#then falling to madness and corruption | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cowgiri · 2 months ago

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ᝰ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐍 .ᐟ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. he is a man of the cloth. a man of devotion, of restraint—or at least, he tries to be. but you, with your sweet mouth and sinful words and scandalous clothes, have driven him to the edge of madness.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. priest!zayne, temptress!reader, blasphemy, corruption, loss of virginity, mastrubation, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), fingering, clit stim, slight voyeurism, sex in public place, sexual intercourse, no protection, cervix kissing, panty sniffing, creampie, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, lots of nasty talk in confessionals, pussy whipped zayne

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 6.5k

the church was a furnace, the air thick and heavy with the heat of a relentless summer day. sunlight softly spilled through the stained-glass of the church, casting hues of red, gold, and blue across the worn wooden pews and the stone floors. the air was scented with aged hymnals and beeswax from candles that flickered at the altar. the heady aroma of incense created a nearly intoxicating atmosphere.

you sat beside your grandmother, who silently recited prayers under her breath with rosary beads in hand. your mind, however, was very far from divine and holy thoughts. you had been coming to the church for a month now—don't get me wrong, you were the furthest thing from religious. matter of fact, a month ago you wouldn't have been caught dead in a church unless it was a funeral and you were the one in the casket. but for the sake of your grandmother, you decided to try and make an effort, even if that was just showing up for sunday mass.

your eyes wandered to the front of the church, where father zayne stood. his deep voice echoed through the sanctuary as he delivered the sermon, each word hanging in the air. he stood at the pulpit, his tall, commanding figure bathed in the warm, golden light streaming through the stained-glass windows.

the high white collar at his neck was pristine, but it did nothing to hide the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin, catching the light as he moved. the tight black cassock he wore was perfectly tailored to his lean frame. the fabric clung to his broad shoulders and emphasized the definition of his chest. the heat had caused the fabric to stick to him in all the right places, and every shift of his body revealed just enough to make your imagination run wild.

his almost always perfect hair was slightly damp and tousled, the strands falling across his forehead in a way that was effortlessly disheveled. his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his neck, disappearing beneath the white collar, and the sight was enough to make even the most devout parishioner's thoughts stray into dangerous territory.

when his gaze landed on you, your breath felt trapped in your lungs. it was as if he could see the sinful thoughts swirling in your mind, the way your heart raced every time he spoke, the way your skin prickled with heat that had nothing to do with the summer sun.

after the service, you lingered in the church, pretending to light a candle while your grandmother chatted with some of the other parishioners. you found yourself seated at one of the pews as your eyes followed zayne moving about the sanctuary.

even as he conversed with the other churchgoers, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, probably due to your "inappropriate" attire for church. it was like he could tell with each visit you made that your skirts were growing shorter and your shirts were getting tighter. you noticed father zayne to be an extremely observant man.

he was a man of god, and you were the complete opposite.

he approached you, his shadow falling over your own. "you've become a regular here at saint mary's," he remarked, clearing his throat.

"my grandmother drags me here every sunday. she says that i've 'lost' my faith," you replied. he was playing right into your hands by speaking to you first. you had been plotting on him and little did he know what was to come.

"lost it?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly. anyone could tell by the way that you were dressed in a church that you had long lost your faith. but who knew maybe he was one that didn't like to judge a book by it's cover.

"well, never really had it in the first place, i think," you shrugged indifferently.

"interesting." he nodded, taking a seat at the bench beside you. his eyes settled on the candle you'd lit, then back to you. "but you come every sunday, nonetheless. why is that?"

"i like listening to you talk, you have a nice voice," you replied shamelessly. "and you are quite easy on the eyes, father."

"i'm flattered," he laughed as his lips quirked into a slight smile. "you seem to enjoy the sermons, but you never take communion. you never participate in the service."

"that's... true," you agreed. "it's not something that i believe in."

his eyes seemed to take in the sight of you. he glanced at your breasts, which strained against the tight white fabric of your shirt. you saw the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. man of the cloth or not, at the end of the day, he was still a man.

"well," he began, his voice lower than before, "do you believe in god?" he asked, his gaze flicking to the hem of your skirt. you fought the urge to fidget beneath his stare.

the way his eyes raked over your body was not that of a man of faith, but a man of flesh.

"no, i don't," you replied honestly, feeling goosebumps spread across your skin. "i think that maybe people just use the church as a crutch, a way to justify their own wrongdoings. i think that religion has the power to tear people apart."

"that's a dangerous way to think. i could have you excommunicated for such thoughts," he warned, a dark undertone creeping into his voice. it was as if he knew your words had been a way to bait him, to draw him in and tempt him to sin.

"but i'm not one of your congregation," you countered with a smile. "so i'd rather not be punished for my beliefs," you added. the sound of your voice seemed to draw his eyes to your mouth, and he stared at you with an intense hunger in his gaze.

he finally looked away, clearing his throat. "well, i should be on my way. enjoy your sunday," he murmured before turning to walk toward the back of the church.

"you as well, father," you called after him, smiling to yourself. you knew you'd see him again. maybe it was the thrill of the forbidden that challenged you, but something in you craved his attention. you wanted to know what happened to men of the cloth when they finally broke their vow of celibacy.

and you knew exactly what to do to get that reaction from him.

a month went by and your visits to the church became more frequent. you'd sit in the sanctuary praying or at least pretending to pray. zayne would sit at the front of the sanctuary, doing what priests did, sometimes occasionally checking in. but his focus seemed to waver whenever you were near. every now and then, his eyes would flicker up, catching yours with a look that was hard to decipher. it wasn't just disdain, though that was certainly part of it. there was something else simmering beneath the surface.

you could feel his gaze like a physical touch, lingering on you longer than it should. it was as if he was trying to figure you out, to understand why you kept coming back when you so openly rejected everything the church stood for.

his jaw would tighten, his fingers gripping the rosary beads in his hand a little tighter. the way he looked at you was almost accusatory, as though you were deliberately testing his patience, his resolve. almost like a devil lying in wait for a moment of weakness.

you would watch him as his eyes darkened with something that looked almost like...lust. you craved that look on him. you craved the way his breathing slowed, the way the beads in his hand clicked faster when you were near. you craved it all, every bit of reaction you could pull from him.

and so you began to make a show for him, slowly bending over in your short skirts, or adjusting your tits in front of him. your actions had gotten bolder over the weeks.

there were times when you swore you caught a glimpse of something, just a flash of something perverted and more sinful in his eyes. you wondered if he even knew he was revealing himself, showing his true nature. but it wasn't enough, he was a tougher nut to crack than you thought.

it was time to try something different.

the following sunday, you returned to the church before mass, this time alone. you slipped into the confessional and waited for him to join you. the confessional was small, cloaked in shadow, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and faint incense. you could hear the soft rustle of fabric as he shifted on the other side of the screen, his presence palpable even through the thin screen that separated you. his voice, deep and velvety, broke the silence.

"speak, my child," he said, his tone calm and soothing.

"bless me, father, for i have sinned," you began, "this is my first time in a confessional."

"what kind of sins have you committed?" the sound of his voice is huskier than you've ever heard before.

"well, father...i'm not quite sure how to put this delicately," you murmured as you fidget, your thighs pressing together. your cunt was already fluttering and all it took was hearing that voice of his. you heard the soft rustle of his cassock as he shifted, awaiting your confession.

"but there's this man," you began, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart in your ears. "and he's very devout. i'm sure he's very pure too," you said as your palm slid over your bare thigh. your clit was throbbing against the fabric of your panties, the ache growing with every passing second.

he remained silent but the sound of his breathing grew heavier, the click of his rosary beads against each other grew faster.

"well," you continued, your thumb slipping beneath the hem of your skirt as you trailed it higher and higher, "this man...he's very handsome. and so holy." your eyes fluttered closed as your fingers slipped between your thigh, teasing your needy clit over the cloth of you panties.

"sometimes i imagine him touching me," you whispered as you slipped your fingers into your panties and brushed your finger over your swollen pearl. your nerve endings sparked to life, his presence alone had your arousal more heighten than usual. you imagined the look on his face as he pictured it in his mind, you sitting there in the confessional touching yourself.

"what do you do, father? when a man of cloth such as yourself finds himself devoured by lust, " you whispered, the sound barely audible between your ragged breaths. you teased your finger against your entrance.

oh, the amount of money you would pay to see the look on his face right now. was his jaw clenched the way it did when you teasingly bent over in your short skirts? were his knuckles white from gripping his rosary beads the way he did when he trailed his eyes over your skimpy shirt? or even better was he leaning closer to the screen, listening to the slick sounds of your cunt.

you slipped your finger into your heat—a low whimper slipping past your lips. the sound seemed to echo through the confessional.

"do you confess them, father? do you beg forgiveness?" you taunted as you began to tease yourself, the faint sounds of your finger moving in and out of your cunt, the squelching and lewd noise filling the space between you two.

"i beg for strength," his voice was strained, and the words sounded like they had been torn from his throat against his will. you smiled to yourself as you continued to chase your orgasm, your moans growing louder.

the feeling of his gaze through the screen, the knowledge that he could hear you and knew exactly what you were doing, was enough to send your senses into overdrive.

"i don't think we should continue this conversation," his voice came out thick and heavy. you heard a slight click in his voice that betrayed his arousal. you were finally able to hear that thickening of his voice, it made you want to push him further and further, it was like music to your ears.

"why father? it's just between us."

his breathing came out harsher, almost labored. "because you're a temptress," he gritted out, the words leaving a thick, heavy tone lingering in the air.

"oh? so you don't touch yourself?" you asked. you leaned your head against the screen, your hand moving quicker against your cunt. the screen was thin and you knew he could smell your arousal, the sweet, heady scent of it.

"i don't believe that's an appropriate question to ask," he responded almost too quickly. but you noticed the way his voice cracked with his answer. just the thought of you being the first to touch him, to milk his neglected and heavy cock drove you closer to the edge.

you were so close. the air was thick in the room and you knew that he could practically taste your orgasm.

"i want to touch myself for you," you whispered. "the way you look at me...it's like you want to taste me, father. and i want you to."

your words were cut off by a sharp gasp as you tipped over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like waves, your body shuddering beneath the pleasure. you kept your eyes shut until your breathing had returned to normal.

when you opened them again, father zayne was gone.

as you stepped out of the confessional, you glanced back to see him standing at the altar, his back to you, his head bowed as if in prayer. but you knew better. you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides. he was fighting it—fighting you—and that only made the game more thrilling.

you walked out of the church, the summer heat wrapping around you like a warm embrace. this was far from over, and you knew it. zayne might have ended the session, but the look in his eyes, the tremor in his voice—it told you everything you needed to know. he was tempted.

and you were just getting started.

"father, if i didn't know any better, i'd say that you are avoiding me," you purred into his ear. your body brushed against his back as you snuck up on him. he had been avoiding you since you'd made your confession a week before. it had been long enough that you'd grown restless.

he stiffened in place, his spine straightening as he gazed straight ahead. but his voice, when he spoke, was tight with tension. "perhaps i am."

the church was empty except for the two of you. mass had ended and the sun was setting. the shadows were growing longer, stretching over the church floor, darkening everything. you had snuck in while the other parishioners had filtered out, intent on confronting the priest who had been avoiding you all week.

you wouldn't let him get away that easily, not yet.

"why?" you whispered, your lips brushing the curve of his ear. the air in the church was thick with heat and with anticipation, a heavy tension settling between the two of you.

the muscles of his throat convulsed as he swallowed. "because...i'm afraid i don't trust myself around you."

that was progress. that was an admission that meant a lot more than he probably realized. you stepped closer, your breasts pressing against his back, your thigh slipping against his. his breathing quickened as he fought against whatever temptation you'd stirred within him. you watched the muscles of his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists. he looked like a man fighting for the last bits of control that he possessed.

"you may think me a temptress, father, and you may not agree with my ways but i am not a liar. i think a man such as yourself deserves to experience love and desire and everything between," you whispered in his ear and before he could respond, you slipped around to his front.

you pushed onto your toes and your lips brushed against his, softly.

"allow me to make one more confession to you, father. if you don't change your mind, i will leave you be and not return," you murmured. there was no way you were letting him go that easily. you'd already gotten this far, why stop now.

his eyes narrowed as he searched your face, and you could practically see the war happening within him. he knew that you were tempting him, that he was walking into a trap.

the confessional booth was dark and warm, the scent of aged wood filling the small space.

"proceed," he bit out, his voice sharp with restraint. you didn't wait any longer, diving into your confession.

"father, i have done many things i am not proud of, but my greatest sin is lust. a lust for pleasure. a lust for you," your words were barely above a whisper as you continued, the sound of the rosary beads clicking against each other the only sound between you and him. his breathing had already quickened, the beads clicking faster against each other.

