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hyunnieshannie · 4 months

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Suspended | KSM

🖤: Seungmin x AFAB Reader 🖊️: 10k 🖼️: Check out the Mood Board! 🚨: Teacher AU, unprotected sex, use of sextoys, bdsm themes - rope play/impact play/blindfolds/handcuffs, choking, edging (so much edging i practically edged myself while writing the smut-K), cumming multiple times, pet names (angel/pup & sir), sexual harassment in the workplace, use of light system (reader uses: yellow), crying (from overwhelming amounts of pleasure *wink wonk*), corruption kink if you squint - methinks that's it, if we missed anything please let us know- If you think we proofread this, no we didn't - M ♡: I hope you all know this took us SEVEN MONTHS to write- WHY did it take us Seven months? WHO KNOWS?? But it did. LIKE LOOK AT THIS SCREENSHOT THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED THIS. anyways We hope you enjoy our little teacher Seungmin one shot. Please Reblog and let us know what you thought <3

There's something both satisfying and annoying about teaching and shaping the young minds of the new generation. Sure, you’re someone who most kids look up to. You have the honor of making an impact on their lives. Maybe they'll remember you in the future, maybe not. Either way, you're ultimately the one who helped prepare them for life outside of these high school walls you teach within. As much as you revel in this fact now, high school was a place you never wanted to return to. Within the walls of the high school live rowdy, unhinged, chaotic minds mixed with a splash of calm, put-together minds; and that only explains the student body.

The staff on the other hand, well they’re on another level of unhinged and chaotic, though somehow put together enough to be able to contain themselves and careful to never unleash those thoughts on another member of staff- for obvious reasons. Sexual harassment claims, being fired over the smallest of flirting, let alone the fact that if anything escalated beyond such, you could expect the cops to parade you through the halls, with the curious eyes of the students all watching as you’re taken away. In any case, it was always best to stay away from any sort of relationship with a coworker. No matter what.

Students, on the other side of the spectrum, never hid their relationships. You couldn’t count how many times you’d found students making out against their hallway lockers, running off to do god-knows-what in the staircase at the back of the school- or worse, when you’d be called to explain why student A and student B are being suspended, after being caught having sex in the washroom. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days.

The two students sitting directly in front of you seemed to show zero hint of remorse, for, quite literally, being caught in the act during the middle of second period. Could they really not wait until after classes? It wasn’t until both sets of parents had filed into the room that the students began to look embarrassed. “Welcome,” you sighed as you arose from your seat to shake the parents' hands. They were agitated, clearly disappointed and rightfully so. You didn’t get too graphic about the details of the suspension, as the printed notice would detail everything anyway. The parents read over everything carefully.

The father of student A scowled at his son. “I’m sorry for the actions of my son,” He muttered, as he ripped his son from the chair he sat on. “This is beyond unacceptable and we will make sure he has learned his lesson.” Their verbal assault launched as your student was dragged through the somewhat empty school and you just barely caught the words "embarrassment" and "disgrace" as their voices faded down the halls. Student B sat quietly as she watched her mother read through the printout. Signing her name and passing the flimsy sheet of paper to her daughter to sign, in acknowledgement for her wrongdoings, they spoke not a word, but the anger radiating from them was enough indication that she would receive a thorough talking once out of the eyes of the school's principal and yourself.

It was, undoubtedly, one of the longest days of the year. Not that there was any reasonable explanation, such as a time change or anything. No- it was simply just a day full of students who had decided that this particular day would be the best to ‘act up’. You often wondered why students who were caught by you seemed to think they would magically get away with their actions. Why your students lacked basic respect for you until the moment you smacked down the hammer, clearly marking the line between friendship and an authority figure. Sure, you’re one of the younger teachers in the school, but none of the others seemed to have this issue with their students. Hell, even the two students from just now thought they were merely getting a slap on the wrist for their actions- never expecting you to follow through with your threat of calling their parents in. Did they truly not expect you to do so? Could they really have thought you’d just speak to them, and tell them a small ‘Don’t do it again’?

