’s plump in his mouth, swishing his spit around it. Pleasure radiates from your core, causing you to spasm. He hums against your skin, amused at your reaction, his movements becoming sloppier by the second the deeper he dives into you. He teases his middle finger along you entrance. “Can I finger you?” he asks, voice muffled as his tongue continues to work on you.

You nod erratically, willing to agree to whatever he offers you. He slides in slowly, the lewd squelch of his thick finger against wet skin enough to push you close to the edge. He inserts his ring finger next to the middle, curling the tips as far as they can reach, brushing your sweet spot. That, in conjunction with the relentless slurping of your clit, has you in a fucked-out daze.

Without warning, he pulls out of you, causing you to whine from the sudden emptiness. He studies his digits, glistening in your arousal, and sticks them inside his mouth. You watch with your tongue lolling out of your mouth in a dumb expression, in awe as he slurps and swallows your slick like a treat he’s been waiting for all fucking night. He smiles at you, meeting your gaze, clearly enjoying your expression at the little stunt he just performed. “Are you okay?” he asks, lowering himself back towards your pussy, waiting for your answer before he resumes.

You nod once more, too bewitched by him to respond coherently. He spits on your pussy, thick and syrupy, smearing it over your puffy clit. He repeats this a few times, drenching you in his warm saliva. Suddenly, it’s all too much. There’s tightness in your abdomen, body becoming rigid as your reach your high. That doesn’t stop him; he continues to lap at your arousal, growling, “Come all over my face. Give it to me.” It’s not until your twitching from overstimulation that he slows down. With one last kiss, he pulls off, mouth and chin sticky with your cum. He licks around his lips, collecting whatever he can to swallow. You start to relax against the mattress, head dizzy from the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Still, you’re aching to feel him deep inside you.

“Don’t stop,” you utter. “I want you inside me.”

He looks at you, concerned. “Are you sure?”

You reach for him, tugging him close to you. “Absolutely sure. Don’t hold back on me.”

Chuckling in that low, sexy voice, he answers, “As you wish, princess.” He sits up beside you, rolling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his lap. “I want you like this,” he whispers into your ear, giving you a smack on your ass. You drape your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him securely, ready for the ride. He guides his cock inside you, slipping in smoothly. Breath hot on your ear, he asks, “Can you give me another one? Just one more before I come?”

You nod lazily without speaking, rocking your hips against him, hooked on the feeling of him buried deep inside you. He bounces you on his cock like his own personal sex doll, body pliant, slamming down easily on his dick. It’s addicting, the way he pumps into you, fucking your sweet spot like it’s never been fucked before. “Does this feel good? When I fuck this pretty pussy?” He scatters chaste kisses along your neck, dewy from perspiration.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you manage to say weakly, all your energy drained from being fucked into a frenzy.

“Make yourself come again. Want it really creamy,” he huffs, head bowed, watching his dick disappear in and out of your tight cunt. You moan at his filthy words, reaching between you, toying with your slippery bud. It doesn’t take long for you to come again, your sticky mess coating his cock with each thrust. “I’m coming!” you cry out, clenching his broad shoulders.

He follows, shooting his load inside you, thrusting until every last drop is released into your womb. You kiss him passionately, clinging to him closely, enough to feel the subtle thump of his heartbeat through his chest. It’s intimate the way your bodies meld to together, seamless and a perfect fit. Like it was truly meant to be.

You carefully lift yourself off his lap, collapsing next to him. You’re spent, light-headed from pleasure, convinced that the both of you have hit your limit. But, as always, Nanami surprises you. “I’m not done with you yet,” he says, dragging you roughly to the edge of the bed where he stands, grip firm around your waist. “I want to fuck my cum even deeper inside you. Fill you up so it’s leaking out until tomorrow morning. Think you can take it?”

This switch in behavior doesn’t alarm you; in fact, it spurs you on, makes you instantly forget about your foggy brain and tired limbs. You crane your neck to look at him, meeting his lust-filled gaze. “Oh fuck, Nanami. I want it. Give it to me.”

He doesn’t hold back, per your request from earlier, and he does give it to you, fucking you feverishly into the mattress. Face buried into a pillow, biting to muffle the shameless moans spilling out of your mouth with each savage thrust. The bed frame starts to creak, his movements becoming more erratic as he approaches his second climax. He sputters nonsense, spilling inside you, too sensitive now to speak coherently. It takes a moment for him to calm down, pulling out slowly to watch his cum dribble out of you. With a pleased smile on your face, you crawl towards the middle of the bed, not caring about the mess, and retreat under the covers, closing your eyes. You feel the bed sink, Nanami joining beside you, arms wrapping you in a snug embrace, lips pressed to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I got a little carried away. I’m not usually like this.”

You let out a small laugh, opening your lids halfway. “That’s what they all say,” you tease him, resting your palm on his chest.

“I mean it. If you feel at all concerned or offended by this, I – ”

You interrupt, placing a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Nanami, I liked it. A lot.” You hesitate before admitting, “I like you. A lot.”

His eyes widen at your confession. “What?”

Giggling, you repeat, “I like you, Nanami. I want to keep seeing you.” Suddenly, you feel embarrassed. You’re not even sure if he feels the same way about you. Quickly, you add, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand. I can leave now if you want me to –”

It’s his turn to interrupt, this time with a kiss. It’s slow and smooth, no rush. When he breaks away, he whispers, “I like you, too. A lot. A whole lot.”

You kiss again, relief and glee swelling in your chest. The two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms, his chin tucked to the top of your head, your face nestled into the crook of his neck. Your steady heartbeats lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

Nanami can’t remember the last time he felt this kind of joy. In all honestly, maybe this is the first.

He wakes up in the morning, the sun streaming through the curtain windows, illuminating his hotel room with a brilliant golden light. Best of all, she’s snuggled into his body, comfortable and cozy, as if she belongs here. It feels right.

He watches her for a while before her eyelids flutter open. Catching him, she yawns, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 10. We have to check out soon.”

Frowning, she says, “We’re out of time again.”

He nuzzles his nose to hers. “Just for today. But you and me, we have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

She beams at him. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

They cuddle in silence for a few more moments before she suggests, “Want to get some croissants?”

Unable to contain his smile, he responds, “I thought you’d never ask.”

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami smut #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #out of time

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fandomnerd9602 · 7 months

Text

Absolving?

Nun Novitiate!Wanda x Male Reader

It’s something that felt so sinful and yet at the same time, it felt so beautiful and planned out.

You were a seminary student studying at the local parish when you first met her. Wanda Maximoff, it was said that she came from a family line that had a witch or two but she chose to become a nun. Well rather she was taking the steps to become one when you met.

Her beauty, her kindness, the fire she carried for her devotion, her spirit, it all started a fire in your heart. It made you want to be better, both for God and for her. But at the same time, it felt so conflicting. How could you fall for a nun?! Well she was a novitiate so she hadn't taken the vows yet.

You and Wanda spent hours together. In prayer, in devotions, in taking care of the Sunday school children. And all of it just made you fall deeper in love with her.

You found yourself wondering the courtyard when you grunted in frustration. Your mind was racing.

“Trouble?” Steve, former army captain and your best friend, asks you with a smile.

“Have you ever had feelings for a nun?” You ask with a little embarrassed smile.

“I know my wife Peg thought of becoming one when I was missing in action for a month or so” Steve rubs his neck. "I appreciate you telling me this. I would say that she's not a nun yet. So take from a guy who took five years to tell his wife how he felt, don't wait"

You took Steve's advice to heart. But you didn't want to force her to choose between you or the habit.