"and when i think of you, father, i think of how i would touch you," you murmured, the sound of your breaths heavy in the small space between the two of you, "i imagine my hands sliding over your hard stomach. i imagine pushing up your cassock and wrapping my hand around your cock," your words left you both breathless. you could here the shuffling of his cassock over the silent buzz of the fan.

"what i truly desire is a taste of your cock, to hear the sounds of your moans and to see the sight of you coming undone, your seed dripping down my chin. to feel the heavy weight of your body on top of mine. i desire to take your virginity, your innocence, your purity."

"are you okay, father?" you asked, "you're breathing awfully hard," you teased.

you didn't dare imagine the expression on his face. you didn't have to. you could feel his eyes on you, boring into the screen. you could practically hear his heart racing, the blood rushing to his cock. the thought of him hard for you had your clit pulsing, your cunt clenching.

you squirmed beneath the fabric of your skirt, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra.

"yes, i am fine," he answered, his voice gruff with restraint. the sound of cloth shifting against cloth echoed through the space between you two, his breathing was suspiciously shallow.

you rose to your feet and exited your side of the confessional. you pulled back the curtain of the confessional on his side. the faint light streaming from the sanctuary illuminated him enough for you to see the look of arousal on his face. his cheeks were flushed, his eyes heavy with lust, his lips parted with shallow breaths.

the restraint of father zayne had simmered down to the faint shade of pink on his cheeks that spread to the tips of his ears. he looked like a man on the edge of madness, his eyes wild with something unspoken. you smiled to yourself, enjoying the effect you'd had on him. for once, it was good to know that you weren't the only one being driven to madness.

the air in the confessional seemed to grow hotter, the heat emanating from him enough to set your pulse racing. your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes traveled his body. he'd removed his cassock, sitting before you in a thin white shirt that was soaked with sweat. the cotton clung to him, revealing the definition of his hard body.

the fabric was nearly translucent, revealing the hard lines of his chest and the faint outline of his abdomen. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the corded muscles of his forearms, and his face was flushed. you could tell it wasn't from the heat of the blazing summer—it was from arousal.

he sat on the bench, his thighs spread wide, his cock already hard and heavy, straining against the fabric of his trousers. the sight of him in such a state was enough to leave you breathless. he said nothing, merely gazing at you with a hunger in his eyes.

you didn't hesitate, stepping forward and dropping to your knees before him. he reached out to grip your wrist, pulling you closer until you were wedged between his knees. his hand cupped the back of your neck, drawing your head closer until your mouth was nearly flush with his, breathing softly against your lips. the heat radiating from him was enough to make your skin tingle with awareness. the thick scent of arousal surrounded you both, making your senses go into overdrive.

he traced the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. he seemed to be savoring every inch of you, committing your features to memory. he licked his lips before leaning in, and the first brush of his mouth against yours left you both groaning.

his hands slid beneath your shirt, sliding over the bare skin of your back as he pulled you closer. he didn't waste any time, his tongue dipping into the warmth of your mouth. the kiss was deep and hungry, filled with all the desire he'd been fighting for weeks. you clutched at the front of his shirt, twisting it in your fingers as you melted against him.

his hands roamed your body, his palms sliding over the curve of your hips, dipping lower until they were beneath your skirt. he gripped your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh as he deepened the kiss. you were panting against his lips when he finally released you. your fingers slid through his hair, keeping his head tilted up so you could press another kiss against his mouth. but then his hands moved, sliding around to the front of your thighs. his fingers trailed over your pussy, the thin fabric of your panties the only barrier between you.

he groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking forward at the contact. his cock strained against the fabric, eager to be freed. you didn't make him wait, your hands reaching for the hem of his slacks as you pushed them down, revealing his straining cock.

it was long and thick, the head swollen with arousal. you couldn't help yourself, your hand reaching out to wrap around the base of his cock. his eyes fluttered closed as you stroked him, his head tipping back. a low groan spilled from his lips as you teased the tip of his cock, smearing the fluid that had gathered over his slit.

you took your time, enjoying the sight of his pleasure. your lips trailed over his chest, sucking at his nipples until they were red and swollen. your tongue trailed lower until you were licking a path over the length of his cock. he gripped your hair, tugging your head back as he gazed at you with a wild look in his eyes.

"please," he whined as you settled between his knees, his cock at the entrance of your lips. never in his thirty years of life has he ever been this desperate. he wanted those plump lips of your to be the first and last to milk his virgin cock.

you opened your mouth and his cock slid inside, the head resting against the roof of your mouth as your lips wrapped around him. your tongue swirled over the head of his cock, your throat fluttering with a moan as he began to thrust his hips.

his hand tightened in your hair as he thrust into your mouth, a string of curses falling from his lips. he muttered a litany of curses under his breath, his hips working into a frenzy as he fucked your mouth.

you pressed a palm to his thigh, holding yourself in place as he thrust deeper into your mouth. your eyes watered but you didn't let that stop you. the sounds of his moans, the feeling of him losing control with each passing second. it was music to your ears, and it made your pussy wetter.

you hollowed your cheeks as he began to fuck your throat, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. the pressure built in his balls as he neared his release, his movements becoming erratic and wild. you moaned around his cock as he pressed deeper into your throat, your fingers digging into his thighs. the sound of you choking on his cock seemed to push him over the edge.

he moaned loudly, his cock spurting against the roof of your mouth. you swallowed down his cum, greedily drinking it all. you sucked him through his orgasm until he was spent, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet sound.

he collapsed back against the confessional, his breathing ragged and loud. you rested your head in his lap for a moment before looking up at him.

"lord, forgive me," he panted, his breathing slow but returning to normal. but the look on his face was far from asking for forgiveness, he wanted more. his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip.

"perhaps this is your first sin, father," you teased as you shifted to your feet. you stood up and removed your panties. he watched you, his gaze raking over the curves of your body.

"what do you want me to do to you?" he asked as you tossed your soaked panties on his spent cock before turning towards the exit of the confessional.

you glanced back at him, your smile devious. the sight was one to behold, his eyes were drowning with desire, his cheeks blazing with lust. his cock adorned with your lace panties and still twitching from his release.

"oh, father, i've already gotten what i wanted from you. the rest...well, that's for another time," you winked at him before stepping out of the confessional. the darkness enveloped him once more and you slipped away, disappearing into the sanctuary. you knew that this was only just the beginning.

the thrill of temptation had turned into the thrill of something more. you'd finally managed to tempt him into sinning. the next step would be much harder. he'd have to break his vow of celibacy with you.

the following week, you didn't return to the church. you didn't show up to mass on sunday's. you didn't come to confessionals in the early mornings. you left him alone to dwindle with his thoughts.

soon zayne found that the memory of your lips wrapped around his cock was only thing in his head. his body ached for more. the taste of your cherry lipgloss, the feel of your soft skin beneath his fingers.

he knew it was wrong, it was unholy to think of such things. but he couldn't help himself. the memory of you had consumed him whole. he could swear that he could still smell the scent of your arousal mixed with your floral perfume. as if it was engraved in his soul and etched into his skin.

it had been too long, much too long without your touch. he needed it to breath. your absence was like a knife stabbed straight into his heart. he couldn't even look at the confessional booth without having flashbacks of you fingering yourself and sucking his cock.

everywhere he looked, there was a lingering reminder of you. when he looked amongst the churchgoers in the pews, he would think of the way you'd inch your skirt up higher whenever his gaze landed on you.

he couldn't sleep, and when he did sleep it was your lips he saw haunting him. his cock throbbed at the thought of you and you only. he would have to give in to you, but he would never admit it to your face.

he'd spend his sleepless nights fisting his cock to memories of you. when that wasn't enough he drown himself in the scent of your panties and imagine that it was your hands rubbing his cock instead of his. he would remember how your cunt smelled, sweet and heady and more potent than anything he'd ever experienced.

you had won.

the temptation was no longer just a sin, but something more. a need. you had unleashed a monster on the loose, and he would not stop until you had given him everything he wanted. and he wanted all of you. he wanted your cunt, your ass, your mouth. he wanted it all, and he'd have it if it was the last thing he did.

and so he waited for your return, his body restless for the touch he'd grown accustomed to.

his eyes would be scanning the sanctuary each sunday, watching as the other people filtered in. he waited for your smile, your voice, your eyes. he would wait forever if he had to.

you were a temptation, a demon he couldn't resist. and soon he'd give in. the devil had him on a leash and you were holding the other end. and at your first command he'd kneel.

the summer days had begun to dwindle, the autumn winds rolling in over the hills. the leaves had just begun to fall from the trees, blanketing the ground in a warm shade of red, gold, and orange.

you'd returned to the church one evening and patiently laid in wait in zayne's study. you'd known that his resolve had grown weak, that his body yearned for yours.

his study was small and dim, the walls lined with bookshelves and the room lit by the flickering flame of a single candle. the heavy scent of aged books and leather clung to the air, filling your lungs as you inhaled. the shadows that danced across the walls gave the room a romantic atmosphere, but you'd never been one for romance.

the door clicked open, and father zayne stepped in, his movements quiet as he glanced around the room. he seemed to take in his surroundings before his gaze found you.

"father," you greeted, sauntering toward him. he stood, frozen in place, watching you with a look that was almost predatory. you stepped closer until you were toe to toe, and the feeling of his breath against your face made your cunt pulse.

"i've been waiting for you," he admitted, his voice a deep rasp. his hand reached out, cupping the curve of your ass. you shivered beneath his touch, the feeling of his palm against your skin enough to light a fire in you. he pulled you against him, his hips cradling yours. his cock was hard and straining against the front of his cassock.

"have you now, father?" you teased, your hands sliding over his chest. you'd missed the feel of his body against yours, had missed the heat of his skin beneath your fingertips. you pushed his cassock open, your hands sliding down his stomach until you felt the head of his cock. he groaned, his breath hot against your neck as you began to stroke his cock through his pants.

"yes," he admitted, the word barely above a whisper. his lips pressed against your neck, his mouth trailing over your skin until he was sucking at the curve of your throat. you tipped your head back, his teeth nipping at your skin and sending a jolt of arousal through you.

the way his mouth felt against your skin was like magic. you wanted that mouth on other parts of your body, parts that you'd been craving his touch against.he pulled you back by the hair, his eyes dark and hungry.

"i want to taste you," he groaned, the sound rough with arousal.you stood on shaky legs and began to undress, removing your clothing until you stood in nothing but your panties. he watched you hungrily, his hand reaching out to brush against your breasts. you smiled as you slipped your panties down your thighs, kicking them to the side. his eyes were trained on your naked body, and you could practically see the hunger growing in him.

you stepped closer, and his hands went to your hips. he plopped you down on his desk, settling your thighs on his shoulders. you watched as he dropped to his knees, his face hovering just inches from your pussy.

the first touch of his tongue against your clit sent a jolt of electricity through your body. you arched your back, your breath catching in your throat.the thought of a man so devout being brought to his knees by your cunt was enough to send you spiraling over the edge.

he laved at your puffy clit, his tongue swirling around the small bud with hungry strokes. he seemed fascinated by it, exploring every inch until he was sure he had it memorized. the first stroke of his tongue against the slit of your cunt made your toes curl. he licked you like a man who had never tasted heaven before, but now had his chance and wouldn't let it slip away.

he pressed a palm against you, spreading you wider for his tongue. he dove in, licking you with long, hard strokes. his tongue was magic, the way he ate at your cunt like a man starved. you writhed against his tongue, your eyes fluttering closed as he worked you toward an orgasm.

your cunt clenched around the feeling of emptiness, your body searching for something to fill you. his fingers brushed against your entrance and you almost wept with relief. you wanted them inside you, wanted to feel the thick length of him.

you leaned back against his desk, watching him as he fucked you with his fingers. he began to eat at your pussy with a hunger that would leave you breathless, his tongue sliding in and out of your pussy with hard, wet strokes. your clit throbbed against his tongue and you tipped your head back and screamed as the pleasure rolled through you.

he didn't stop, he didn't even pause as he fucked you through your orgasm. the feeling of his tongue and fingers moving in and out of you sent you into overdrive. your pussy clenched around his fingers as he continued to eat at you. it was like he was in a trance, only focusing on bringing you pleasure.

you gripped at his hair, pulling him up from between your legs. his face was red and flushed, his eyes glazed over with arousal. he was breathless as he gazed up at you, his lips and chin wet from your arousal.

he rose to his feet, his cock straining against his pants. you reached down to unzip him and freed his cock, the thick head springing free. you pumped it slowly with your hand, his cock growing even harder in your hand as he watched.

"i want to be inside you," he whispered, his hands cupping your breasts. he squeezed at the flesh and you gasped, the feeling of his cock against your thigh enough to make your cunt clench. he'd been a man of god for so long, but the touch of you had brought him back to life. he was a man again, with a man's desires and needs. you had been the catalyst for his descent into sin and he had no intention of stopping.

"then take me," you answered, your lips pressing against his. he moaned into your mouth as you guided his cock toward your entrance. he paused for a moment before pushing in, the head of his cock stretching you open. you gasped, your pussy clenching around him. his face pressed against your throat, his breathing coming out in shallow, ragged breaths.