As you meandered through the empty halls of the school, you wondered why you had even taken up this job. You had barely finished your degree and mostly hoped to be working with children of elementary age. Children, though energetic and clumsy, still seemed like less work than a class full of twenty-eight, moody teenagers all in the age range of fifteen to sixteen. Somehow an elementary school still seemed like it would have more order than this mess of a high school. You know the curriculum, you’re a good teacher- Credit where credit is due, and surely you deserved it. When your students did in fact listen- instead of making snarky remarks about you that they thought you wouldn’t hear- they would pass tests and exams with flying colors. So what was it you were doing oh-so-wrong to deserve passing comments such as ‘Can I get your number?’ or the boy's new favorite ‘Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?’

The moment you reached the faculty room, you threw yourself on the couch face first, thinking you were completely alone as you’d seen no one when you walked in, you let out the loudest scream your lungs could manage into one of the throw pillows. “WHY” you wailed, allowing the pillow to muffle your desperate cries for answers.

“Rough day?” a voice says with a light chuckle. Slowly you lift your head to see another staff member standing alone by the coffee maker. You drop your head in embarrassment as you have now learned, you were indeed not alone when you let out that blood-curdling scream. “Miss. Y/L/N. Are you alright?” He said as he approached you. Leave it to one bad day, for you to not be fully aware of your surroundings and to let out such a scream in front of the ‘most perfect’ teacher this school has ever had. He’s a very intelligent man, there has never been a problem that he couldn’t fix. He’s polite, well-spoken and could practically substitute for any teacher in the school. He had a teaching degree, as well as a few others that he had picked up ‘for fun’. Not only was he all of that and more, but of course he also happened to be around your age, perfect. He made everyone else, including senior staff, look like they had done nothing productive with themselves. You let out a soft laugh into the pillow, as the realization that he had caught you in a mental war finally began to sink in.

“Mr. Kim,” you say as you hastily sit up to save what little pride you had left. To be laying on the couch would be one thing- but the way you were planted with your head buried in a pillow was another. How embarrassing. “What are you still doing here? It’s well past school hours.” He smirks as he lifts his coffee cup in the air as if to say ‘Cheers’

“Had a few tests to grade,” he chuckles, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the steaming coffee. Your gaze settles on his hands wrapped around the mug, the mug looking small in his hands. You watch as he sips on the liquid and swallows it, making his Adam's apple bob up and down again. God, he’s stupidly beautiful. “And how about yourself Miss. Y/L/N, what are you doing here well past school hours?” He repeats the words back to you, raising a brow in a teasing manner.

“Caught two students again,” you sigh, “I can’t even think of one good reason for them to be doing such things in the washroom, during school hours much less.” You slump further into the couch, rubbing your temples in annoyance.

“You tend to draw the short straw every time huh?” Seungmin chuckles as he sips some more of his coffee. He keeps his eyes trained on you as you close your eyes, rubbing your head. He smirks to himself as he approaches you cautiously.

“Unfortunately.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face and leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He pulls a chair up as he gets closer, swiftly shifting the chair so he can sit on it backwards, taking another sip of his damn coffee. Fuck, the bare minimum and its too motherfucking sexy.

“Don’t you have papers to grade?” You eye him unsure if you really want to waste his time complaining if he has more important things to do. You’re also not entirely sure you want to talk about the whole thing anyway.

“They can wait, you on the other hand look stressed.”

“I don’t know Mr. Kim, I think it’s a bit beyond stress if you ask me.” You sigh again. “I think- I’m just tired and frustrated?”

“Tired and frustrated, heavy combination.” he nods in understanding. “I feel as if catching students in the act isn’t what’s making you so tired and confused though.”

“No, I mean yes- but not really.” You admit and Seungmin gives you a questioning look. You again sigh, “It’s the disrespect I receive, Mr. Kim. It’s overwhelming, and to be quite frank - annoying.”

“I mean yes, doing such a thing on school grounds is disrespectful, but I wouldn’t take it personally Miss. Y/L/N.” Seungmin says as he takes another sip from his mug.