You went to your mentor Wong, the high priest of the parish. Before you could tell him your dilemma, he informed you that he needed you to run the confessional for the day. You didn't think much of it, it was good training for you.

You took the priest's spot in the confessional booth. What you failed to notice was that Wanda was walking in right as you closed the door. All she knew was that the confessional booth was open and she needed to get something off her chest. She tried to pray it away but it still wore on her spirit.

Wanda, after taking a deep breath, opened the confessional booth door and sat down, crossing herself. You opened the side panel, allowing you to listen to her.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned" a calm, beautiful voice admitted to you.

"Do you seek absolution, my daughter?" you asked her back.

"Yes." Wanda took a deep breath, "no. maybe?"

"What troubles you?"

"I'm a novitiate and yet I don't know if I can go through with my vows."

"Do you have doubts?"

"No. I love my Lord do not get me wrong" she explains, "but I feel my heart drawn to someone. One within my own parish."

"A seminary student?"

"Yes. I've been assigned to be with him. And honestly, I love spending time with him. He's kind and sweet, a man who has a heart after God and that just makes him all the more appealing."

Wanda feels her breath shutter. "I love him. Y/N."

You feel your own breath hitch, she feels the same way for you! "I suppose there's nothing wrong with love. It was one of the first things created by the Father."

"But i dream of him. I wish to marry him. I wish him to take me against... I feel so conflicted."

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

"Y-you can still serve the Lord even if it's not within the walls of a parish. You can still volunteer with the church" you try to admit, "the scriptures do say that it's better to live in marriage than in the fires of lust"

"And if I find myself lusting for my own husband? If I dream about being with him?"

"T-that's a good thing" you manage to say, "Love is amazing."

"Thank you" Wanda manages to smile. "I will still need to pray about it but you've helped me through a great deal."

"Then may you go out today in peace, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit" you bless the young novitiate who stole your heart.

You try to get out. Sadly, or maybe by the Father's divine plan, you stepped out of the confessional booth at the same time that Wanda did, coming face to face with the young woman.

"Uh...hello" you manage to say.

"hello." she smiles back at you.

for @lifespectator and @aloneodi

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda variant #nun wanda #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine

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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months

Note

A request for Senjuro rengoku, all fluff but maybe just a bit romantic. How would Senjuro react to getting a crush on tengen's (reader) little sister?!?! Feel free to decline and have a nice day/night 😜🥰🙏!!!

Oooh! Senjuro is back? Awwww! So cuteeee! Let’s do this baby, I miss himmm

Rengoku Senjuro

Senjuro is very timid. He isn’t that use to expressing his emotions, with that ruthless father of his and his only emotional support and import gone forever, Senjuro figured he would never truly connect with anybody again after the horrible lost of Kyojuro

However. Senjuro didn’t know another Hashira had a sibling until now. That Hashira is Uzui Tengen, and his cute little sister. She wasn’t a Hashira like him but she knew her way around the sword quite well and she joined Tengen in giving prayers to Kyojuro’s only true family

Senjuro fell hard for her. Dokusha, you. It was like love at first sight, he knew he wanted you as his bride, the mere minute he got to learn about your personality. Flashy and eccentric like Tengen but with a streak of raw compassion and love

Senjuro is managing with his crush but has to keep it to himself. He thinks about it/you 24/7 and it becomes such a hinderance to his everyday life. The best type of hinderance as everytime he is alone with his thoughts, that train drifts into scenarios or images of you

Senjuro always really likes it when you come over to visit him. Being the friendly girl you are, you try cheer him up from his grieving and try encourage him to continue with Kyojuro’s inspirational quotes. Senjuro can’t help but admire your face as you speak, your voice is so pretty too…

Senjuro cooks you personal dishes that he believes you’ll like, everytime he is alerted that you’ll heading over for a hangout visit. He can’t impress you with battle skills but he can woo you over with amazing food. In which you praise each time, those praises stick with him for weeks on end

Senjuro is a darling person, all the way down to his soul. He will never be rude towards you, this fact is elevated with his crush on you. He is so polite and considerate, you are curious if he is trying to make up for something he did. He hopes he doesn’t seem creepy and worries about it sometimes

Senjuro, like Kyojuro, has a cute and harmless habit of gawking lovestruck. He just watches you with love overflowing his gorgeous flame-coloured eyes as he is so proud of himself that you appreciate something he gave to you. You actually like him! He almost can’t believe it but he latches onto it

Senjuro really badly wants to tell you. He has many things holding him back from spilling his intense swelling feelings for you to your face as you sat and chat with Tengen; your potential reaction, the fact it could ruin his close friendship to you and Tengen’s reaction

Won’t deny, Senjuro gets jealous of how much time you dedicate to Tengen but then again. He knows Tengen is definitely not a love rival nor keeping you away, but he wishes you’d give him as much attention as you give your older brother

“Good afternoon, Dokusha! You’re not with Uzui-san today? Well… unless you don’t think it’s good, I’m glad that you’re independent of him. It always good to be able to go out on your own! That’s what Kyojuro use to say at least”

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Note

oh my god, the fragment of your short story is very cool and your illustration looks beautiful😍😍😍. I'm always extremely happy when I see Slavic mythology somewhere (I'm from Slovakia). I keep my fingers crossed for your work, it will definitely be amazing

ps: I wish you a early recovery

Beloved Husband

Especially for you, the entire story is translated below

[ warnings: character death, violence, progressive madness, depression, mourning ]

Although it had been two springs since her beloved closed his eyes forever, it seemed to her that just a moment ago she was standing at his side in front of the altar in a small wooden church. She was clad that day in her new linen chemise and kaftan, under which stretched her skirt sewn from long, colourful strips, embroidered by her own hands over many nights.

That morning, her mother herself had collected fresh flowers in the field, from which she later wove a beautiful garland of daisies and forget-me-nots for her. The smell of baking cake spread throughout the room as her sisters helped her dress and prepare to leave her family home.

All her belongings, which consisted of several linen shirts and woollen skirts, two kaftans, one winter coat, two pairs of shoes − one for colder days, the other festive, only for church − hair pins, a set of bedding and a holy picture she had received as a gift from her godparents, fit easily into a small wooden chest decorated with painterly ornaments.

Her beloved was beautiful, joyful and kind, his lips curving into a lazy smile at the sight of her, for he had loved her ever since she could remember. He called out to her when she returned from the fair, when she left church with her parents, he made her laugh by looking at her over the fence as she fed her geese, by telling her made-up tales and legends.

He would come to her parents with gifts, wishing them to look upon him with a more favourable eye, as he was poorer than they were − she was the daughter of a respectable farmer, while he was the son of a simple serf peasant apprenticed to a blacksmith.

Although her guardians at first regarded him with disapproval and reserve, they eventually recognised his industriousness, which also brought him a tangible income. He spent days and nights in the forge, creating things that were not only useful and durable, but also beautiful, appreciated by the villagers and the heirs of the manor houses.

Without delay, he came to the aid of his future parents-in-law when the hinges of their doors and shutters began to loosen and fall off. He forged new ones for them, beautifully fitted, with indentations and swirls, which they later showed off to their neighbours. She watched it all from afar, daring to offer him only her warm, happy smile and a gratitude that filled his heart with fervent hope.