"oh god," he gasped as he pushed deeper inside you. you had never been with a virgin before and the thought that you were his first sent a thrill through your body. he stretched you wider as he pushed inside until he was seated at the hilt.

"move," you gasped as he paused. he began to move, his strokes slow and deep yet inexperienced. his hips worked against yours in slow movements. his breathing quickened as he began to move faster, the sound of your cunt sucking him in filling the room.

you clutched at him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he began to pump into you. his breathing grew quick, his thrusts becoming erratic. you gripped at him, holding onto him as he fucked into you. the sound of your breathing mingled with that of his, echoing off the walls of the study.

his fingers reached down and gently strummed your overstimulated clit. your orgasm was immediate and intense, your cunt squeezing around him as you came.

his cock felt like magic, the feeling of it rubbing against your walls making you shiver. the friction was enough to bring you back to the edge and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. his breaths came in pants as he fucked you harder, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to lose control.

"you feel so good," he groaned against your throat. his words sent shivers down your spine. "gonna fuck my cum into your pretty cunt."

he began to rut into you, his breathing coming in pants as his thrusts turned wild and erratic. the thick tip of his cock bruising your cervix at a brutal pace that hurt so deliciously. you clutched at his back, holding on as he began to come inside you.

his release set you off and your orgasm crashed over you. your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop of his cum from his cock. you rode the wave of your orgasm, your cunt pulsing with pleasure. he collapsed against you, his forehead pressing against your shoulder.

you held him in place, running your fingers through the thickness of his hair as his breathing began to return to normal. his cock slipped out of you with a lewd squelch—his eyes transfixed on the mixture of his cum and your cream that painted your cunt and his cock.

"i can't resist you," he whispered against your skin. you ran your fingers through his hair.

"who said you had to?" you murmured back, running your fingers over the curve of his jaw.

you tilted his chin up until he was gazing up at you. the look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, and that was what had sealed your fate. you had never thought to want to keep him, but there it was, a new feeling stirring to life inside you.

he was the one man you could never resist and you had a feeling that he would always be so. you'd have to keep him, keep him locked away for yourself. because the truth of the matter was, you could never let him go. he was yours and yours alone. and you would make sure of that.

he would be your little secret.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader smut #lads #zayne smut #zayne x reader #zayne x you #lads smut #zayne fic #zayne #lads x reader #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader smut #zayne imagines

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sukumna · 21 days ago

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NEED to see gojo and toji with a good girl. maybe you can do how they react to having the opposite. only if you want 😋

┌─ .✦ WITH THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT THEY PREFER part one

characters. multi jjk.

authors note. I too wanted to see gojo with a good girl. so here you go angel face! also i couldn’t come up with a better word than ‘prefer’ 😭 BUT WHATEVER YOU ARE!! THEY PREFER YOU

✦ — gojo satoru, with a good girl.

at first, he’s amused. like really? no fight? no attitude? but once he sees how sincerely you want to please him, something inside him shifts—gets more gooey and slow. he likes corrupting you. his praise is so filthy it’s practically degrading. whispers sweet things after he break you. in the end though he’s the love drunk one. “fuck—you’re really letting me do whatever I want… you’re dangerous, baby.”

✦ — geto suguru, with a brat.

he laughs when you act out. he likes watching you throw a tantrum. he breaks you down with patience by using rope and eye contact. keeps you restrained and aching until you beg him to take control again. he’s not mad. he’s disappointed—and that’s worse. “are you done embarrassing yourself, or do you need help remembering your place?”

✦ — naoya zenin, with a brat.

he’s pissed. his ego demands respect and you decide to challenge him? he snaps. he doesn’t get flustered though—he gets mean. “you think mouthing off makes you strong? pathetic.” grabs your jaw, fucks you face-down ass up, makes you cry for being disrespectful. every bratty act gets met with punishment until you learn to bow. he won’t stop until you’re trembling and whimpering his name.

✦ — toji fushiguro, with a good girl.

your obedience catches him off guard. but once you obey without question? he gets mean in the most delicious way. he tests just how far your obedience goes by fucking you like he hates you. imagine his surprise when he sees his good girl taking the rough pounding like it’s love. “tch. so fuckin’ obedient… bet you’d let me ruin you and still thank me.”

✦ — nanami kento, with a brat.

visibly annoyed. the glasses come off and the sleeves roll up. but deep down? he enjoys putting you back in place by edging you for hours so he gives you rules he knows you’ll break. he’s known for being calm and clinical, but underneath that? he’s filthy. you don’t act out for a while after he’s done. “I suggest you get it out of your system now.”

✦ — sukuna ryomen, with a good girl.

he thinks it’s boring—until he realizes how much power he has. a girl who worships him? you become his entirely. calls you his little worshipper. makes you beg for his cruelty—and calls it love. “you’d kneel for me without even being told? fuck. I could do anything to you.”

✦ — choso kamo, with a good girl.

he’s… stunned. like emotionally overwhelmed. this soft, obedient energy? he doesn’t know what to do with it. he gets so gentle with you and your body but later? he starts testing—just a little roughness, a little teasing—trying to see if you’ll still be good. and when you are? he falls harder. calls you his girl in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. “you… trust me? just like that?”

#sukumna.#gojo x reader #gojo smut #choso x reader #choso smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #toji x reader #toji smut #geto x reader #geto smut

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bunni-v1 · 3 months ago

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May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader #shadow milk crk #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #shadow milk cookie crk #put me down bro

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xenteaart · 4 months ago

Text

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #railway chan #railway bang chan #my writing #my fic #skz fanfic #bang chan x y/n #chan x y/n

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satorena · 1 year ago

Text

❛ I'LL HYPNOTIZE YOU WITH THIS P*SSY ! ❜

ᥫ᭡ featuring. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, n. kento, k. choso

content warning. explicit content (mdni). pūssydrunk!men. oral (f). face sitting. overstimulation. virgin!choso. cowgirl/lotus. backshots. breath play. brēēding kink. unprotected sex. daddy kink. dom/sub undertones. mirror sex. virgin!reader with suguru (do not lose your virginity like this). corruption kink. afab!reader + feminine descriptions.

ᥫ᭡ rena's note. reupload cuz it got flagged weeks ago and i never noticed :P

gojo ☆ satoru

“could be here for hours—shit baby, y’taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

his praises fall deaf to your ears as your mind blanks, brain melting to mush at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue lapping at your folds. your hands claw at his snowy white tresses, fingers carding through his hair and tugging onto his scalp.

when satoru ate pussy, he put his entire being in it— and it only got worse on the rare occasions you’d do him the favour of sitting on his face. he’d never half ass such an opportunity, long fingers gripping onto your ass tightly and spreading the cheeks apart to flick his tongue between the private spaces.

“talk to me princess, tell me how good it feels.” he pops your clit out of his mouth, warm breath fanning over the bundle of nerves. you jolt from the strange yet pleasurable feeling, muscles tensing and contracting over his face, resulting in your slick to drip down onto his chin, staining his face even more in your arousal. “c’mon, flatter me, pretty baby.”

“f-fuck, toru, don’t stop!” you moan wantonly, fat tears building at your lash line. your thighs press at the side of his head when he hums against your clit, diving deeper into your weeping cunt. he drags an index finger from the crevice of your ass all the way up front to your swollen clit, collecting slick along the way. “‘s great— so fuckin’ good, ngh, please—keep going!”

your stomach tightens when you feel his digit slip into your clenching pussy, plunging knuckle deep. you can’t help the moan that rips at your throat, toes curling as he immediately aims for the spongy spot that has you seeing stars.

you look down at him and you’ve got the prettiest look on your face— eyes misty with tears, your flushed cheeks stained with fallen tears you couldn’t contain, pouty lips glossy and trembling. draping over your frame is his button up top, unbuttoned all the way down, perky buds from your breast rising up in arousal.

gojo feels his balls tighten at your lewdness alone. he’s so hard it hurts, thighs rubbing one against the other for relief. if you keep digging your nails into his scalp in that painful way you do, rocking your hips into his face and swallowing him whole inside your cunt to use him in order to chase your own pleasure, he’s bound to cum untouched.

only you could pull something like this out of him.

his eyes darken in the way it does whenever he’s particularly on a high about something passionate, and he knows from that pleading look in your blown out pupils that he’s got to make you blackout. not entirely for your own pleasure, but for his own too. there was no better feeling in this world than being sprayed by your essence all in his face, folds gaping and clenching down on his fingers as your clit weeped and released your juices pathetically.

you’re not even sure when it happens but one minute you’re facing the headboard of your bed and the next your head dangles off the edge of the bed, back laid on the mattress with your legs hanging off his broad shoulders.

gojo gives you no time to process the switch in positions as he lays flat on his stomach and latches his kiss bitten lips onto your cunt. he swipes his tongue and eats you out like a mad man— spreading your folds with his hands and fucking into your tight hole with his tongue. your back arches and your hands fly to grip at his head, torn between pushing head head deeper or further away. it’s all too much at once, both pleasurable and overwhelming, your thighs trembling from the sting.

“heh, look at this creamy pussy go,” you hear him whistle in between your thighs, though it comes out muffled. he’s gripping so tightly onto your thighs that you’re sure it’s going to leave bruises, hair cascading his face despite his dark orbs peaking through the bangs. “shit, ‘m gonna keep you with me forever, never letting this pussy go.”

when he flicks his tongue at your swollen clit, your hips rise off from the mattress and you push his head away, the numbing sensation overtaking your limbs and gut tightening in a familiar way. you hear him tut disapprovingly, forcing your hips down and you’re left powerless but to lay there and let this blinding orgasm wash over you.

“‘s too much— oh god, toru, fuck— ‘m cumming, don’t—baby, don’t stop!” you babble, saliva dribbling past your lips. you begin to feel lightheaded from the blood rushing to your brain, and the airy feeling leaves you feeling like you’re floating, one hand leaving his matted hair to grip at your neglected tits, firmly groping the mound.

all it takes is an additional slip of his fingers into your gushing cunt to release its dam, his end goal accomplished as your folds greedily suck him in. your pussy wails and cries onto his face, squirting all over him from his forehead to nose and chin. through it all, your body rakes and shudders, trembles taking over as you cry out his name.

he holds your free hand through it all, pupils dilated as he himself trembles in amusement, thumb brushing the soft skin of your knuckles.

“give it all t’me princess, be the good fuckin’ girl you are and soak me in your essence— needa taste ya, sweetest fuckin’ thing ever, i swear.”

fushiguro ☆ toji

“oh yeahhh, that’s it mama—keep throwin’ it back, shit, gonna breed this greedy pussy full’a cum.”

you respond with an overly eager moan, hips pushing back to slam your ass down to his pelvis. you’re beyond your element—mind both dazed and consumed with alcohol and lust, glossy lips parted as you fog the mirror before you with your warm breath.

you plant the surface of your palms at the mirror, skin moist as you hold onto the glass for stability. standing on the tip of your toes, your calves are put into overtime as you sink down on toji’s dick, your pussy well spent and spread to accommodate to his inhumanely girth. he stretches your folds painfully, but the feeling is one you welcome dearly as his tip kisses areas inside of you that has you thanking him endlessly and going as far to wanting him to fuck you full of his cum.

bent over in a ninety degree, toji grips onto your hair in one tight hold, pulling your head back up. he forces you to stare at the mess he makes out of you, and you watch as your tears leak black from mascara, staining your cheeks dark and saliva dribbles from your lips to your chin. your skin is matted from sweat and other liquids, eyes dazed and unfocused as his balls repeatedly slap at your puffy clit.

“fuckin’ whore— awe, just look at ya,” toji mocks, the hand holding your hips letting go of the flesh and flattens his palm instead to slap at your ass. you moan at the sting, your skin tingling in pain as the skin reddens from the harsh impact.

“think i ain’t notice, doll?” your eyes roll up to watch him, his smirk as prominent as ever through the reflection of the mirror. his own locks are matted to his forehead, and he bares his fangs at you in a smile that sends shivers down your spine. “y’think i don’t feel yer cunt squeezin’ me in? you fuckin’ love it when ‘m mean with you, ‘fess it up mama.”

you chew on your bottom lip, slightly embarrassed by the truth being revealed. you could call him the worst man on the planet, mean and relentless, but at least he knew how to fuck you inside out. you shake your head in denial, but when the hand in your hair snakes to your throat, fingers pressing down on the column of your neck tightly—you moan at the lack of oxygen coursing in your body.

“answer me when i ask you somethin’, basic fuckin’ manners sweetheart.” toji kisses his teeth, pulling your body up by the neck. your sweaty back meets his sweaty chest, and you feel him panting against your temple just as you can see him nuzzle his nose against your hair.

he’s grinding into your cunt in motions that has his cock rubbing at your sensitive spots, his pelvis pressed right up against your ass. you reach your hand behind to grip onto his thigh, squeezing the firm muscle and the other wraps itself around toji’s hold on your neck, as you’re overtaken by the familiar beating of your cunt clenching down on his throbbing dick.