“I don’t take that kind of thing personally Mr. Kim,” you laugh lightly. “I am genuinely constantly disrespected by my students, your students - at some points it feels like it’s the whole school.” You sigh in defeat. Seungmin is now sitting up straighter, he’s got a look of surprise. He seems genuinely confused at your statement.

“How have they been disrespecting you?” He asks in concern. He desperately needs to know what the fuck the students have been saying about you. “Have they said something to you? Done something? Anything my students have done Miss. Y/L/N, I must know in order to speak to them accordingly.” You let out a light chuckle, shaking your head, and resting your chin on your palms.

“Where do I start Mr. Kim? Would you like the comments on my body or should I tell you which students have attempted at grabbing my-” You stop yourself before finishing that thought, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “In all honesty Mr. Kim, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Perhaps after this year, I’ll resign.” At this point, you are so done with this school and you are so ready to quit and leave this school, it isn't doing your mental health any justice. As you are contemplating your future, Seungmin is reeling, he doesn't understand how his students have been saying such horrible things to you.

“You can’t resign Y/N-” Seungmin says quickly, almost jumping out of his chair. He shocks himself from his sudden outburst, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie. Why would he drop the niceties? “I mean-” He runs his hand through his hair. “Miss. Y/L/N, the school would suffer a great loss if you were to resign.”

“How do you figure Mr. Kim?” you give him a questioning look. You truthfully thought that no one would really miss you, so why is he so adamant that you stay?

“Well, for one your students tend to have the highest grades in the school, which is no easy task.” He looks around the room as if to find the answer to your question written on the walls. “And from what I have always seen, all of our students absolutely adore you. The staff loves you, and I’m sure you’re on track for a few awards this year as well.”

“You flatter me, but is it worth the verbal harassment from the students?”

“You never told me what they’d been saying,” Seungmin mumbles through the pout of his lips. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this.

“The comments are different every day, from asking me on dates to calling me” you gesture air quotes, “Mommy. In the middle of class.” Seungmin’s jaw basically drops to the floor in complete shock.

“Have-” he says cautiously as he picks his jaw up off the floor. “Have any of my boys said these things? If they have, I’d like names Y/N. Truthfully I’d like the names of all the boys who’ve made such inappropriate comments. ” He says sweetly but his jaw is set in anger, you can tell by the vein that is pulsing on his neck.

“Mr. Kim-”

“Please, call me Seungmin. I don’t see why we insist on speaking to each other as if we were students.” He smiles kindly at you.