− Wait for me, pretty dove. − He called out to her then, and she laughed, not even thinking of marrying another.

His approach full of patience and understanding eventually won the hearts of her parents. Her father decided, after some thought, that it was good to have such a swift, hard-working son-in-law, who, in addition, was cordial to the women.

He believed that he would certainly be a good and gentle husband, who would not hit or shout at his daughter, and who would also gladly drink vodka with his father-in-law, and would conduct a conversation well, as his mind was sharp and enlightened.

She knew that she had caught God by the feet when they finally agreed to give him her hand, and she did not hide her joy. She thanked her Lord during every evening prayer for the fact that she did not have to marry a drunkard, a scoundrel, but a kind, handsome, hard-working young man, at the sight of whom she felt warmth melt through her heart.

Not even one spring of their marital happiness had passed when her beloved fainted, having returned from the forge all hot and fiery. He coughed terribly and babbled, only making it home with the help of their neighbour. They laid him on the bed together, wondering what to do. Fear then overtook her and she immediately sent for an herbalist who lived a few huts away.

The woman arrived in the evening and, without saying anything or demanding payment, prepared water over the cooker by throwing dried leaves and herbs into it, muttering something at the same time. After these mysterious procedures, she gave her decoction to her husband, ordering him to drink.

She rejoiced, for the colours returned to his countenance, for life returned to his members, for he recognised her, calling her his pretty dove.

Her heart was filled anew with hope. Lying by his side at night, she prayed fervently, thanking God for his grace.

Only in the morning, when the first rays of the sun woke her up, wanting to attend to her daily chores and prepare his morning meal, did she feel that the body lying next to her was cold and stiff.

She was afraid to look at him, and when she finally did, she saw his face, pale and blue, his lips parted slightly, as if he were in fact still asleep. She tried to wake him, at first with a whisper, then with cries and wails, clamping her fingers over his body, but his eyelids never opened again.

She couldn't name what was happening to her. It seemed to her as if her speech had been completely taken away. Her body was left without strength, her mind became blank, dulled. She lay next to him, looking at his face, holding his cold hand in hers, unable to let go of the thought that the only thing left of him was his body.

She didn't understand what her mother was saying, stroking her cheeks and shoulders as they stood over his grave on the day of his funeral. She stared at the simple wooden cross stuck into the fresh, damp earth, listening to the women wailing and crying raucously around the coffin, chanting mournful hymns that only increased her despondency.

It seemed to her that her mind was foggy and sluggish. She drank, she ate, she did her chores, but she did not feel or experience anything. Her body was as if in a state of prolonged shock. In her mind there was still the conviction that her husband would cross the threshold of their home as he did every evening, that he would take her in his arms, speaking of his longing, that they would sit down to supper together, recounting what the day had brought them.

Her parents, seeing the impact of her bereavement and such a sudden loss, ordered her to return to the family home, which she did. From then on, she helped them with their daily chores, as she had done when she was still a maiden.

She would speak to them and be in their company, but her mind seemed to be out of her body, the emptiness that filled her began to be slowly replaced by a progressive rage and irritation, as she noticed that everyone had begun to forget about him. They laughed and smiled, got drunk and danced as he lay there, deep underground, alone.

Shrill thoughts flashed through her head as she lay alone at night under her quilt. Her heart squeezed with pain at the notion that perhaps the gravedigger had not buried him deep enough and his body would be desecrated by wolves or stray dogs or, God forbid, her poor beloved would wake up in his wooden grave and be unable to get out, driving his nails helplessly into the wooden lid.

She would cry aloud then, burying her face in her hands, holding her thoughts and pains deep inside her, feeling that no one else would understand her suffering, that only he, her dearest, if he were still alive, could comfort her.

It was then that she heard him for the first time since the day he closed his eyes forever: the loud, clear rustling of the grass and the quiet cracking of the branches beneath his feet.

She rose quickly, feeling the aggressive, chest-shattering pounding of her heart. A cold sweat ran down her back as she leaned out uncertainly to look out of the window.

There was no one in the courtyard.

She sat still for a moment, feeling a tightness in her throat at the thought that there was a graveyard beyond the woods overlooking her small room.

The next day she lay down to sleep faster than usual, excusing herself to her family for being unwell, feeling a pleasant tingling in her fingers and excitement at the thought that perhaps her beloved would visit her again, give her some sign, tell her what he needed. No one came, however, and salty tears of regret and disappointment ran down her cheeks as she lay, facing the window, watching the first rays of the sun.

She wandered off to the cemetery in the morning, explaining to her relatives that she wished to place fresh flowers on her late husband's grave. However, when she arrived at the site, she found to her disbelief and dismay that although grass should have grown on the grave long ago, the sand on it was still wet and fresh, as if he had been buried only the day before.

Walking back home along the dirt road, wrapping herself in a warm woollen shawl, she thought of her grandmother's stories. Of how people who had died, called wraiths, rose from their graves to haunt their families, peering down on their children and placing cold, corpse-like kisses on the lips of their wives and husbands.

At this thought she felt heat in her lower abdomen, a pleasant tickling sensation engulfed her fingertips and lips, and she imagined that her beloved had come to her then, that night, wanting to prove to her that he remembered her, that he loved her and could not leave without her.

The realisation that he could wander still in the world without knowing a holy rest both frightened and delighted her at the same time, that their love could be stronger than death, that his desire to stay with her was more important to him than the will of God himself, who had called him to join him.

She stopped and trembled as she heard a loud rustling in the depths of a field filled all around with tall, golden wheat. She lifted herself up on tiptoe, feeling the rumbling of her yearning heart, looking around carefully. Her breathing became raspy and loud, full of excitement.

− My love? − She heard her own trembling, warm voice, sounding as if a mother was calling her child, wanting to give him courage.

However, she saw nothing, nor did she hear any reply.

Nevertheless, the conviction that her husband was still prowling the earth and watching her was growing stronger within her. Candles would suddenly burn out in the rooms she was in, although no one passed by them, doors would open with a loud creak of old wood even though no one was standing behind them. She was awakened at night by a quiet tapping on the windowpanes that kept her awake. She had the impression that she heard someone's footsteps even when there was no one in the room but her.

She whispered to him each time, asking him to appear to her. She would convince him that his cadaverous, pale face would certainly not scare her away, that he still remained her beloved, her only one.

He did not answer.

It seemed to her that she was slowly losing her mind. She was getting thinner and thinner, her face becoming pale, bruises from dozens of sleepless nights surrounding her lifeless eyes. Her parents, worried about her behaviour and the fact that the slightest sound or movement made her flinch as she looked around the rooms, suggested that perhaps it was time to find her a new husband.

− You will have your children, and he too will comfort you with a kind word and a strong embrace of his arms. − Her mother said. She looked at her dully, feeling that her pale lips trembled parted in disbelief. Cold sweat trickled down her neck, her fingers clenched tightly on the material of her skirt.

That night, she cried aloud with her face pressed into her pillow, calling for her beloved, her kindest, cursing him and begging him to relieve her suffering, to prevent her from being given away to any other man, because they had promised each other that they would be together, now and for eternity.

It was then that she heard him again − the quiet crackling and rustling outside her window, someone's footsteps so clear that her heart leapt into her throat. She pulled herself up from her bed and looked out of the window, pressing her palms against the glass. A pitiful, low sob escaped from her throat as she spotted a male figure disappearing deep into the dark woods.