“fuckkk, love it daddy! love it when y’re mean t’me—love it when you fuck me s’good—ngh!” you cry out, tears soaking your cheeks and breast jiggling in rotations built by a rhythm made from the man pounding into you.

“there’s my slutty girl,” you feel his hand pat at your cheek, the sting making you loll your tongue out of the cave of your mouth. he plunges his teeth into the supple flesh of your neck, sucking eagerly as he marks down his territory.

you drive him mad— something about the way you comply to his every desire no matter how you feel about it, just to please him, had his cock twitching in ways it’d never had. your sweet and innocent demeanour completely consumed and taken over by his sinister and malicious ways, moulding your pussy into the shape of his cock so it would only obey to him and him alone.

his green eyes zero into your facial expressions and he can both tell and feel that you’re close, your cunt clamping down on his dick whenever he grinds up against that sweet spot that has your legs quaking and barely able to hold yourself up. naturally he wants to bring you that finish— selfishly, that way you’re stuck on him and obsessed with his dick alone.

he’ll remind you endlessly nobody else could ever make you feel this good, just as nobody else could ever have him deliriously possessive the way you do.

“‘m gonna fuck this slutty pussy so good, nobody will ever come close to fuckin’ you dumb— shit, might fuck around and fill my pretty pussy full of my cum.”

geto ☆ suguru

“shit baby—‘m gonna need you to relax f’me—fuck, loosen up—we gotta make it fit, right?”

you’re barely half way sunken down on his dick, the stretch painful enough as your arms are thrown around his broad shoulders for stability. it hurts in a way that makes you either want to get it over with and fully slam yourself down on the rest of the inches or completely take off, but the gentle thudding of geto’s finger tips at the base of your back has you rethink your decisions.

geto’s aware that the size of his dick isn’t the most accommodating for beginners, much less virgins. but you’d been so eager to take care of him and willing to give yourself to him, to want him to deflower you, take your innocence and purity and keep it in his possession— there was no way he would refuse you of anything.

“ngh, sugu— fuck, it hurts!” you squeal, thighs aching from the awkward angle. he’s holding your body entirely from your ass alone, gently playing with the soft flesh in attempts to distract you from the excruciating pain.

he places kisses at your cheek, nuzzling into your smooth skin with a sympathetic sigh, “mhm, i know baby, i know.” his whispers fall short into your ears, noticing the goosebumps on your skin trailing. “just a few more inches, kay? you’re so close—y’got this mama.”

you’re so adorable, he thinks, as simple words are enough for you to nod, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. you sit up straight, nose grazing over his, and he leans forward to kiss your lips. you’re so distracted by the sweetness of his lips onto yours, tongue slipping in between your swollen lips that you fail to notice you’ve officially bottomed out.

geto eases your body down onto the rest of his cock, and groans when you clamp tightly onto his dick. you’re so tight he feels like he’s being suffocated, and even with all the prepping and squirting from prior, you still hadn’t been entirely ready to take him in.

though, the hard part is over, as you cry out into his mouth— fresh tears now staining your pretty cheeks and rolling onto geto’s face as well. he almost feels bad, but there were many layers to him— and he was extremely turned on by yours tears. knowing you were in a state of painful pleasure that brought you to tears, lashes thick and wet as you wailed and seeker comfort from him despite him being the reason you’re crying—

it has his balls ache terribly.

“there we go princess, just like that.” geto encourages you, one arm wrapped behind your back and the other holding onto your hips firmly. the back of your heels dig at his lower back, your chest pressing against his. “you’re taking me so well, shit, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

he takes note of the thin veil of dark red that coats the perimeter of his dick, realizing he’s finally popped your cherry— and he isn’t sure he can put into words the weird feeling that has him smirk ferociously in a primitive way. shamefully, he’s filled with pride that he’d been your very first time and disgustingly enough, he slips his hand between both your bodies, collects the evidence of your purity now taken away, before rubbing the liquid onto your neglected clit.

“forgive me, princess.” he mumbles into your ear, a gentle kiss pressed to the shell of your ear in major contrast to the sudden pain throbbing in your core at the newfound position.

you then understand by his relentless thrusts, your legs now draped over his shoulders as his hips meet the back of your thighs in rhythmic slaps, that he had been asking for your forgiveness because he wouldn’t be able to hold back any further.

“promise it’ll stop hurting soon—fuck, you wanna hold out for me, baby?” he never stops his thrusts, interlocking both your fingers together before pressing them above your head. his eyes stare deep into your soul, and behind those purple orbs you see your reflection intertwined with a mischievous glint. and when you nod your head, he tilts his own, “use your words, love.”

“y-yes suguru—want you to fuck me! i’ll hold out for as long as you n-need me to! i promise!” you roll your hips up to match the pace he has set. he rises his body up and slams down into your cunt, and you greedily accept him, muscles relaxing into the pain that slowly dissipates into pleasure.

you’d never felt anything like it before, but the way geto repeatedly fucked into you, his dick dragging against your walls and coming out slicker than the last time he plunged inside made the room stink of sex and echo with sinful squelches. his cock rubs at your virgin walls, spreading you open as you helplessly lay and take everything he has to offer you.

your toes curl at the sides of his head and your back arches— you’re effortlessly gorgeous when you’re milking his dick dry for what he’s worth, greedy pussy sucking him in so well, you could’ve easily fooled him into thinking you’d been experienced in this domain.

when he hangs his head low to watch how his dick enter and disappear inside the void of your tight cunt, he notices the bulge in your tummy. he can’t help the grumble that leaves his chest, ultimately obsessed by the pudge that forms at your pussy simply because you allowed him the honour to properly make love to you.

“whew, ‘s that me in there baby? shit— y’re driving me insane, ‘m gonna make you cum real hard, you’ll be cryin’ and beggin’ for more— oh yeah, you like that?”

nanami ☆ kento

“need you to hold still for me, sweetheart—shit, let me finish you up nice and good like you deserve, hm?”

nights like these, there were no logical reasoning as to whatever urge to passionately make love to you, to devour you whole and to make you crumble beneath him. anything could fuel the sudden want to strip you naked, body to soul, to sink his cock deep inside the cave of your warmth and have you come undone for him alone.

nanami loved it whenever you presented yourself so submissively to him, so obeying and willing to comply to his word. you were his wife, and he was truly and utterly obsessed with your entire being. to him, there was no prettier sight than your pussy dribbling slick from its puffy folds, clenching around air as it desperately calls out his name.

you laid on your knees with your cheek pressed into the mattress of your shared bed, hands bind and tied behind the back of your thighs by his infamous tie. you were restrained, most sacred parts of your body open for his accessibility alone. your entire body shivered, coming down from the high that nanami’s tongue brought to you, lapping at your folds and puckered hole, fingers pumping with precision into your cunt.

“kento, ngh, i need you, can’t wait any longer— please!” you squirm as much as your restricted form allows you to, wiggling your ass side to side as if to sway him to your desires.

you had to know there wasn’t anything you could ask him that he wouldn’t give you. begging was so below you, as his partner— there was nothing you needed to beg him for. he supposes he’s at fault for making you wait as long as he did, and he’s got no choice but to correct his mistake, to make you forgive his bad actions.

“stay still love, ‘m gonna fuck you real good now— don’t you worry, pretty girl.” he presses his kisses from the bottom of your back, the mounds of your ass, and makes his way up your spine, trailing his kisses to the column of your neck.

he revels in the way you shiver uncontrollably, your frame fragile and petite in comparaison to his larger one. you smell a scent too divine—an aura so sweet, so honeyed and so unmistakably you.

he collects your slick with two fingers, dragging the pad of his fingers at your weeping cunt, before coating his own raging hard on in your essence. he’d been so needy for you, mind clouded in trances of your body, that you hadn’t even needed to focus any attention on his dick for it to get to this point of arousal. bringing you to a state of blinding pleasure was enough of a stimulus to get him ready to go.

grabbing the base of his dick, he lines himself up at your entrance, dragging his mushroom tip up and down your folds. you whine and beg him to to push up inside, to fill you up to the brim, so full that all you can think about is the pattern of veins on the underside of his cock brushing at your golden spot.

when nanami finally does bottom out, you both release moans that sync in a melodious tune, the harmony of both your bodies and soul merging into one clouding his mind with primitive lust. he starts off slow, pushing in and out of your cunt, hissing at your tightness despite having fingered you open not too long ago.

“‘m losing my mind baby,” nanami breathes out, hands gripped tight at your hips. he quickens his pace, balls slapping at your clit in patterns as your body jerks forward. “your pussy feels heavenly—shit, so warm and tight and all mine.”

“yes sir, it’s all yours— always have been, always will be k-kento!” you whine, the surface below you dampened from your tears and drool. you catch his gaze from your angle, your lashes fluttering prettily as you wordless encourage him further.

he reads you like a book, he reads your soul and knows you better than he knows anybody. and so, he pistons his cock in your eager entrance, thrusts long and deep as your pussy grips onto his shaft greedily. you moan, toes curling as your fingers reach for him despite not being able to due to the cloth restraining you. your back arches and the shift in angles has his tip immediately locating your sweet spot.

“oh f-fuck!” you wail, body shuddering as you’re overwhelmed by an intense pleasure. you feel nanami’s hands trail over your skin, down your back, caressing your ass, the back of your thighs. “hah, right there sir— please don’t stop, hngh, ‘m gonna cum!”

and of course nanami knows this, already a step ahead of you as he leans forward, arms holding him up at the side of your shoulders. he puts a hand between your thighs and through the loop of his tie to focus his attention on your neglect clit, drawing figure eight patterns on the bundle of nerves.

you keep sucking him in, and he must be growing old the way it’s becoming so much easier to draw him to the finish line. nanami knows better— it’s the entirety of you, from the way you sound when you whine and beg him for relief, to the way your body reacts so fluidly with his, the way your eyes linger a moment longer on his own. he’s head over heels in love with your entire being, and it’s no shocker that when you cry out his name and soak both of your thighs in your sweet honey, that he himself feels his balls empty into your womb.

“shittt—there we go my love, take all of my cum like the perfect wife you are, mmh, just like that—my pretty little thing.”

kamo ☆ choso

“oh f-fuck, ‘m so sorry princess, it just— shit, it feels so fuckin’ good—need some more!”

load after load, your boyfriend shoots his cum inside your cunt without warning, hips stuttering and rutting into your sucking void. it doesn’t bother you as much as he thinks it does, though you are concerned that he’s going to fuck himself into a blackout with how eager he is to bring you to the finish line.

porn had nothing on real sex, choso concluded when he finally sunk his full length into your cunt and immediately came. there’d been no movement or warning, but as soon as his balls met the lips of your pussy, you moaned at the hot rush of cum spurting inside of you.

he’d been so winded, his fingernails left moon crescents into your flesh as he emptied out his first load of semen into your womb. he shivered and whined, your name rolling off his tongue in a desperate plea as his premature ejaculation washed over his body in waves.

by the time he’d come down from his orgasm, you’d caressed his cheek and pushed his hair away from his face, kissed him and told him this sort of thing happened often. he was still a bit embarrassed by the disaster but the gentle look of honesty in your eyes and your pretty smile had reassured him rather quickly— and also got him hard again.

“take your time baby, ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” you nod your head while giggling, sprawling your body down to your mattress. choso sits on the back of his feet and pulls his dick out, hissing as your pussy grips onto him despite his protest to slip out. eventually he pulls out and he’s enamoured by the way his seed spills out of your pretty hole, liquid filthily staining the sheets beneath you both.

you lick the tip of your index and middle finger, coating the digits in your saliva before slipping them in the space between both your bodies. you keep firm eye contact with your boyfriend as he watches you with hearts in his eyes, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak at the buds of your hardened nipples.

you collect his creamy cum from your cunt, bringing it back up to your plump lips and licking your fingers clean. you moan at the taste of him, so overwhelming and strong but undoubtedly him.

“cho, baby, you taste fuckin’ so good,” you plop your fingers out of your mouth, and smile in faux innocence. he’s quiet and gulping in anticipation, dick twitching at the entrance of your folds. he’s already dribbling more pre come, tip of his shady sticky and ready to dive into your gaping pussy, aiming to please you more and more, until you yourself feel as good as you were able to make him feel just now.

and so, pushing himself on his knees, he begins his rutting yet again, grabbing the base of his cock and lining himself at your puffy lips. he grabs your hips firmly and lifts you off the bed as he bottoms out, your ass falling onto his lap and fucks into you desperately. his thrusts come out sharp and harsh, penetrating so deep inside your pussy and rubbing at areas that had your vision go unfocused.