“Seungmin.” Fuck, his name is so pretty. “It would be easier to list off the names of those who do not make such comments.” Seungmin looks immensely disgusted.

~~~~~

Since the evening you spent speaking to Seungmin, he had begun loitering in your hallway. In the mornings, as students raced to get to class on time he would stand at your classroom door next to you, greeting students as they came in. During the lunch period, he would make his way into your classroom, and insist on spending the time with you- and if he had any sort of free period, he would keep a close watch on your class- well out of both you and the student's sight.

He wanted to see with his own eyes, his students acting out. He wanted to be able to hear the disgusting comments himself. He thought surely it wouldn’t happen every day, right? Wrong. On the first day, he had heard the alleged Mommy comment at least four times. On the second day, he watched as a student attempted to smack your ass, only for you to turn around instantly and scold him yourself before sending him to class right after.

Disgusted, was an understatement. Seungmin was livid. How could the students be this sick? He wondered. He would not allow this to continue. On the third day, he had finally had enough. After hearing passing comments about you in his own classroom, he’d immediately excused himself and marched his way down to the principal's office.

“Sir,” Seungmin says as he enters the principal’s office. He’s fuming, barely holding himself together.

“Mr. Kim, how can I help you?” The principal asks from his chair, motioning for Seungmin to enter the room.

“It seems we have an issue.”

“Regarding?”

“Miss. Y/L/N, and our students,” Seungmin announces, expecting the principal to be concerned, however, that wasn’t really the case.

“Ahh, Miss. Y/L/N again?” The principal tuts. Seungmin is shocked. Again? What does that mean? Has she already brought up the issue?

“Ah, so you’ve heard-” Seungmin sighs calmly, and the principal nods. “To be absolutely truthful with you sir, this sort of behavior is absolutely-” The principal cuts him off before he finishes.

“I don’t see why she’s so dramatic, I’ll have to have another talk with her.” The principal announces, picking up his office phone to get a hold of you.

“I’m sorry sir?” Seungmin asks, confused. Why would he have a talk with you?

“I don’t see why a woman like her would wear such clothes and later complain about boys being boys.” The principal sighs in annoyance. “I mean one look at her and any man would want a piece.” Seungmin wraps his hands in a tight fist at his side. He really wishes he didn't walk into this room.

“Sir, that is wildly inappropriate to say about a member of staff.” Seungmin seethes. This is not how a supervisor should be treating a subordinate, this isn't how you should treat another human being, especially one that is trying to do her job. How can someone have the audacity to say that openly? “She is-”

“A woman, Mr. Kim. She is a woman, and women, especially women like her, should dress according to their bodies. Wearing such tight clothing around boys who are barely getting their hormones in check is just asking for-”

“She wears dress pants, sir? She is always professional in her clothing. I don’t see how this constitutes harassment.” The principal attempts to interrupt but Seungmin continues. “To say a woman is ‘asking’ for sexual harassment from students, or men in general for what they wear is absurd. It is her body, she may do with it as she pleases so as long as it is school appropriate. She is not asking for anything but the bare minimum!” The principal rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s statement. “She deserves the respect any of the other teachers receive!”

“Well, she isn’t like the other teachers now is she?”

“What does that mean sir.” He fists his hands even tighter if that was even humanly possible.

“She’s different- she’s more of a looker. Please, Mr. Kim, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The entirety of the faculty knows you’ve had the same thoughts as the rest of us.” Seungmin can feel his blood boiling, if he could, he would launch himself at the principal and punch him out for the shit that was coming out of his mouth. The principal admitted to thinking of you grossly and has now accused him of the same. Sure, he had thought you beautiful, intelligent, and funny but to mentally undress you was something he never did. No. He respected you far too much for that.

“I do not appreciate you painting me as a predator.” Seungmin grits his teeth, tightening his jaw.

“Seungmin, go back to your class. There are more important things to deal with.” The principal waves him off in annoyance. “I should have gotten rid of that woman after the third time she brought this issue up, if it was so bad she would have changed her appearance.”

“Her looks should never have been a problem in the first place!” Seungmin yells at the steaming pile of shit in front of him. “How dare you speak about her as if she was nothing more than some sort of-” he struggles to find the right word. “Doll!”

“Mr. Kim.” the principal warns in annoyance.

“She is much more than that! An intelligent woman who has put up with this for far too long! If you do not wish to punish the students for their actions sir, I will have no choice but to email the board.” Seungmin glares at the principal. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