She got up quickly, putting a warm blanket over herself, and slipped out of her family home in only her nightgown, moving after the mysterious silhouette, wanting to shout for him to stop, fearing, however, that she would startle him. Seeing only the full moon and stars above her, she trudged through the tall shrubs, the needles of the pines and the sharp stones beneath her feet hurting her skin.

She knew that in order to reach the cemetery she had to walk straight ahead, and despite her fear, her heart was filled with courage, because for him, for her beloved, she was willing to do anything.

A loud sigh of relief left her lungs when she finally stood at the border of the forest, seeing clearly the outlines of wooden and iron crosses. She froze completely when she noticed a male figure leaning deeply into one of the grave pits. A broad smile appeared on her face for the first time since fate had separated them.

− My beloved! − She shouted with joy, with hope, with relief, drenched in tears, running towards him with confidence, thinking only of throwing herself into his arms again, of speaking to him again, of hearing his voice again.

My pretty dove.

She stopped halfway, feeling her heart freeze, shivers ran along her spine as the man she was running towards jumped out of the pit like a burned man.

She saw his terrified eyes, he was panting heavily as if he was some wild animal, raising his hands high in the air. She found to her horror that she did not recognise either his face or his figure, looking at him in the moonlight. He was older and taller than her husband, dressed in dark, dirty trousers and coat, his large hands black from the ground.

Only after a moment did she notice a long shovel lying next to his feet, a sack lay immediately next to it, she swallowed with difficulty recognising in its contents something that resembled shimmering gold jewellery in the moonlight.

The stranger moved suddenly towards her, grabbing earlier a shovel lying on the ground. She screamed loudly, throwing herself into flight, understanding her mistake, her stupidity, her naivety. She stumbled several times over tombstones and tree roots, her sore feet seeming to scream with every step she took.

Her voice stuck in her throat when suddenly something dull and hard hit her heavily on the back of her head, then again and again; she fell to the ground, panting heavily. Everything around her seemed to spin, she no longer recognised shapes or where she was, warm liquid ran down her forehead, the metallic taste of blood that had flooded her face melted between her lips.

She wanted to scream for rescue to her beloved, to her parents, but she was unable to get the words out. She cried out loudly and drew in a loud breath, bursting out crying when she felt his large, rough hands clamp down on her bare calves, pulling her back on the ground. Her fingers impulsively dug into the sand and grass, fruitlessly trying to resist him, something akin to a grunt escaped her throat.

My God, have mercy.

She was already completely limp when he threw her into the middle of the grave. No sound left her lips as the heavy, cold sand began to fall on her body. Her empty gaze, from which the life was slowly escaping, was fixed on the bright moon disc spreading over her head.

Before the last breath left her lungs, a thought flashed through her dying mind, from which she smiled gratefully at the stranger who stood high above her like death itself.

I will see him again.

_____

Illustrations and text are created by me. Do not repost.

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lucifers-nipple-piercing · 2 years

Text

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 | 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙!𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

priest!Levi x fem!religious!reader smut

i have not been able to get this idea out of my head. will probably be two parts. sorry if it's not entirely accurate! I was raised christian but not catholic

cw: non-con/coercion, sacrilegious, Catholicism, mild age-gap, corruption, virginity kink kinda, 18+ only!!

Levi's grip on his Bible tightened as he saw you walk through the church doors, greeting Father Smith with a smile. You were dressed modestly, but your dress hung snugly around your breasts and ass. He watched the way they moved with your steps as you walked down the aisle.

Levi caught his shameful thoughts, mumbling a quick prayer for forgiveness. He opened his Bible to a random page, pretending to focus on it.

It had been like this for nearly a month. You were new to the area and had quickly become a valued member of the church. You were always there--volunteering, annotating your Bible, praying. Such dedication was rare, much more so among younger people. But you had been brought up by strict, Catholic parents. You were sheltered. The Church was all you knew.

Levi suspected you'd eventually stray from your devout loyalty as you got used to being on your own and began socializing with people other than your church friends. The young priest prayed for this day. Others might be fooled by the sweet front you put on, but he knew what you were. Temptation. Sin. The Devil.

He had been a Christian for his entire life. Enough to devote his life to Christ ten years ago. He had never had much of an interest in love and sex, so the sacrifice of a celibate's life had never bothered him. Until now.

Watching the way your pretty dresses hugged your form, the way you smiled softly when you caught his eye... everything about you made his faith waiver and his cock twitch.

"Father Ackerman?"

Levi snapped back to reality, looking up to see you smiling politely.

He cleared his throat. "Good morning, y/n."

"Good morning!" you chirped, "I picked up some wine for communion, where should I leave the bottles?"

Levi resisted the urge to glance down at your cleavage. "You can stick it in the storage closet by the organ."

"Okay! I'll go--Oh!" your gaze fixed on his feet, "Father, your shoe is untied."

Before Levi could respond, you had dropped to the floor and started tying the laces.

Levi's jaw clenched, his mind running wild with the idea of you on your knees. How badly he wished you'd just look up with those big, innocent eyes and undo his pants, wrapping your hand around his--

"There!" You looked up, smiling, then blushed. "Sorry," you stood "I hope I didn't weird you out... I wasn't really thinking..." you laughed awkwardly.

"No, it's--" Levi's voice came out gravely and he quickly coughed, "it's fine."

"Okay! Well, I should get busy. Have a good day!" You beamed, turning to carry on with your chores.

"Yeah," Levi glanced down at his pants, thankful he had chosen tight boxers today. "You too."

....

"I'll lock up."

"You sure? I really don't mind." Erin looked up from his papers.

"Yeah. You stayed late yesterday."

He chuckled. "Well... Don't have to tell me twice."

Levi watched, silent, as the man finished his work and packed up, bidding him a good night.

Left to his own, he made his way to the sanctuary. It was a beautiful building and he took a moment to appreciate the tall, stained-glass windows and ornate pillars. He stopped in front of the alter, staring up at the large window depicting the crucifixion. He slowly sunk to his knees, suddenly aware of all the holy figures staring down at him.

"Father..." Levi started, "I fear I am falling victim to temptation. Even now, as I pray, lustful thoughts of her fill my mind." He takes a few deep breaths.

"I pray that you will give me strength during this, and help me to lead the righteous path. Please Father, protect me from sin and the temptations of Lucifer."

...

Levi watched through the ornate screen as the old woman walked away. This was the fifth time she had come to ask forgiveness for watching reality TV. He still wasn't sure exactly how that was a sin, but she seemed adamant it was and his attempts to reassure her had done nothing.

He glanced at his watch in the dim light. He had less than an hour left. If he was lucky, no one else would come in. He had never enjoyed taking confessions. He had met quite a few people who enjoyed being in the know of all the church drama, but he couldn't care less.

There was an echoing click as the heavy doors of the cathedral swung open, the sound of pouring rain growing louder then fading again. The click-clack of heels on marble signaled the woman approaching the confessional box. A shadow covered the window, then a nervous voice spoke.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

Levi's pulse quickened as the familiar sound of your voice broke the silence.

"My last confession was, um, a year ago. I..." There was a long pause.

Levi sat in anticipation, wondering what sins such a sweet, pure girl could have.

"I've been having sinful thoughts. I've tried to ignore them. I've been praying constantly but... last night I... I gave in."

The priest adjusted his pants, his mind running wild. "What was it you gave into?"

There was a long silence. "I um... I'm sorry... it's shameful to talk about. I touched myself," you murmured.