“oh fuck, b-baby, shit— oh my fuckin’— you feel so good, y’re killing me here!” choso throws his head back, sweat dripping down from his matted hair to his bare chest. his stomach contracts and he pants heavily, his hold on your hips tight. he’s fucking into you as if you were a fleshlight— a mere toy he’s discovered that he isn’t willing to stop playing with.

it doesn’t bother you the second time he cums inside your pussy and apologizes, it doesn’t the second and it doesn’t during the third time either. at every orgasm he’s taken over by, you feel yourself drawing towards the end of the finish line, that high so near that when it’s taken away from you suddenly, it’s annoyingly great.

he’s unintentionally edging you, and despite your whines and pleas, fingers messily rubbing at your clit in attempts to draw some kind of blinding conclusion, he cums yet again, filling you to the brim.

“fuckkkk, hah, ‘m so sorry baby— promise i’ll get it right this time, ngh, gimme another c-chance!”

5K notes · View notes

lizzyiii · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x you #aemond targaryen smut

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chiumii · 6 months ago

Text

baby doll ~ sim jaehyun x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which jake eats out his virgin girlfriend for the first time and ends up going batshit insane with obsession & possession

word count ; 2.7k

dom! jake x sub! reader . corruption kink , oral , lots of praise , very very slight degrading if u squint , fingering , neck kisses , hickeys , Jake is a little bit of a pervert , not proof read , this kinda sucks oh well

Jake and you have been together for four months , and the two of you have decided to take things slow.

he was so so patient with you- so kind and loving , never has he ever made you feel uncomfortable or forced to do anything. he wanted to go at your own pace, even if that meant he had to rub one out after a heated make out session in private once a while.

he was the sweetest boyfriend ever and he loves you so much..

so much he began to slip into insanity

you two have had conversations before, such as establishing a safe word and what kinds of things the two of you were kind of into

which led him to discover that you were in fact a virgin.

ever since you told him that small fact about yourself, he drove himself further into madness.

how on earth were you a virgin?

he thinks to himself on a regular basis. you're too fucking gorgeous.

the thought of having the perfect little girl who has never experienced having sex was phonenomal. he wanted to show you all the different ways he could make you feel good, which positions he could fold you into, he wanted to force perfect whines and moans out of your mouth as he fucked his cock deep inside you for the first time. he wanted to teach you how to suck him off- imagining your round eyes looking up at him while your mouth was stuffed full of his length was too much for him to contemplate.

Jake knows its wrong, but when he's snooped through your room a couple times while you were in the shower. he imagined what your naked body looked like when it was wet, how the water droplets would travel inbetween your breasts and thighs- the picture made him unbelievably hard-, he then found himself discovering the awful cute panties that are folded neatly in your underwear drawer that have adorable matching bras. he also discovered a measly pink vibrator tucked away in a box of that underwear drawer, completely dead and his mind began to race.

have you came to the thought of him at all? do you imagine him fucking you as you use the pathetic little toy on your clit?

he couldn't seem to stop his dirty thoughts that began to cloud ever part of his being.

the thought of you wearing one of those adorable pieces of underwear underneath your clothes made him feel all sorts of things. and oh god whenever you would walk around your apartment with just a hoodie on made him wonder if you were wearing one of the cute lacy panties with a black bow stitched in the middle.

here you were, reaching up on your tippy toes to grab a glass out of the cabinet.

and that god damn hoodie of his that you're wearing began to ride up to show the curve of your ass, the lacy underwear peaking out from underneath.

Jake felt himself growing in his jeans just at the sight, you truly had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"come here baby" jakes voice traveled through the apartment. you pop your head out of the kitchen with the biggest smile on your face.

"coming, I was just getting water" you trot into the living room, setting down the glass of water onto the surface of the coffee table. you stand up and look at him, that cute smile on your face still prominent.

his hoodie falls around your mid thigh, the article of clothing completely swallowing your figure and he begins to wonder how you look underneath.

he would love your body regardless of its shape of course, but that doesn't stop the dirty thoughts that form in his skull. every fiber of his being is telling him to rip it off of you and stuff your face into the couch below him and fuck you raw- but he decides on the latter.

"come here doll, let me look at you" your feet patter on the hardwood floors as you walk over to your boyfriend, standing in between his spread legs. his hands find the outsides of your thighs , his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your exposed skin.

"you're so beautiful" his words make a deep blush coat your cheeks. his hands suddenly grip your legs, shifting your body so that you can sit on his lap facing him.

you gasp at his forwardness, but lean into his touch nontheless. your head leans down and your breath fans his face. Jake looks up at you through his eyelashes, admiring your beautiful face that's beet red at his gentle words.

you both lean in for a kiss, your chapstick smearing onto his lips as your mouths move together. your hands move to wrap around his neck, pushing your body into his front.

the kiss quickly began to escalate, your mind was fuzzy, your hands were frantic, and your pussy began to wetten.

his tongue intruded your lips, sliding against yours while his hands moved from your thighs up to your hips underneath the hoodie you were wearing.

his fingers played with the hem of your underwear, a quite whine leaving your throat- to which Jake happily swallowed. your hands moved up to his head, your fingers lacing in his thick locks in order to tug and pull on them.

now it was jakes turn to moan into your mouth, his fingers tightening on your hips as he began to grind his growing bulge into your core.

everything felt hot and overstimulating , your head began to hurt as you quickly pulled off of your boyfriend.

your lips were kiss swollen and your face was red. Jake looked up at you with concern, his hands instantly slipping out of the hoodie in order to cup your cheeks.

"what's wrong my love, are you okay?" you nodded your head trying to catch your breath. your eyes fly closed and your hands grip into his shoulders.

"we don't have to baby doll, lets put on a movie and cudd-"

"I- I want to.." your voice was small, tone laced with embarrassment. jakes eyes widen in shock and he tilts your head to look at him.

"we don't have to if you dont want to , im okay sweetheart I promise" he reassures you , as hes done for the millionth time since the two of you started dating. your eyes open and lock onto his.

"I want to, Jake... I really really do im just- nervous is all.. what if it hurts?" oh my god.

Jake feels his chest tighten and he bites back a smirk, his hands moving down to cup the slope of your waist. he wished you wouldn't have said that, because all he wants to do now is manipulate your body into any position he wishes while he takes away any and all sense of innocence you have in your body.

"how about this baby, I'll eat you out and finger you until you're ready for me, hmm?" jakes eyes darken slightly , you avert your eyes from his with an embarrassing huff.

"what it... what if i.. I dont know.." you stutter over your words, not wanting to finish the stupid sentence.

"big girl words, doll" you sigh again and cover your face with your hands, muttering into your palms

"what if I taste bad" your words are muffled, but Jake can hear them regardless. he takes his big hands and wraps them in his hold, forcing your hands away from your red face as he speaks to you.

"you will not taste bad , I swear... how on earth would you have a bad taste, you are the sweetest girl to ever walk this damn earth" his compliment makes you giggle.

there is absolutely no way you could taste bad and he knows it.

he's smelt your underwear before out of pure curiosity and has never been more obsessed with the idea of eating you out ever since.

before you could protest, hes picking you up into the air. your legs wrap around his waste and your arms tighten around his neck with a squeal.

"Jakeee" you drag out his name with a giggle as he walks over to your room. he sets you on the foot of the bed and you feel even more embarrassment at all your stuffed animals looking at you.

Jake stands inbetween your legs, his hands on your knees in order to keep them apart.

you lay on your back and reach above your head, turning around your stuffed rabbits that rest in front of your pillows before sitting up and facing him.

Jake has to stifle a laugh that threatens to bubble up passed his chest, but one makes it out anyways.

"dont laugh at me.. I dont want them watching" you are too fucking adorable, his heart swells in his chest at your words.

Jake leans downs, his body towering over yours as he brings you into another kiss, this time it's more heated; demanding as his mouth moves against yours rhythmically. your hands move to his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders. you feel his hands at the base of the hoodie. he breaks the kiss with a wet pop, he looks into your lust-filled eyes- a silent plea.

"can... can we keep it on..?" you ask him, and he instantly responds.

"of course baby, anything you want sweetheart" Jake brings one of his hands to press against the mattress behind you before he gently leans you back, your head falling onto the mattress gently.

you feel yourself growing wetter, your clit pulsating in your panties as he kisses you deeply once more. your hands move to his hair- tugging on it once more.

Jake bites your lower lip and you hiss, your hips grind up into the air in a desperate search for friction. he trails his kisses to your neck before sucking down on your skin, leaving the prettiest purple marks that have you arching your back while breathless whimpers drip off your tongue like honey.

Jake detaches from your neck and sinks down to his knees in front of the bed, his face coming down to your clothed pussy. he pushes the hoodie up around your stomach, baring your underwear to him. your face is hot and you worry about how you taste and look, attempting to control your breathing as you lay down on the mattress.

"shh baby, its okay, I got you" his words reassure your overthinking mind. he brings a cold finger up to your clothed clit and presses down, earning himselfa sharp inhale from the perfect woman above.

he rubs his digit in soft circles, coaxing your body to relax.

"j-jake.." you whine as he chuckles. after a moment of concentrated massaging to your clothed clit- he sees a prominent wet patch form on your underwear and he curses at the sight.

without thinking, he pulls your panties to the side and slips his fingers through your wet folds. your back arches and your eyes close at the feeling.

"so wet for me already?" he teases you. your mind is racing - as is your heart while he pulls his fingers away from your heat in order to pull your pretty panties down passed your ankles.

you sit up on your forearms as he places his hands on your knees in order to pull your legs apart.

and the sight of your dripping pussy makes him fall for you all over again. the unholy thoughts that run ramped in his mind are sick, the way he wants to split you in half and fuck you dumb overtakes his thoughts- but he calms them in an instant.

he brings his face closer to your heat so his breath fans your aching pussy. your arousal drips down your ass and onto the sheets before he brings his tongue out in order to lick a stripe up your pussy- making you shudder in your hold.

he does it again, and again, and again- making your breathing rapid and uneven

"so sweet.." he mumbles before wrapping his arms around your legs in order to pull you down onto his face- his lips automatically wrapping around your clit.

your mouth slacks open in a gasp followed by loud moans. his tongue works its magic against you- flicking and sucking around your sensitive bundle of nerves. your hands fist in the sheets, using them as leverage to keep you grounded.

Jake groans into your pussy as he feels your hole clench around nothing- so he brings his middle finger up to your cunt before sliding it inside your tight pussy.

you quite literally suck his finger inside you before clenching around him. Jake lets out a stream of curses into your wet pussy

"fuck.. so tight. such a perfect baby doll falling apart in my hands" you moan at his words, your hips rocking into his face.

the unfamiliar feeling of Jake eating you out makes body feel weak and your mind feel empty- stars beginning to form in the darkness behind your eyelids.

Jakes finger pumps inside your pussy, curling in desperate search for that sweetspot deep inside you- and when he finds it, your back arches even further off the bed as you squeal. he chuckles against you- sending vibrations through your entire body starting at your core.

"found it" you feel tears well up in your eyes, and Jake decides to scrape his teeth gently against your clit- making you hiss at the odd feeling.

"god you're so fucking beautiful, my perfect little angel" his finger repeatedly kisses your cherry-sweet spot, the pleasure overriding your senses as you grab his hair and grind into his face.

"j-jake please.." you have no idea why your begging, but the sound of you moan his name as you come undone in the palm of his hand makes jakes cock rock hard- straining against his jeans and he swears he could come just by eating you out.

his grip on your thigh tightens, his tongue concentrated on your puffy, swollen clit.

an unfamiliar feeling forms in the pit of your stomach, and you begin to feel hot and uncomfortable.

"j-jake i.. feel weird hmm, pl-plea-se" your moans pick up volume and your legs attempt to close around his head, but the grip he has on your thighs is strong and unmoving.

"doing such a good job for me sweet girl, wanna cum angel?" you shake your head frantically, the wave of your orgasm beginning to crash down on you.

"y-yes please" you answer, making Jake pout his lips into you.

"such a good girl, you can cum baby, I got you sweetheart im here" you fall into this hands as the coil in your tummy begins to unravel, your hands come to cover your eyes and your legs begin to shake.

your moans turn into high-pitched mewls and cries

"oh my god Jake!" one of your hands comes down to your side in order to reach for your boyfriend, and he just about breaks down.

you're reaching for him.

you want to hold his hand as eats you out, as you come all over him.

he unwraps his arm from your leg and instantly grips your hand in his, and that pushes you over the edge as your fluids squirt out of your pussy and all over his face- dripping down his chin to stain the sheets below.

Jake gawks at you, his mouth slack open and his eyes wide as you become a puddle

the realization of what just happened hits him;

you just fucking squirted for him.

"fuck- you're so perfect oh my god- such a good girl, pretty girl" as you begin to settle down, Jake pulls his fingers out of you and stands up before leaning down to face you.

he tucks a stray hair behind your ear as he kisses your forehead.

"you did such a good job for me baby doll, so pretty" he compliments.