“I will be putting you on suspension, Mr. Kim. Think about what you really want to do here. Go. I’ll have someone cover your class. Get out of my sight.” Seungmin leaves the office in a huff, walking aggressively back as he internally thinks about how he will absolutely fuck that mans career. He walks past your class and you notice that he's pissed, you race out to see him.

“Mr. Kim!” Seungmin stops in his tracks and looks at you. You let the door close to your classroom behind you to have a more private conversation with him. His attitude changed when he saw you but he was still tense. You notice his knuckles are white, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. “Will I see you for lunch again?”

“No.” He says angrily. He never misses lunch with you. Why is this time different? What made him so angry?

“Are you alright Mr. Kim?” You ask cautiously. He looks around the hallway and sighs.

“Miss. Y/L/N, it seems in attempting to do what was right, I have been suspended. My apologies, but I will not be staying for lunch.”

“Suspended?! For what?!” You yelp in shock. Seungmin is the most perfect teacher at this school, how in the world did he get suspended?

“It seems harassment in this school goes unpunished.” You look at him confused. What the hell is he talking about? “I will also be considering my position here. Perhaps I will join you in resigning.” You’re stupidly confused. What brought all of this up? Did he say something about the harassment you faced daily? You should have warned him that you brought this issue up to the principal in the past only to be ignored every single time.

“Mr. Kim, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should have told you not to bring it up-” you stutter as you’re finding it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes for feeling guilty that your problem had caused him to be suspended. He shouldn't be suspended.

“Y/N.” Seungmin sighs and softly brushes his hand against yours to gain your attention again. “It’s not your fault that the people who are supposed to stand by your side haven’t. My suspension only opened my eyes to the massive flaw we have within the school. I intend to either fix it or remove myself from the equation.” Seungmin bows to you lightly and walks away, thinking about every way he could get the principal fired. He would have to email the school board. You stand in the hallway completely flabbergasted by what just happened. The bell rings stealing your attention from him, as you turn back to call for him, he’s gone.

➽──────────────❥

You hear a knock at your door. You quickly run into your bathroom to make sure you look presentable after slaving over dinner prep. You run to the door and open it quickly. Seungmin is standing there dressed casually, not in his usual slacks and button-downs, with a bottle of wine in his hand. You beam a smile at him. “Welcome!” You motion for him to enter your home.

“Thank you,” he smiles back. The atmosphere in the apartment is so heavy with awkwardness. He looks down at his hands and realizes he still has the bottle of wine in his hands. “Oh, I- uh, brought this for you- I mean us,” he says as he holds the bottle out for you. You take it with a small thank you and make your way to the kitchen. This is the first time the two of you have hung out outside of work so it’s bound to be a little awkward… right? You can't help but sneak glances at him. He looks handsome even in mundane clothes. He stares at all the food you prepared in awe, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all of this?”

“I felt like it,” you chuckle lightly. You’re incredibly nervous for him to taste your food. You very rarely cook for anyone and especially since it’s him you kind of went a little overboard. “Anyways, sit or-”

“Where’s your corkscrew?” He asks politely as he makes his way into your kitchen. “I find a bit of wine is always a welcomed relaxant.” You laugh and point to the drawer. You take out a few wine glasses while he struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle, making the both of you laugh, and breaking some of the unnecessary tension. You both sit down to enjoy the meal and the wine, the conversations flowing smoothly.

“Oh please Mr. Kim-” you laugh, your cheeks tinted pink from drinking so much. Seungmin’s mind is reeling, he thinks you’re absolutely adorable, but in a corruptible way. Wait, did I just think that? Do I want to corrupt her?? No… I’d be no better than those fuckers at school… but she looks so pretty right now, her eyes glossed over, cheeks pink… fuck.

“I told you, call me Seungmin, we’re not in school,” he chuckles lightly, helping you out of the chair at the table and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Sorry, old habits,” you frown. “I’m sorry you got suspended… because of me.” You sniffle a little as you finish your sentence. He was the only person who treated you decently at that hell hole, of course, you’re upset he's gone. And he’s also the only eye candy at that school and you can no longer ogle over him from down the hall.

“Hey, I told you, I got suspended because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about what was going on at the school. It was in no way your fault.” He said softly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, wiping away a single tear that ran down your cheek.