Levi had to hold back a groan at the thought. The sweet angel adored by the church, God's obedient little girl, splayed out on her bed as she fingered herself for the first time.

"I see..." Levi swallowed, palming himself through his slacks. "Can you elaborate so I can better understand?"

"Elaborate?" Your voice wavered.

"I must better understand your sin to offer an appropriate pension."

"Of course.... Um, well, I've had sexual urges for a while but they've been getting worse recently... I've been less resilient. Last night I was reading a novel and I got to a sex scene. I usually skip past them, I always have, but I got curious this time and I read it. It was very inappropriate; so... rough and violent but..."

"But what?"

"I liked it."

Levi gritted his teeth, partly in arousal and partly in pain from his erection. "What about it did you like?" He slowly unzipped his pants, pulling his throbbing cock out. He had masturbated before, but it had been quite some time; he had to hold back a groan as his hand wrapped around his shaft.

"I had always thought of sex as something gentle and quick. Everything I have learned has taught me it is more for than man's enjoyment than for the woman's, but that wasn't the case here at all." You paused, seeming to think for a moment, "The male character focused on the woman, he did things to pleasure her before he penetrated her."

Levi hummed in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering closed as he stroked himself to her voice.

"And when they did start having penetrative sex, he was... violent! He was choking her and hitting her and I was thinking to myself how horrible it was but I..."

"You what?"

You shifted in your seat, trying to push down the knot in your stomach. "I could feel my... I could feel a burning between my legs."

Levi slowed his strokes enough for his voice to come out even "And what did you do?"

"I put the book down and I just laid there... Imagining the scene in my head, imagining myself as the woman. Could I really enjoy something so mean and painful? I think part of me doing what I did was to see if I really was attracted to those things... I was just rubbing my thighs together at first but I was just so curious what it would feel like and I couldn't resist reaching down there and..."

"What did you do, y/n?"

You blushed, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. "I started rubbing myself and--and I found my um... my entrance and pushed my fingers in and started m-moving them."

Levi audibly groaned, furiously pumping his cock. It was taking all of his willpower not to break through the thin wooden panel and fuck you against a pew. He wondered what soft and sweet sounds you'd make as your innocence was taken from you.

The thought pushed him over the edge, and he gritted his teeth as cum shot out onto his hand and pants

"Father?"

Levi struggled to catch his breath, head still spinning from the high, "Yeah?"

"W-what's my penance?"

"What you experienced is very common. Lust is something even the Godliest of people face." He had to have you. He couldn't stand it. God be damned, he had to have you. "One of our pastors will be out of town, tomorrow. Come to church tomorrow night and help with the extra work and you will be forgiven."

part 2 coming soon :)

#aot smut #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi x reader smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x you smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman fic

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smolalienbee · 3 months

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Makeshift Saints and Sacred Sinners

Chapter 1: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

good omens // aziraphale/crowley // a human AU set in the 90s with punk!Crowley // rated M // chapter 1/10 His entire life, Aziraphale's been taught that what’s different is wrong. Sinful. He’s supposed to fit into the mould carefully crafted by his family and the society at large - pray regularly, attend university, marry young, buy a little house and have two children. And then, he meets Crowley.

read full chapter on AO3 here!

There’s something holy in the silence and the stillness of an empty church.

Aziraphale walks down the aisle, his footsteps echoing underneath elaborate wall paintings and tall stained glass windows. It’s pretty. Everything is lined with gold; the artworks depict biblical scenes that Aziraphale is all too well familiar with. He could spend hours here just marvelling at the craft that went into designing this place, its architecture… perhaps another time.

For now, as he walks, each step measured, he keeps his gaze directed upwards - towards God, of course. As he approaches the confessional, he murmurs a silent apology for encroaching upon this holy ground. He knows that, technically, he isn’t barred from entry or even prayer in a church such as this one, but it still feels… wrong, somewhat.

He hopes he’s welcome regardless.

With a deep inhale, he steps inside the booth. He has never been in one before, he realises just then - it’s smaller than he’s imagined it to be and the wooden bench is, frankly, rather uncomfortable. Well, perhaps it’s all part of repentance.

Once he’s seated, Aziraphale is silent. He stares ahead at the purple fabric separating him from the rest of the church. He tries to gather his thoughts - he’s not entirely sure how to go about this, a confession. Should he merely pray, the way he usually does? Or would it be more appropriate to speak, the way Catholics do it?

“Take your time, my child.”

A small yelp escapes Aziraphale at the sound of a gravelly voice speaking in the other part of the confessional. He composes himself quickly, huffing at being so rudely brought out of his thoughts.

“Right. Hi. Hello!” he says, attempting a smile. He glances at the latticed opening that separates the two sections, but there’s fabric hanging on the other side of the booth, effectively hiding the other person from view. “I apologise, I suppose I must’ve… forgotten… this part.”

“This part?” the priest asks, confused.

“Well, as it happens, I’ve never done this with an… intermediary,” Aziraphale admits, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “In fact, I’d really appreciate it if you could leave. Thank you!”

There’s a moment of silence. Not even a rustle.

“My… role is actually quite traditional. It’d be best if I stayed.”

“Yes, yes, I know, that’s how your people do it, of course, but I’d really like to have a chat with God. On my own, that is. Alone.” There is an intake of breath on the other side, but Aziraphale continues before the priest can speak. “I’ll tell him you said hi! Now, shoo.”

That does the trick, at last. Aziraphale hears the man stand up. “I wish you well, child,” he says simply and steps out of the booth.

The moment he’s alone, Aziraphale breathes out. He hadn’t even realised how tense he’s gotten - gosh, it must be nerve-wracking to always have to do this with someone listening. Well, besides God, that is. God always listens. Aziraphale is acutely aware of the fact.

With another deep inhale, he folds his hands and then, he prays.

Having finished his prayers, Aziraphale feels much lighter. He’s always found prayer to be cleansing - not necessarily cleansing of sin, but of anxieties, of anything weighing him down. The entire process, to him, is meditative - even more so here, in the calmness of solitude, away from the prying eyes (and ears) of his family and the surrounding community.

It’s all rather lovely.

He takes a step outside of the booth. He lets out a long breath. He folds his hands on top of his stomach and smiles to himself, a man renewed, tipping his head back to appreciate the surrounding architecture in a new, stress-free light.

That is, until a whistle draws his attention.

“Oi!”

Aziraphale turns his head, searching for the source of the voice. That’s when he sees… him.

The first thing that really sticks out is his hair - tall, bright red spikes, shining with the amount of gel that must’ve been put into them to hold them in such an unusual shape.

Then, there’s the rest of him - just as obnoxious and intimidating. The piercings covering his face, several of them in his ears, by his brows, nose, and even the one in his bottom lip; the eyeliner smudged across his eyes; the tattoos, such as the snake winding around itself by his ear; and, of course, his clothes. He’s dressed in all black, with just subtle flashes of red all throughout - ripped black jeans, a black t-shirt with some band logo and then, to top it all off, a black leather jacket studded all over with long, sharp spikes. He’s even wearing sunglasses. In a church!

He’s a punk. Aziraphale has never met a punk before.

read full chapter on AO3 here!

#smolalienbeewrites #makeshift saints fic #good omens #ineffable husbands #gomens #azcrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #punk!crowley #good omens fic #good omens human au #fanfiction

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beardedmrbean · 7 days

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I know this is a weird ask but I need y’all’s prayers!