"I-i was?" Jake nods his head and takes you into his arms.

"yes baby, the best"

2K notes · View notes

prcttyfairies · 13 days ago

Text

CRAZY IN LOVE: elijah 'smoke' moore & elias 'stack' moore fic

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: 🌑🩸 cicely james was one of the few innocence that still existed, her mind fighting the corruption that came along with her fathers drunken abuse that he inflicted on her out of his own spite. and she couldn’t say meeting the smoke-stack twins had made it worse because if so bad then why did it feel so good loving them. warnings were given by few, but ignored—--their adoration of her and the feeling of safety they stored within her leaving her to block out their advice. but as secrets are revealed, those they withheld from her for their own reasonings that made no sense to her at all, her heart had broken. and like any once innocent mind, suffering through their first heartbreak she kicked into fight or flight mode.

years passed since cicely suffered at the mistake of giving the twins her heart. unfortunately a heart that they still grasped ahold of. cicely james returns back to the mississippi delta just to discover that they had done the same. her plan was to ignore them, to do what she needed to do and protect herself. yet, they were never men that backed down easily.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 6.5K

CHAPTER TWO:

Mississippi Delta ━━━ 1921

Her silence they took as a fear. A lack of response to their invitation. Her eyes said, "Yes gentleman, that sounds like a nice evenin'," but her mouth was getting ready to reject their offer of a good time, just to avoid whatever punishment would be waiting for her at home if she did accept. The twins didn't want that.

They rarely showed interest in the same women, and if they had it was nothing but a glance or a flirtatious conversation that never lasted long before they were on their way. Yet, something about Cicely James caught both of their attention. Possibly it was the way that she wasn't like most women. She didn't look at them with a need for their awareness of her presence. It seemed to be them fighting for her even just her eyes to focus on them, them falling back to the ground under her feet.

Stack took his tooth pick out of his mouth, glancing towards his brother before he spoke, "Well how 'bout dis Miss Cicely, we give ya a ride home and you think 'bout it," he requested believing the answer she was getting ready to give them wasn't going to do well for them. A girl like her deserved a good time, and a daddy like that man, Otis James, wasn't going to keep it from her.

The twins knew who he was. When they heard the name James, it wasn't very hard to put two and two together. They had seen him a few times, gambling whatever money he made away; winning some, losing most. A man who was ready to speak the words of luck out loud but bowed his head in shame with an excuse slipping from his lips about how god just wasn't on his side right now. As if any god would be on the side of a drunk who clearly beats on his daughter, and whoever resided in the house with her.

Cicely shook her head, "I couldn't possibly ask that of ya," she instantly replies head still low, adjusting the groceries in her hands.

"It's a good thing you ain't askin', sweetheart, we offerin'" Smoke remarks, taking a step forward, "Now come on, hand over dim groceries, and let 'em help ya in the car," he gestured to Stack with his head, who was grinning like a mad man.

Cicely reluctantly allowed Smoke to take the groceries from her, as Stack offered his arm like a gentleman. Again a blush found its way on her face, gently placing her small hand in the arch of his elbow, allowing him to guide her to their car that wasn't that far from where they stood, Smoke following them.

Stack stopped her in front of the passenger seat door, opening it for her, "N-No, it's okay, I can sit in the back," she pointed.

He instantly refused, "oh, no no, a lady sit in the front in this car, go on now," Stack moved his arm forward to guide her in front of the seat in which she reluctantly got in, her worn out flats touching the step that helped lift her in, Cicely settling in the seat.

Stack climbed in the back, while Smoke put the groceries next to him before he got in the front, starting up the car and the engine causing the machine to rumble under her. Her daddy had a car, but she wasn't in it often, attempting to avoid being alone with the man at all cost.

When he started driving the wind created by the accelerating speed that they were going at, blew her hair out of her face. This gave a good view of her features. A deep golden brown, the bruise on her cheekbone evident. Stack had set his eyes on her and boy was he mesmerized. A beauty like no other. Her lips full, a button nose, and eyes that could leave anyone entranced.

"Now," Stack began leaning forward a bit, "Where you from, Miss. Cicely? Cause I'd remember if you was from Clarksdale, I'd think a beautiful lady such as yaself woulda been hard to forget." his compliments Cicely believed she would never be able to get used to, catching her off guard.

It took her a moment to compose herself, trying to contain her smile, "My daddy is from texas, moved here when he was still young, mama from Clarksdale though," she voiced, this being the longest reply she had given them.

Stack looked at Cicely for a moment to ask, "And who is yo' mama?"

"Seraphine James, sir━━━maiden name, King."

The twins looked at each other in shock, overturning their faces as they looked back at them, "Seraphine King is yo mama?" they both asked in sync, the same facial expression and all.

It almost made Cicely want to laugh, however, her curiosity overpowered that reaction out of her, "Y'all know my mama?" she responds, answering a question with a question.

Cicely watched closely, waiting for one of them to say something. She witnessed the way Smokes hand clenched around the steering wheel, "She was a friend of our mamas," Stack responds, yet his demeanor didn't seem to change like Smokes had.

It gave her the urge to speak up once more, "I━I'm sorry, I ain't mean to upset you," she apologized to both of them, but mostly to Smoke.

Her apology had caused Stack to laugh, and Smoke to shake his head in assurance, "You ain't upset me, Angel." he didn't look at her for long. Eyes focused back up ahead at the road. He couldn't do it, the bruise on her face, and cut on her lip only angered him a bit more now that he could see them clearly without her hair resting in her face.

A friend of his mothers, going through the same thing his mother had been through along with his brother and him. It frustrated him seeing the familiar cycle.

"And do you gotta brotha?" Stack found himself questioning putting two and two together for himself.

She nodded, "Yeah, Clayton James."

In sync the twins uttered, "Ace," leaving Cicely confused at what they meant, "Yo brotha, we know him. Knew him when we was kids, met him again in the trenches, work with him on the farm. He has everyone callin' him Ace." Smoke explained.

Cicely was confused at that, "Why Ace?" she finds herself asking them.

"Because ya brotha knows how to strike out, and take a man for all his money. Can tell a man for his poker face even in the slightest twitch of a brow," Stack found himself laughing wickedly, "If there is one man I know who will be able to see if someone lyin', it's him."

She didn't know this about her brother. She knew he left the house in order to escape their father, leaving his sisters there. Cicely knew she couldn't be mad at him for wanting to escape knowing she'd do the same thing if she didn't care so much. Yet she had and that was preventing her from accepting their invitation to join them tonight.

"Then why don't I remember y'all?" Cicely found herself questioning, feeling as though she too would've remembered them.

Smoke glanced towards her, "You had been six the last time ya mama brought you around, guess ya memories just didn't linger for that long." he simply expressed, giving her a response that she couldn't help but settle for. They hadn’t even remembered, she had grown so much over the years.

Cicely pointed in the direction of a back road, Smoke following where she gestured. Trees followed them for a short time before they cleared and a somewhat large house appeared, three horses entrapped by wooden planks that surrounded them, chicken's scattered over the field, along with a few goats. Cicely pointed towards that one.

Outside, a girl stood. Hair down in similar ways to Cicely, surrounding her face. The sound of a rumbling engine had caused her to glance up. When she squinted her eyes to adjust her vision a bit she made out the silhouette. Instantly her mouth opened;

"Mama! Cicely here! She inna motor!"

At the sound of her little sister, Lily-Mae's loud shout, Cicely closed her eyes and exhaled wishing her sister was in the house like she often always was. It probably would've been easier to get inside without her sister's alerts, but she couldn't say her mom wouldn't have heard the engine herself.

When Smoke brought the car to a halt in front of her house, she moved to open the door only for a hand to be placed on her shoulder. Stack shook his head at her as he climbed out the back seat. He opened the door for her. She gave him a closed mouth smile as she murmured her appreciation at his actions seeming to be proving Ms. Claudette wrong about him not being a gentleman.

She hadn't realized that Smoke had gotten out as well, until she seen him circling around the car with the groceries in his hand. Cicely moved to grab them only for him to pull them further to his side out of her reach, and instead placing his free hand at the small of her back as he guided her towards her home.

She felt chills run down her back at his touch that wasn't directly on her skin but it still managed to affect her. She couldn't tell if it was in a good way or a bad one.

The screen door opened, her mama stepping out of the house, apron around her waist, rag in hand, hair pulled back. Just like Cicely she sported a bruise on her cheek, and had bags that clearly matched the exhaustion in her eyes.

Lily-Mae walked out with her mama, hiding behind the older women curiously peeking her eyes out at the mysterious men her sister showed up with.

"Everything alright, gentleman?" Seraphine James questioned, worried, feeling her eyes, "My Cicely ain't done nothing wrong, did she?" she quickly added, afraid that her daughter had gotten into some trouble that she possibly couldn't get her out of.

Smoke shook his head, "Oh, no Ma'am, we just offering yo Cicely a ride home. Seemed like a long walk for her, thought she might wanna rest her legs," he calmly assured her.

Cicely still found herself in between them, comfortable, Smoke's hand still resting on her back, "And who might you boys be, my Cicely ain't eva told me about y'all from when she goes into town." she says, very unfamiliar with them although there was something about them that held some familiarity.

"We had just come across her today, in Ms. Claudette's shop," he informed her, "I'm Elias Moore, but folks call me Stack," he introduced himself with the sly smile he seemed to always have.

Seraphine looked at him, the name hitting her with recognition as she shifted her gaze to the other one, "And I'm Elijah Moore, people know me as Smoke."

The older woman glanced between them, surprise clear on her face, "You two are Bethanne's boys," she says when it becomes clear to her, knowing what was so familiar about them. They had her eyes, "I ain't seen y'all since you were young ones, eleven years old," she recalls the memory, coming back to Mississippi to visit her mother. Cicely could see her mothers emotions getting to her, "y'all all grown up now."

Recollections passed over her. Seraphine remembered the day the boys were born. She was pregnant with her own son at the time, as she cradled Elijah first before she was handed Elias after. Deep inside her soul she knew that they were going to grow to be brave men. She was glad to see that they were alive and well and not buried six feet under. Not at the hands of Joseph Moore and not from the retaliation of an enemy in battle.

The woman cleared her throat, sniffling as she tried to gain some control of her emotions remembering the passing of her dear friend and how much it had broken her heart, and destroyed the boys standing before her, "Well, you two come on in, let me get y'all something to drank. It's least I can do for not making my baby walk," she gestured towards the house.

Silently, they accepted her invitation into the house, Cicely taking the lead giving her sister a gentle push when she realized she hadn't followed her mother inside as well. Inside it was neat. Not anything on the floor that they could trip or step over. the wooden floorboards steady as their heavy bodies stepped on it.

Smoke and Stack followed them inside, Cicely guiding them in the direction of the kitchen where a wooden table sat in the center, a plaid cover with pink roses covering it. Seraphine poured lemonade into glasses out of a steel pitcher, before she set them down on the table where the twins instinctively sat, Smoke placing the groceries on top of the table.

Cicely moved to remove some of the items she got, along with the fabric, "Ms. Claudette wanted me to give you these," Seraphine grazed her thumb over the cloth feeling the texture of it, "I guess this gives ya an excuse to go into town, show your appreciation," Cicely suggested knowing her mother had been fighting to leave the house. the looks of those who knew of her situation she couldn't bare to be on the receiving end of.

Seraphine just smiled at her daughter, leaning in a placing a kiss on her cheek as she turned around to show the two gentleman at the table her attention. But before she could get a word out, Lily-Mae spoke up, "Do one of y'all wanna marry my sista?" Cicely's eyes widened, Smoke choking on the lemonade he had taken a drink of, and Stack smirked.

"Lily!" Cicely was getting ready to scold her sister for her words.

The youngest james shrugged her shoulders, "What? They both lookin' at you like you some kind of Angel or somethin'" she points. Lily-Mae was often the one that paid closer attention then most had. They believed for a girl as young as she was, she wasn't one to catch onto things but with the lifestyle she had she had to pay close attention to detail.

"Shhh," Stack placed his finger in front of his mouth, "You gotta keep it a secret." he winked at Lily-Mae who blushed at him, smiling at Cicely. The girl only shook her head, turning her head away and fighting her smile.

Seraphine looked between the boys, "Is that what y'all want? One of y'all want my Cicely?" No man had ever come around asking for Cicely. It could be her fear of men, only trusting her brother. And the fact that she never left the house other to run into town every now and then.

The spoken of girl, embarrassed by their insinuations, moved to protest only to be cut off by Stack, "We actually wanted to invite Cicely to a speakeasy tonight, but we wanted to ask yo permission first," his eyes moved towards Cicely who stood there, eyes back on the floor, avoiding eye contact, "She seemed a lil hesitant to accept our invitation," knowing there was something he could say that would get her to look at him he added, "Now the marrying we can discuss sometime next week," Cicely snapped her head up, just to be met with his mischievous smile, flashing his gold.