So if you’re the praying type please pray for my coworker who is in the process of finding out if she has ovarian cancer or not. She has a 7cm complex cyst they are tracking and if it grows by next month it’s cancer. She needs prayers and well wishes!

She’s only 27 so she’s so young 😭

I will absolutely do that and I know I have a lot of people that will join in and say a prayer for her too.

It's gotta be terrifying to have that happen at any age let alone that young.

Say some prayers, send some good vibes into the void, light a candle, whatever it is y'all do if you could do me the favor of sending out some good thoughts for a positive response on the least bad of the results I'd greatly appreciate it.

#anonymous #prayer request

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givemearmstopraywith · 4 months

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hi! I have an incarcerated friend who is very religious and thoughtful/curious about the world. I enjoy sending him books, but I think he would appreciate books about his interests with a religious bent and I’m not christian myself. I’m wondering if you have any recommendations for books related to community, restorative justice, mentorship, self-love, or self-understanding through a christian lens? thank you and no worries if this is too tough or specific a question!

this is a really lovely message, and a lovely think for you to think of doing- i wish all the best for you and your friend, and i will keep him in my prayers, for healing and peace.

i've tried to select books that are pretty easily accessible and inexpensive to purchase rather big academic texts- there's lots of those and i can rec them if you'd like, but i'm just not sure how easy they would be to obtain or share.

the book of forgiving: the fourfold path for healing ourselves and our world by desmond and mpho tutu is one of the most beautiful books i've ever read about guilt and healing.

made for goodness: and why this makes all the difference by desmond and mpho tutu

a theology of restorative justice: healing the broken world by dr maxwell shimba

jesus the liberator: a historical-theological reading of jesus of nazareth by jon sobrino

justice and love: a philosophical dialogue by rowan williams- slightly more accessible might be williams' trilogy being christian; being disciples; and being human, all of which are lovely, self-reflective books

the return of the prodigal son by henri nouwen

the wounded healer: ministry in contemporary society by henri nouwen (this is a bit out of left field, but it's about being of service to the church or your community if you've found yourself unable to operate within tradition methods because they are threatening or you have been excluded- this is something that resonates for me, and that imagine could resonate with your friend as well).

these books are not really theological texts, but they are what i read when i was beginning to cope with my own feelings of guilt, grief, and self-worth- they are, short easy reads, widely accessible, and just nice to have.

waiting for god by simone weil

the cloud of unknowing

the mirror of simple souls by marguerite porete

revelations of divine love by julian of norwich

the long loneliness by dorothy day

mother maria skobtsova: essential writings

#replies

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khaire-traveler · 6 months

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Your blog has helped me so much, showing that being human within our practices is acceptable, not to be ashamed of. Thank you for what you do, despite what negative comments say, I love and appreciate it so much!! Do you have any tips you would share with practitioners who fear approaching the Gods, such as in prayer or in general?

Hey, Nonny, thank you for the ask!

It really means a lot that I could help someone so much. I've been having an extremely hard day, so it was really nice to hear this. I greatly appreciate your kindness.

As for advice on being afraid to approach the gods, in prayer or otherwise, I actually had someone come to me about this recently. I think the best first step is recognizing where this fear comes from. Is it related to religious trauma, such as being told that your prayers bother the gods or being inherently afraid that they will smite you for no real reason? Is it related to interpersonal trauma, such as feeling like a burden when sharing your problems with others or feeling afraid around prominent fatherly figures? Although I'm obviously not a professional, I will say that 9 times out of 10, fear of approaching the gods is usually related to some kind of past traumatic experience that had left a bad taste in a person's mouth.

After discovering the root of this fear, I recommend slowly and gently working through it. It's best if you can do this with the help of a mental health professional, as I feel it's a more effective and healthier way of healing through trauma, but if you're unable to do this, please don't feel like you can't heal at all on your own. Make sure that you are gentle with yourself as you process what you've been through, and try to take note of when these fears become the most prominent. Try to gently correct yourself when you notice you're falling into your fear again. For example, let's say you're afraid that if you pray, the deity is going to be upset with you for speaking to them. Whenever you catch yourself thinking that way, try to remind yourself that people used to pray to these gods every single day for literally every reason under the sun; if the deity wasn't bothered by that, why would they be bothered now? And what if they don't get upset with you? What if, instead, they are actually super kind and inviting and accepting? Turning negative trains of thoughts and "what if's" into positive ones can be a big help.

The next thing I'd say to do is start small. Maybe write letters addressed to the gods or keep a prayer journal for your prayers. If communicating super directly is scary for you, maybe these more indirect methods will help you feel more at-ease. I'd recommend slowly becoming more comfortable with the presence of the gods. When you find yourself feeling good and calm, maybe just silently invite a deity to join and hang out with you. Getting used to their presence in times where you're feeling good may help you associate that deity with positive experiences and help you feel less fear as time goes on.

I hope that this was helpful for you! I wish you well on your journey ahead. Remember that the gods are far more compassionate than media and mainstream paganism would have us believe. They have worked alongside humanity for thousands upon thousands of years, looking after and supporting us throughout our various endeavors. They would not do those things if they didn't at least like us a little bit. Take care, and have a great day/night. ☺️🧡

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #anon asks #answered asks #deity communication #deity worship

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theteasetwrites · 8 months

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The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon | S1E2 Thoughts

⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️ do not read below the cut unless you’re okay with spoilers

Positive Thoughts

The opening scenes in Paris at the start of the outbreak? Genuinely got my heart pumping and my adrenaline rushing. I was actually freaked out. I wish TWD would have shown the outbreak actually happening more than they did. It would've been really interesting to see how each character ended up at the quarry, going all the way back to season 1 of TWD, but that's irrelevant lol

Camerawork is crazy good??? I mean, I don't really know anything about cameras but I thought that there were some really cool dynamic shots, especially in the flashbacks.

Isabelle is growing on me a LOT. I am so glad she is turning out to be her own character so far. I mean, I don't completely trust her because I think she definitely has her own agenda (can't really blame her), but I like her character. She hasn't annoyed me once which is crazy because even DARYL has annoyed me a few times in this episode lol

I loved the little detail of Sylvie being at the abbey when Isabelle arrives with Lily. Just a cool little detail where we see a little bit of Sylvie's story, too

The entire concept of Laurent being born to a walker is cool as hell and idc what anyone says. I wonder if him being born to a walker actually has some kind of effect on him. Of course, my first thought goes to maybe he is immune or something, or he carries the cure to the virus in his blood. I am so excited to see how that pans out. Idc if it's "ripping off" TLOU (I don't think it is tbh)

Speaking of Laurent, I have a newfound appreciation for him. He's so cute and sweet, and I felt bad for him when the children were picking on him

Lou's group is SO COOL. I love that they're a little group of children who raised themselves. Kinda reminds me of Jocelyn's kids from season 9 of TWD, but less evil. MUCH less evil. Not evil at all, actually. They remind me of the Lost Boys from the movie Hook, which is based on Peter Pan. That dinner scene was especially reminiscent of that for me

Daryl being undercover as a priest LOLIONGJWKDS

Daryl has some amazing sassy/cute moments in this episode. I think my personal favorite is when he loudly slurps down the soup at the dinner table. I also loved the little detail of Daryl starting to eat before everyone else/before they said grace, signifying how Daryl doesn't really have good table manners (which I love). It's so cute when he starts saying the prayer with food already in his mouth lol

And Norman's acting in this episode was once again so good. There's a scene when they're watching the TV where the camera slowly zooms in on Daryl. His smile begins to fade and you can just see in his eyes how much he misses home, and how much he wishes he could be with his family, even Merle, who he is probably thinking about, too, since he used to watch the show with him.

DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL US--

That annoying American was slightly entertaining. Mostly annoying but slightly entertaining as well

Daryl and Laurent are very cute. I love how Daryl sort of relates to him in that they were both outcasts as children

Negative Thoughts

There are a few things Daryl does in this episode that rubbed me the wrong way just a tad bit. Of course I still love him but I just don't understand some of his decisions lol. Like when he let the mule go instead of just getting off his ass and taking out those walkers. He could've done it! Especially with the help of Isabelle and Sylvie. They probably could've taken out that herd without sacrificing the mule. Just kind of a stupid decision imo. Unnecessarily cruel too. I also didn't get why Daryl locked Lou in that shed. Kinda not cool? He could've just said, "hey, you stay back and I'll handle this." I didn't really see the point in having him do that :/ and he lies a lot to Lou and the kids in order to get what he wants. I mean, I get that he doesn't owe anything to these kids, but still... just seems a little callous. It's giving Carol vibes lol. They're basically making Daryl do things the way Carol does them—by lying, manipulating, and being cruel to children. I like Daryl because of his kindness, not this weird deceitfulness that he has going on suddenly. Again, I get that he is in a foreign place and these are all strangers to him so why should he care, but it just really doesn't seem like our Daryl. Other than that, I liked Daryl a lot in this episode, but there were just some little things I didn't vibe with

This episode did seem to veer away from the main plot quite a bit. I wonder if Lou's group will return later to help Daryl and the others in his group, or if they were just a one and done storyline. While I loved this little adventure, it did seem to not really add to the overall arc, and the little scene at the end with Codron walking around the abbey did seem a bit shoehorned just to remind us of the actual plot, but who knows?

Neither Positive Nor Negative Thoughts

So lets talk about the bed scene. Idk. I didn't hate it because I didn't see anything romantic there between Daryl and Isabelle, BUT it was a little like... can't you guys just have there be two beds lol. I really just think it's baiting, once again. I don't feel any romantic connection between them, and I don't think the show is necessarily trying to get that across to us, but I do think that they're like "well if people do think this is a romance, it will get them to continue watching the show and see if they get together!" So basically I think it's just a way to get people interested, but I don't think anything will happen. I think they will stay friends, otherwise it would be very awkward, at least from the way their relationship is so far

That's about all I have to say I think! Thanks for reading my thoughts. Hoping to get Chapter 2 of Begin Again out before the next episode, but no promises <3

#the walking dead: daryl dixon #twd: daryl dixon #daryl dixon #the walking dead

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headcanonsandmore · 1 month

Text

'Stand and Deliver!' Chapter Four

Summary: Tegan normally finds the sunday service dull, but a certain pastors daughter may just liven things up for her…

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Read on AO3.

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For Tegan, the rest of Saturday passed in a haze of renewed acquaintances and friendships. She was invited over to Polly’s house, as well as being received at Ian and Barbara’s cottage for some home-made scones.

It was a good way to spend the day, Tegan had to admit. And, well, it also took her mind off of her current confusion regarding a certain pastor’s daughter.

When Tegan arrived back at her parents inn for their evening meal, Adric spent the entire time shooting knowing looks at his sister, who cooly ignored him. Adric knew a little too much for his own good and, while Tegan did appreciate that he didn’t seem to have any issues with it, she preferred not to comment on it. The last thing she needed was Adric accidentally blabbing to their parents about the matter. That would be a recipe for disaster, to say the least.

Tegan did eventually manage to fall asleep that night, although her sleep was fitful. Nonetheless, she found herself mostly rested by the time the dawn arrived. After a quick breakfast, the family changed into their Sunday best, and headed through Crofters Lodge towards the little chapel.

It wasn’t anything to write home about, of course. Crofter’s Lodge was not a large parish area, nor did it have a large congregation. The simple country chapel was adorned with little other than the bare essentials of pews, prayer books and a pulpit. Instead of an organ, there was a small piano, now rather care-worn with years of use and lack of funds for anything other than essential maintenance.

However, it had a homely feel, despite its modest trappings. But maybe that was just the familiarity of it, now renewed for Tegan after years spent in London.

Given that Tegan’s parents were the proprietors of the local inn, they were afforded the privilege of sitting in the row of pews second-from-the-front. Or, at least, Joy insisted that it was a privilege to her doubtful children. Tegan certainly didn’t find it much of a privilege; she had spent most of her childhood wishing she could be sat towards the back where no-one was watching her.

However, as she sat down on the pew, all thoughts of this nature disappeared from her mind.

Nyssa, sat in the pew just in front, turned in her seat to smile at her, cheeks dimpling as she did so. Her grey-green eyes sparkled despite the dim winter sunshine slipping through the windows of the chapel.

Blinking quickly and desperately trying to ignore her frantic heartrate, Tegan returned the smile.

‘Hello,’ she whispered, as the congregation all sat down around them. ‘You okay?’

Nyssa nodded.

‘Yes; yourself?’

Tegan nodded, smiling wider.

There was the unmistakable sound of Adric snorting next to her. Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. Nyssa gave a quick giggle and turned round to face the front again.

A few moment later, the congregation fell silent and Pastor Tremas strode up to the pulpit, smiling down at the assembled villagers.

‘A happy Sunday to you all,’ he said, kindly. ‘It is good to see you all here again. Especially, as my daughter reliably informs me, that Miss Jovanka has now returned from London.’

Tegan felt her cheeks flush as the congregation broke into polite applause. Nyssa turned in her seat again to flash a soft smile at her, and Tegan’s heart beat faster once again.

She held back the sigh that threatened to escape her lips as she smiled back at the pastor’s daughter. The rest of the congregation might as well have dissolved into the background. Tegan knew it was selfish, but she couldn’t help it; whenever Nyssa smiled at her, it was like the rest of the universe became less important.

The applause subsided after a few moments and, as her father began his sermon, Nyssa turned back around in her seat to face the front.

The sermon was fine, by all accounts, but Tegan had never been one to get very concerned with religious matters. She stood with everyone else when it was time to sing the hymns, and chorused “amen” when directed. Her brain was still buzzing with the giddiness that it had experienced when Nyssa had smiled at her, and it was hard to focus on anything else for the time being.

However, eventually the pastor finished his sermon and, now that religious matters had ceased, Tegan began to take notice again.

‘Now, as you all know,’ Pastor Tremas continued. ‘The chapel collection for poverty aid has been very successful this past month. You have all been incredibly generous to donate… how much was it, Nyssa?’

Startled, Nyssa stood up and pulled from the pocket of her dress a long piece of parchment. She turned to the congregation, looking a little flustered.

‘Er… I am p-pleased to report,’ she stammered. ‘That the collection this week has come to… ten pounds, five shillings and tuppence.’

There was a large amount of clapping, and Tegan joined in enthusiastically. She was happy to have an innocent reason to stare at Nyssa, and the pastors daughter seemed to blush under the praise from the assembled villagers.

‘Well done,’ said the Pastor, smiling proudly at his daughter. ‘Nyssa, you are a credit to us all.’

Face burning with embarrassment, Nyssa gave a quick courtesy and sat back down.