Seraphine couldn't help but smile, glancing over her shoulder at her daughter to see her fighting her own smile, "Well, Cicely is a woman of her own, she can answer that question for you."

Taken aback by her mothers response she sat up, "But Mama, you need someone to help you with dinner, and the horses," Seraphine turned towards her eldest daughter, placing her hands on her shoulders to give her assurance, "And daddy━━━" she started, her heart slightly racing with the fear that if she had stepped foot out of this house with the lack of permission from her father to go out not one man, but two, she didn't know just how bad the beating this time was gonna be.

At the mention of her father, and the slight spike in her tone, both Smoke and Stack tense up. She didn't deserve to be controlled by fear the way she was. And from what they could see, her mother wasn't going to allow it for much longer.

"━━━now Cicely James you are eighteen and old enough to make yo own decisions, so make this one." Seraphine could see the fear and panic in her daughter's eyes, "I'll talk to yo daddy, and I'll let him know that some very nice men wanted to take his daughter out to enjoy a lovely and safe━━━" she looked in between both Stack and Smoke with a stern look, "evening out and that you deserve it. You clean up after these animals; take the horses on their walk, clean out the battery cage, and do the laundry." she listed brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, "all while helpin' me look after this one," Seraphine gestured towards Lily-Mae who made a face as if she was offended. She then turned her focus back on the twins, "Now, as long as you promise to take care of my baby, Cicely, then I don't have a problem with her going out tonight."

"Of course, Mrs. Seraphine."

"No doubt about it."

Both Smoke and Stack gave her their word, but Seraphine wasn't done. She pointed her finger at Stack, "And you, goin' an makin' promises, you betta keep it." she wrapped her arm around Cicely's shoulder pulling her in close to her side, "My baby need someone who gon' protect her, love her. Now if that ain't you then I'm have to start lookin' to Mr. Quiet and Mysterious over here," she gestured to Smoke.

Stack quickly defended himself, "Now, don't you worry about that Mrs. Seraphine, I'm a man who keeps my word." again flashing that charming smile towards Cicely who shielded her face in her mama's shoulder.

"Well, what about me?" Lily-Mae chimed in, waving her hands to grasp ahold of everyone's attention, "Can I go to the speakeasy too?"

Seraphine couldn't help but laugh, unraveling her arm from Cicely's shoulder and walking over to her youngest, "Girl, speakeasy's are for grown folk, and you are not one of those. Not quiet yet. I still got some time with you." she says, grabbing ahold of Lily-Mae's face and placing a kiss on her cheek.

"But tomorrow," Stack started off, "I'm takin' my lil cousin out to get some ice cream, I can swing by and pick ya up, if it ain't a problem wit ya mama," he pointed respectfully to the women.

Lily looked up at her mother, giving her the puppy dog eyes, puckering out her bottom of her lip to sell it, "Alright," Seraphine gave in, causing Lily to cheer and offer a fist bump to Stack, which he accepted, "But if yo lil cousin is as sly as y'all then I just might have to have a talk wit him."

Smoke lifted his hand, "No, ma'am, he is an as innocent as that girl there," he pointed towards Lily.

Cicely chuckled to herself, "Oh she ain't innocent, give him a warning."

Laughter filled the kitchen, other then Lily who stuck her tongue out at her sister. For the first time the twins seeing Cicely and her wide smile taking advantage of that moment since she wasn't looking down and avoid their eyes. Her head was held up, eyes glowing and her mind must've no longer been conjuring up the bad scenarios of her fathers reaction to going out with them tonight.

It was when they heard the door open the laughing slowly ceased, "Mama! Who car dat out━��━" the familiar voice of one Clayton James appeared, causing everyone to glanced in the direction he was now standing in, green eyes that only he was blessed with out of the family of five, but received from his mama's grandfather, trailing over the room. They settled on Stack and Smoke, "What y'all doin' here?" he questioned them, confusion on his face.

"What's up, mane?" Stack got up greeting him, shaking his hand and pulling him to a hug, bumping his shoulder with his. Clay tapped his back, but the confusion didn't wear off.

"They gave Cicely a ride home from town, wanted to let her legs rest." Seraphine informed her son.

His placed his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, "And why was she walking into town in the first place?" There was times before he told his mother that he didn't want Cicely walking into town.

Cicely shrugged, "Mama needed groceries for suppa, she wanted to make it before Daddy got home," she informed him honestly.

Clay released a groan, "Mama, I told you I don't like Cicely walkin' out into town on her own. Otis ain't here yet, I could've gone or went with her."

Seraphine rolled her eyes, "Well who knows when they would've been," she retorts back to him, "Don't act like you so reliable because just some time last you was gone for three days time," Clay looked down with guilty biting his lip, knowing where he had gone off too. Smoke and Stack knew to, that's why they were looking at him, "And I ain't gonna tell you again, that's ya Daddy." Seraphine reminded him, it not being the first nor would it be the last that Clay spat out his fathers name.

He slowly lifted his head with a hard glare, "Well remind me when the muthafucka earned the father title," he all but seethed out.

Cicely watched as her mama was getting ready to round the table, to step up to him, something she ain't even done to her husband. Probably because she know Clay wouldn't think of laying a hand on her. But before she could reach him, Cicely stepped in front of them, intercepting the situation.

"Clay," she began, his eyes set on their mother before they slowly moved down to his sister, "can you help me take the horses to the barn?" Cicely asked him, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He hesitated, opening his mouth ready to agree but Seraphine's voice erupted again, "Cicely you know you ain't got no time to take them horses to the barn, you've still gotta get ready for tonight." the woman slightly scolded her daughter.

Cicely released a huff, Clay looking in between the two, "Tonight? What's tonight?" he inquired.

Stack scratched the back of his neck, Cicely biting the inside of her cheek, and Smoke did what he often did, didn't react. It took Lily to break the building silence, "Stack and Smoke are takin' Cicely to a speakeasy." Lily confessed, leaving everyone to watch his reaction, "Then Stack said tomorrow he'd take me to get some Ice Cream." she added but, he didn't brush that last part off and focused on the first.

His face contorted into an expression that was unreadable to Cicely, "Y'all taken my sista to a speakeasy?" Smoke didn't answer, and Stack subtly nodded his head. Clay scoffed, instantly shaking his head, "No, she can't go."

Cicely leaned back on the counter, almost as if accepting her fate and her brother's decision. But her Mama wasn't having it, "And why in the hell not?" Seraphine snapped

Clay let out a humorless cackle, "Because Speakeasy's aren't for her, she too young for 'em." Cicely could tell he was looking for any excuse to give, to fight Seraphine on it.

Returning the laugh, Seraphine slapped the rag that was still on her shoulder down on the counter top, "And what? You get to go out doing god knows what with god knows who?" she narrowed her eyes as she retaliated next with, "Maybe Lil' Mary again."

Clay wasn't surprised how she knew this, all he had to do was look at his youngest sister who showed her guilt clearly. Cicely was the only one who didn't know, eyes snapping towards her brother expecting him to deny although he didn't.

Mary Boone. A white woman who tried to hang around colored folks with the excuse that her grandfather was half-black. Cicely could understand not wanting to see color, and all but others weren't as nice. Just because she didn't judge, doesn't mean others wouldn't have.

Clenching his jaw, Clay continued on at it, "So what you thinkin' Mama?" he took a step forward, not threatening way, but a way that came off as if he was trying to make his point clear," She gon' go out to meet a nice man to take her hand," he theorized, knowing that's what she as attempting at.

Cicely's eyes once again met the floorboards of her home, eyes zoned out as if she was trying to block out there arguing but couldn't. Smoke caught onto this.

"Or..." he trailed off as his features got hard, "She gon' meet a muthafucka who don't know how to keep his hands to himself." Clay snapped.

Having heard enough, her own emotions begin to grow uncontrollable. Pushing off, her footsteps stomped as she moved in between Stack and Clay's body's marching out of the kitchen towards the back door. Seraphine called after her but she ignored her.

The yelling continued on, Cicely finding herself outside guiding a horse to the barn so she could eat. It now got to the point where every time he came back home, Clay and their Mama were fighting. It was a constant, something shoved into their routine nowadays. She couldn't listen to it anymore.

It wasn't as if they were some happy family, but her mom, Clay and Lily were what she looked forward to in her day. They were her peace and with them falling apart, she felt like she was losing them other than Lily.

When Cicely came out to collect more Hay to put in the feeder only to come to a halt when she noticed Smoke entering the barn. She glanced down at him, taking in the wet dirt under their feet, "You might wanna go back inside, Mister, don't want ya shoes getting dirty." she warned him. This being an everyday thing for Cicely, she had switched her shoes out for boots.

Smoke shook his head, "I ain't worried about that," he relayed his eyes meeting Cicely. She couldn't see it for herself, wouldn't be able to unless he uttered the fact that he truthfully was worried about her, "They argue like that all the time?" he wondered knowing he didn't get to that point in age where he could argue with his mama, but he did argue with Mrs. Boone from time to time.

She exhaled heavily, thick glove covered hands placing the hay in the bin for Reign, who nudged her with her nose as a thank you. Cicely couldn't fight her smile at the action, "If Clay pushes mama's button's enough." Cicely answered, removing her gloves. She dug the tip of her boot into the gown, "Which is most of the time, so yeah." Another thought had come to her mind, one she couldn't escape, "I think he gettin' ready to leave anyway." she found herself confessing.

Smoke's brows came down, frowning, "What makes you say that?" he wanted to know, despite the talks he and Clay have had, and he had talked of leaving. He just never actually did it. Smoke understood why now.

It took her a second to find her words, searching for a good enough response. Not for him, but for herself. How could she tell?

"The look in his eyes," she started, her own gaze drifting away from his, "He slowly slippin'," Cicely recalled the moment's he wouldn't come home, but just show up days later, "He'll be gone a few days, but always comes back." she wanted to assure herself that he always would but, "Mama thinkin' one day he won't."

A her whispered, that he almost didn't catch, he slid his hands into his pocket, "And what do you think?" he asked her, him being the first person, other then her Mama from time to time, to ask her what she thought.

Cicely thought a lot most of the time. Structures being built in her head of how her life was going to go. They all relied on multiple factors that relied on the answers to these questions; Who walks into her life? Who walks out? Is he gonna hit her today? Is he not? Will she escape someday? Will she be trapped forever? Details mattered the most and it was hard to get the right details with those unanswered questions on her day to day life. She was always thinking, wondering.

When she goes to answer, a bang comes from the stall in the back, causing Smoke to jump and reach for his gun, hands shaking. Cicely eyes widened, holding up her hand, "It's okay, it's alright," she tried to assure him, "It's just Angus." she relays. The mind of a soldier was what he had. Any loud bangs, or yell's, maybe even cries could set him in a trance that let him think he was back in those trenches. He gave her a look that seemed to tell her that he needed more than that, "A wild horse my Daddy found a few years ago. He just hears my voice and wants attention." her eyes fell to his hand still on the handle of his gun, "He's spoiled, mostly by me."

Cicely realizing it was going to take more than her words to give him that assurance she made a move that she witnessed her mother do to Clay a few times. She stepped forward, hand still up as she closed the distance between them. Her hand reached for the one that was on the handle of his gun still, easing her palm over the back of his shaking one. She gave him the soft smile she often did, nodding her head as she slowly pulled him in the direction of Angus' stall.

"He don't bite, I promise." Cicely guaranteed as she pulled the latch of the door, gently pulling it open cautiously. She allowed her free hand that wasn't holding Smokes to go in first, hand falling on his hand as she gently caressed him, "He hasn't been ridden in a few days, probably getting agitated." she informed him as she guided them into his stall further, until Smoke was standing good distance in front of him, "Now, Angus," Cicely started off, speaking to the animal, "I know I ain't been in here in a while to check up on ya, but this here is my friend Smoke." he neighed in response, nudged Cicely with his big head, causing her to stumble slightly. Smoke's hands came to her waist to keep her from falling. She tried to ignore the feeling of warmth that spread through her body, instead distracting herself from it as she scolded Angus, "You can't be mean, or we ain't goin' for no ride." she treated. He sighed as she guided her hand over his head towards his mane.

Still careful, Smoke spoke, "He seems to listen to ya."

She couldn't help but smile at that, "Because I take my time with him. Can't rush a process, have to let him know in a certain way that he can trust you," Cicely swallowed heavily before her next words came out, "Daddy always said it's not always about whether you can trust him. It's about if they can trust you." she let out a giggle that lacked hilarity, "Ironic."

She allowed her mind to settle, separating herself from her pain and being in the moment. Cicely cleared her throat and looked over her shoulder at Smoke who evidently still had his hands on her waist.

"So," she began patting Angus' side, "You wanna go for a ride, Mr. Moore?" Cicely raised her brow in a challenging manner. Smoke was going to shake her head and reject but she smiled at him, "Oh come on, he ain't gonna do nothing, not as long as I'm on him, ain't that right?" Angus neighed, stopping his hooves into groans.