Pastor Tremas ended the service, and so the assembled villagers began getting to their feet (the older members grumbling as they did so) before heading out of the front doors of the chapel.

In the crush of bodies, Tegan lost sight of Nyssa, and was only able to get her bearings when she had followed her parents and Adric outside into the small churchyard. It was a rather pretty place, although the trees were still bereft of leaves given the season. At the very least, the rain had held off again, so that the air was simply cold as opposed to freezing and drizzling.

‘Nyssa seemed rather embarrassed,’ Joy said, as she linked her arm through William’s. ‘She’s normally very calm when reading out the donation totals.’

William nodded.

‘Yes,’ he replied, stroking his chin absentmindedly with his other hand. ‘I wonder why.’

‘I know why,’ Adric said, with a cheerful laugh. ‘It’s because of-ow!’

‘Tegan!’ Joy exclaimed. ‘Don’t elbow your brother!’

Tegan rolled her eyes, before shooting a glare at Adric. The boy had the decency to look apologetic.

‘Speaking of Nyssa, I best check on her,’ Tegan said. ‘I’ll see you all later.’

Joy looked confused, but William gently patted her on the arm and escorted her away. Adric gave a grin to Tegan before following them.

At which point, Benton appeared.

‘Hello,’ Tegan said, quickly. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have seen-’

‘I believe Miss Nyssa is sat on the bench in the graveyard,’ Benton interrupted, with a knowing -yet kind- smile. ‘And all alone, by the looks of it.’

‘Er, r-right. Thank you.’

With a fond chuckle, Benton doffed his hat and headed away.

Tegan followed the other path around the side of the chapel. She was glad that her boots were of hardened sturdy leather, as the mix of winter rains and cold weather had reduced the path to a somewhat muddy and watery surface.

Sure enough, Nyssa was sat on the bench in the graveyard, looking quietly out over the village. The bench was just underneath a large oak tree, drawing the eye towards the figure sat below, and to whom Tegan felt herself irresistibly drawn. Tegan hadn’t really had the chance to notice earlier, but the pastor’s daughter was wearing a lovely dress in very dark -almost midnight- blue, with her bonnet back with white frills. Even for an austere Sunday best, it was rather fetching on her.

‘Room for a little one?’

‘Oh, h-hello, Tegan’ Nyssa said, smiling quickly as she noticed Tegan’s approach. ‘Did you enjoy the service?’

‘I suppose,’ Tegan said, sitting down beside her. ‘I was more impressed with your fundraising, to be honest; I wouldn’t think such a small village would have so much spare cash to give.’

‘I was surprised too,’ Nyssa replied, with a chuckle. ‘But it is wonderful to see people being so generous. And it will definitely go a good way to helping the villagers currently out of work or struggling to make ends meet.’

Tegan smiled.

‘You really believe that, don’t you,’ she said, softly. ‘Your father wasn’t kidding about you being a credit to us all.’

Nyssa blinked quickly, and her cheeks seemed to flush.

‘I-I really don’t think the praise is necessary,’ she stammered. ‘But… thank you, Tegan. That… that means a great deal to me.’

‘Not like you to stumble over your words,’ Tegan giggled. ‘It’s not because of little-old-me, is it?’

‘Stop it!’ Nyssa said, softly slapping Tegan’s arm. ‘Don’t make fun!’

The two young woman lapsed into giggling, and Tegan relished the feeling of uncomplicated ease with which they sat together. There was something magical about being sat with Nyssa in this way, as if the day was just for the two of them. With the graveyard quiet around them, aside from the occasional call of a robin amongst the hedgerows.

It was little moments like this that Tegan held on to, and that she revisited in her quieter moments to put her mind as ease.

‘Thank you,’ Tegan said, softly, ‘for saving my life, by the way.’

‘W-what?’

‘Yesterday morning,’ Tegan said, confused as to Nyssa’s startled expression. ‘With that wardrobe, remember?’

‘O-oh, yes!’ Nyssa replied, quickly. ‘Well, no need to thank you; like I said, you would have done the same for me.’

‘Probably not as swiftly as you did,’ Tegan said. ‘I’ve never seen anyone move so quickly.’

‘Er… just instinct, I suppose. I have read about husbands pushing their wives out of harm’s way.’

‘We’re not married, Nys.’

Nyssa’s face burned red.

‘T-that’s very true, yes,’ she said, quickly. ‘Silly me.’

‘It’s sweet,’ Tegan replied. ‘I… I appreciate it, Nyssa.’

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and Tegan felt the faint stirrings of hope within her heart. What had Adric been implying earlier? That Nyssa hadn’t been flustered because of the congregation applauding her, but that Tegan had been?

Oh, how she wished she could be as brave as to enquire further.

But she couldn’t dare. To suggest anything else would be presumptuous, not to mention unfair to Nyssa.

One of these days, Nyssa would find a young man who she wished to marry, and that would be that. It hurt Tegan to imagine that, but she knew that she could do nothing to prevent it. And, in the long run, if a marriage made Nyssa happy, then Tegan was fine with that. Even if it did pain her to know that any future Nyssa would have would not be with Tegan by her side, at least in that sort of way.

‘You are too kind. Tegan, I wish that…’ -Nyssa’s eyes were fixed on Tegan’s for a second longer before looking down quickly at her own lap. ‘Oh, nevermind.’

There was a pause but Tegan was unable to voice her desire to enquire what Nyssa wished for. Fear choked her throat, and she crinkled the fabric of her dress underneath her hands.

‘Er… Nyssa?’

‘Yes?’

Tegan deliberated for a second.

‘I imagine you’ve already been aware of this, but there is due to be some dancing and singing at my parents inn this evening. It’s probably too much to ask but-’

‘O-oh, I see,’ Nyssa replied, blinking quickly. Her hands clasped the folds of her dress. ‘Tegan, I would love to… I-’

‘You’re probably busy,’ Tegan said, words stumbling over themselves. A nervous smile broke over her lips. ‘I was just wondering, you see. Mum normally keeps trying to get me to dance with Benton, and I think she might stop it if you’re there-’

‘W-well,’ Nyssa interrupted. She swallowed quickly before continuing. ‘I… being the pastors daughter doesn’t prevent me from dancing, of course. As long as I do not partake in any drinking, I’m sure my father will have no issues with me attending.’

‘Really?’ Tegan’s eyes widened, and she grinned. ‘That’s fantastic; thank you!’

‘My pleasure, Tegan. Although…’ -Nyssa looked up at her from under her long eyelashes. ‘I… I do not have much experience dancing with people.’

‘Oh, that’s no matter,’ Tegan replied. ‘You can… you can dance with me. If… if that’s okay?’

Nyssa reached out and squeezed Tegan’s hand softly.

‘That is more than okay, Tegan. I would consider it an honour.’

The two young woman shared a smile, and Tegan could see herself softly reflected in those grey-green orbs that she found both intoxicating and yet relaxing all at once. As Nyssa continued to gently squeeze her hand, Tegan felt -just for a moment- that maybe things weren’t as hopeless as she had once believed.

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Apologies for the delay between this chapter and the last (got sidetracked writing LOTR smut for Merrywyn day XD) but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. In the next chapter: dancing, pining and a new arrival to the village!

#'stand and deliver!'#highwayman!au #doctor who fanfiction #tegan jovanka #nyssa #nyssa of traken #tegan/nyssa #nyssa/tegan #indestructible #heathrow scientific #tyssa #tegan x nyssa #nyssa x tegan #adric #sergeant benton

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