Cicely grabbed the reins that hung up in the barn, strapping them on him tightly, Smoke watching her close as she prepared him. When she finished her hands still gripped the reins tightly.

She gestured with her head for him to follow her, Smoke moving out of her way as she led him out of the stall and towards the exit of the barn with who she could only assume was the eldest twin, at her side just by the way he handled himself.

Before they could completely exit the barn Cicely looked towards Smoke, "Mind giving me a boost?" she asked him. He once again placed his hands on her waist, lifted her up and placed her on Angus' back. Cicely thought of her right leg on the opposite side, adjusting her dress. She often had pants on when she did this.

Cicely then gestured with her head for him to join her up on Angus. He hesitated, she could see it in his eyes, "You sure you got control of this 'ere horse?"

She giggled, Smoke finding himself appreciating a smile like Cicely's, "Three years I've had him, Smoke. I've got betta control of him than most." she promised him.

Smoke had an athletic build to him, placing his hands on Angus' back and using most of his strength to pull himself on top of him, quickly swinging his leg over. He adjusted himself closer to Cicely.

"Now as unmanly this position may feel, I want you to wrap your arms around my waist." she reached behind her, still holding the reins, as she grabbed his forearm pulling it forward and around her. He had done the same willingly with his other arm, grabbing his own hand, "Alright, here we go." she made a clicking noise with her mouth as she tapped Angus' side with her feet signaling for him to go.

He started off in a gallop, Cicely and Smoke's body bouncing every time Angus came back down to the ground. She took him where she could; around the farm avoiding the crops and a little ways to the front. Cicely could hear Smokes soft pants in her ear, and with how close her body was to his front despite the amount of articles of clothing he had on, she could feel his heartbeat. It was beating face, at a pace that made clear that he was nervous.

"Ya know you can talk to me? Distract yourself if need be?" she offered to him as they followed the same path all around.

It took him a moment, probably trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke, "You never answered my question?"

Cicely smirked, "And what question was that?" recalling but wanting him to repeat it.

"What do you think about Clay possibly leavin'?"

She pressed her lips together, pursuing them as she gave Angus another command causing him to shift into a simple walk, "I'm thinkin' the day my brotha leave," she pauses for a beat, reading herself to admit what she knew was goin' to be true, "I'm gon' be dead."

That surely caused Smoke's mind to drift away from being on the horse to know the fact that Cicely was expecting death already, "Don't talk like that." His voice was gruff, and stern but not in a way that intimidated her.

Instead allowing his words to effect her, to give her some form of clarity in the dark tunnel she was in, to make her feel safe she replied with, "It's the truth." she was calm when she spoke, voice not wavering as if she was about to burst into tears, nor could any anger be heard in her voice, "My daddy know deep down that if he kill me, Clay gon' kill him." she declared her truth, "He waitin' for Clay to give up."

They continued riding Angus for a little longer, doing laps on the same path she guided them on before she took him back to the barn. Smoke was the first to get off, then he helped Cicely down. She landed directly in front of him, huffing as she brushed her hair out of her face.

She was going to move but Smoke stopped her, "Do you know how to shoot a gun?" he found the query slipping his mouth.

"Daddy taught me young." Smoke gave her lip, despite his expressions be hard to read she could see he was question why a man who beats on his daughter would teach her how to shoot, "He wasn't always bad," Cicely admits with sorrowed filled eyes at the Daddy lost and who she had now, "Just when he came back from the war."

Smoke looked at her, knowing that he had lost a part of himself when he was there, "You think it was the war that took him." he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Cicely went to deny it only to stop herself knowing she was going to be lying if said she didn't believe it was the war, "Yes and no." She looked back down at the grown just for him to pull her attention back to him with his finger under her chin. She licked her lips as she said, "Mama's secret took him. A secret about me." she disclosed.

"What makes you think it was about you?"

Everyone had their reasons for beating on someone they claimed to love, Cicely just knew it was her because of one excuse, "'Cause I'm the one with the most scars." tears glossed over her eyes, mind going back to images in her head of her abused body, disgust filling her mind whenever looked at herself.

Smoke removed his finger from under her chin, grabbing the gun that was in his holster inside his jacket. Cicely took a cautious step back just for him to grab her hand, softly flipping it over and placing the handle of the pistol in her palm.

Cicely's hand slowly circled around it, "Next time he come for you," Smoke began his advice looking her dead in her eyes as he said, "Aim and shoot."

Her eyes drifted down to the weapon holding it tightly but yet feeling no power that people claimed it gave them, "I ain't got it in me to kill." Cicely confessed, a tear falling down her face.

Once more he changed her attention back to him to make sure she heard him loud and clear, "Everyone got it in 'em" his thumb drifted over where the tear had fallen, "Sometimes you just needed to be pushed hard enough."

AUTHORS NOTE: so this is what i got for y'all right now. i know it ainn't much but don't worry, i'm gonna give y'all a little more next chapter and this time daddy dearest pays a visit *gags*. but i hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. i feel myself getting sick if i don't have a chapter posted by next sunday then you'll know the sickness definitely kicked my ass.

TAGGED: @childishgambinaax @wabi-sabi1090 @marley1773 @jackierose902109 @skywalker0809 @bluevenus19

#prcttyfairies #michael b jordan x reader #black!oc #sinners #elijah moore #elias moore #stack #smoke #vampires #black!reader #sinners spoilers #cicely james #michael b jordan x black reader #sinners fanfic #stack x black!oc x smoke #clayton james

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ur-local-wizard · 3 months ago

Text

Ruin You

Mattheo Riddle, an incubus, is used to getting his way. But when he falls for you --the one girl immune to his charms -- and learns of your innocence, he's overcome with the want to ruin you for anyone else.

MDNI! characters are adults, corruption kink, praise, fingering, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, creampie, loss of virginity, friends to lovers, incubus!mattheo x fem!reader, I am not responsible for your media consumption.

w/c: 1.6k

in response to this request!

nav masterlist au list

a/n: first smut ever!! I hope this lives up to all the expectations! <3

Seduction came to Mattheo Riddle as if it was his mother tongue – natural, unhurried. He knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the way to angle his smirk just right to make people weak in the knees. His smile was devastating, his voice rich and deep, his touch always featherlight yet never failing to leave a scorching heat behind. He thrived off sexual innuendos, his existence woven into every fantasy and every intimate thought that flitted through every mind.

But you seemed to be immune to his charms.

Remaining blissfully ignorant to his attempts, you somehow escaped every interaction with the demon entirely untouched by the sin that dripped from his lips. It was confusing, infuriating, yet somehow intoxicating; only serving to make him thirst for more.

“You know,” he purred, leaning closer to where you sat in the common room. “If you ever need help with anything, I’m here. You only have to ask.”

You blinked up at him, and a wholesome smile spread across your lips. “That’s so sweet of you, Matty. You’re such a good friend.”

He nearly choked on his own spit at your response. Friend? He was a literal demon of temptation and desire, and yet you thought his actions were friendly?

His flirtations only escalated after that. Every smirk, wink, lingering touch, was only met with a beaming smile or polite nod. You were a puzzle, a challenge. He wanted to figure you out – to understand how to get his message across. And yet he found himself drawn to you in other ways; ones that weren’t driven solely by physical need.

Then he heard the rumors.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He was just drinking at a party like usual, when he heard Pansy’s voice. “Y/n’s a virgin? Makes sense I guess. But with a face like that, I expected more,” he heard her say.

He felt the world tilt for a moment, and not from the alcohol he was drinking. Everything in him was screaming, the depraved part of him clawing at the edges of his restraint. A virgin. Pure. Untouched.

His body ached at the thought, and the demonic part of him longed to find you and corrupt you, defile you. But the last thing he wanted was for you to see him as he was – a monster, a predator, a creature of hunger and lust. He wanted you desperately, needed you even, but he would never force anything on you.

For the first time in his life, Mattheo Riddle was at a complete loss for what to do.

Although it was difficult, Mattheo tried to distance himself after that revelation. He told himself that it was for your own good, that you were better off without him, that he would ruin you if he got too close.

But the more he resisted, the more unbearable the distance from you became. He still heard your laugh echoing throughout the corridors, still caught glimpses of you in the Great Hall, still felt the echo of your innocent touches that lingered, their memory like a brand seared into his skin.

However, you noticed the change in his behavior almost instantly, and began to wonder if you’d done something wrong.

“Matty?” You asked one day, your voice soft and uncertain. You’d caught him just after curfew, when everyone was meant to be heading to their dorms. “Are you mad at me? Have I done something?”

Mattheo’s fists clenched at his sides, not able to stand the way your doe eyes were filled with guilt and concern. No fear, no anger, no suspicion, just pure and genuine worry. It broke his heart, and he had to look away. “No angel, you didn’t do anything.”

You tilted your head in confusion, and your brows furrowing. “Then why have you been avoiding me?”

His mouth floundered as he searched for something to say. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t scare you? That wouldn’t hurt you? Yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie either. “You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, giving a non-answer while shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Then explain it to me,” you said, looking up at him expectantly.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. You stood firm, gaze unwavering, arms crossed over your chest. The sight of you, so determined, so concerned, made him snap.

“You drive me mad, you know that? Every time you smile at me, every goddamn touch, makes me go absolutely insane. I want you so bad… I wanna ruin you for anyone else.

“So? Who said I didn’t feel the same way, Matty?”

He stared at you in utter disbelief. “But all the hints I threw-”

“Yeah, I get those now,” you grumble. “After I realize you share the same feelings. I just… didn’t want to assume.”

He scoffs and takes a step closer. “So you want this too?”

As soon as you nod, he’s on you. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging lightly, as he backed you against the wall. One hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, and you could feel his desire pressing against you. The kiss was fervent, full of pent-up desire, yet beneath the urgency there was tenderness.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re so fucking perfect.”

His hands were warm as they slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. Your bra was next, falling away to meet your shirt, and you should have been mortified of being so exposed in the common room. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Not when his touch ignited something within you that you never knew was there, not when his lips brushed against your ear, whispering sweet praises that made your stomach tighten with need.

His own shirt was next, falling into the growing pile of clothes forgotten on the floor. Hands finding your hips, he spun you around, and you immediately braced yourself against the wall. The stone was hard and cold against your hands, and the cold air of the common room caused your nipples to pebble. His touch drifted down your back, before slipping under your skirt to rub against your core. Letting out a gasp of surprise, your hips jolted towards his touch, earning a soothing hum from the man behind you.

“I’ll be gentle, okay? So fucking gentle,” he murmured as he moved your panties to the side. Two fingers slipped inside your cunt with ease, earning a whine from you.

“Fuck. You're so tight. So wet,” he groaned as he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars. “I really am the only one to touch you like this? Gonna be the first and last, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you moaned, head falling forward as a knot started to form in your belly.

His fingers picked up their pace, pumping and curling just right, just enough to drive you dangerously close to the edge. “I want you to promise, angel. Promise me I’ll be the only one to ever see this beautiful pussy of yours.”

You nodded enthusiastically, but that didn't satisfy him. Right as you were about to finish, he tore his hand away from you, leaving you teetering on the brink. The loss and emptiness made you whimper, but when you heard him unbuckling his belt, anticipation replaced the frustration. The suspense made you tense, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.

The head of his cock brushed against your entrance, teasing, but he didn't move. “I want to hear you say it. Promise me, angel.”

“I promise,” you whined, growing impatient from the loss of sensation. You wanted him desperately.

That was all he needed to hear, his hips surging forward, thrusting into you with one swift motion. A choked gasp escaped your lips, the stretch making you wince. He stilled, letting you adjust, though his grip on your hips tightened like he was barely holding himself back.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. Your fingers curled against the wall, and when you started to squirm, he took that as a hint to move. His first thrust was slow, gentle. It was your first time after all. But eventually his restraint snapped. His rhythm was deep and deliberate, fucking into you as if this was the last thing he'd ever do.

One hand snaked around your body to rub tight circles on your clit that made your knees buckle. He caught you, keeping you upright as his pace never faltered.

“Feel so good. Like you were made for me,” he moans, his voice raw.

His continued ministrations made pressure build once again, white-hot pleasure beginning to curl insistently in your stomach. You could feel it, the inevitable, and his increasingly erratic movements were a tell-tale sign that he was close too.

“Come for me,” he whispered, coaxing you. “Prove to me how perfectly you were made for me.”

Pleasure crashed over you, blinding and all-consuming. You tightened and fluttered around him, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his throat. He followed soon after, burying himself deep with a groan.

For a moment, neither of you moved, lost in the shock of what had just happened. Then he pulled out and turned you around, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You did perfect, just like I knew you would.”

©ur-local-wizard translating, republishing, copying, or claiming my work as yours is not permitted. all my work belongs to me and me only. thank you!

tag list: @mattyriddlesbitch @sturniolover13 @thereeallink @voidangxls @riddleswhcre @riddleshire

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