“I just feel like I didn’t do enough to make it up to you,” you say softly as you play with the hem of his shirt. He watches your hands carefully, studying the curve of your fingers, wondering what they’d feel wrapped around his- no- stop. Don’t think like that… Seungmin quickly shakes the thought out of his head, but he couldn’t help but admire you. So sweet, so sickeningly innocent. The way you look up at him with those eyes, like a siren beckoning him to kiss you, god how badly he wanted to kiss you, touch you, make you, his- only his.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t want you as badly as he does but as he looks at you- shying away from him all he can think about is how he could ruin that innocence you seem to unknowingly have, he wants to hear the sinful noises he just knows you’d be capable of making at his command. Fuck- oh fuck, the ways he could ruin you. I really am no better than the rest of them…

“Well, there is something that we could do to make it up to both of us,” he said carefully, tracing his fingers over your knuckles, a shiver running down your spine.

“What do you have to make up for?” you ask softly, looking at his eyes for the first time since you sat on the couch. His pupils have blown out, a slight blush to his cheeks, his ears red.

“For the thoughts, I’ve been having all night,” he admits, ghosting his fingers further up your forearm, tracing over every blemish on your skin.

“O-oh? What k-kind of thoughts?” you ask shyly as another shiver runs down your spine from his gentle touches.

“I’ve been thinking about how much I want to corrupt you, how I want to wrap you up in a bow like a fucking Christmas present begging to be opened, how I want to see you writhe beneath me as I fuck you hard and rough until you’re screaming my name.”

You moan at his words as he rests his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands. “What… what’s been stopping you?” You close your eyes as he massages your thighs, slowly running his fingers up under the hem of your skirt.

“I…” Seungmin pauses as he slowly removes his hands from your legs, suddenly feeling guilty at his actions. “I don’t want you to think I’m just another sleazy guy.” You immediately shake your head vigorously.

“I don’t think you're sleazy. At all.” You say, shocked at the confidence in your voice. “I… you’re the only person that has stood up for me… cared about me.” You trace your fingers over his knuckles. “And…” you’re not sure if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol that gave you the confidence but you blurted out without even a second thought, “I also think you’re incredibly handsome, Seungmin.”

Without a second further, Seungmin lunges forward and crashes his lips to yours in a hot, wet, steamy kiss. He licks into your mouth and quickly dominates the kiss, guiding you to match his rhythm. His hands glide further up your legs, under your skirt again and his fingers brush along the gusset of your panties.

“Already so wet for me, angel?”

You whine into his mouth and grip the hem of his shirt tighter, trying to pull him closer to you. He wraps his hands around your wrists and yanks them away from him as he smirks into the kiss.

“When did I say you could touch, angel?” He asks darkly, his tone firm, demanding. He held your hands down to your sides as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Be a good girl and stay still for me.” You felt your body shiver and a high whine escaped your lips. You wiggled slightly, the need between your legs growing to be unbearable.

“Stop moving or I’m going to have to tie you down, angel.” Seungmin teases but pauses at the immediate blush that flashed across your cheeks. “Oh, you like that don’t you.” Seungmin chuckles as he bites at your chin. “I don’t have anything to tie you up, angel, maybe next time.”

You squirm underneath him, desperate to get his attention since your words seemed to have been caught in your throat. “S-Seung-”

He stops sucking on your neck to allow you some space. “What is it, angel? Are you ok?” He looks so concerned as he looks over your face for any discomfort.

“‘M ok.” You say breathlessly. “H-have rope.” Seungmin stops and stares down at you, his eyes darkening.

“Oh, my naughty, naughty girl. You have rope? Who’s tied you up before, angel? Hmm? Tell me.” Seungmin seethes as he grips your wrists tighter, feeling incredibly possessive over you all of a sudden.

“N-no one. I s-swear. N-never tried it.” You begin to cry, not wanting him to run away from you, disgusted by your desires. Seungmin lets go of your wrists to wipe away your tears, kissing your cheeks and then your nose.

“Ok, angel. I believe you, don’t cry just yet.” Seungmin runs his hands down your cheek, down the column of your neck, through the valley between your breasts, across your stomach, and ghosting his fingertips across the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t we take this to your bedroom then so we can use that rope of yours.” He holds his hand out to help you up off the couch. You take his hand and rush toward your bedroom and close the door behind both of you. You go to your bedside and pull out a box from under your bed.

“I know it’s cliche to have a box of toys under the bed, please don’t judge me.” You say shyly as you stay knelt on the ground with the closed box in front of you. Seungmin slowly walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair as you lean into his touch.

“So obedient,” Seungmin chuckles. He leans down and opens the lid to the box and inspects the toys inside. “Which one’s are your favorite?” He looks at you when you don’t respond and he chuckles lightly again. “You have permission to speak, angel.”

You point to a black bullet vibrator that sat atop all of the other items in the box and a clear silicone dildo sat right next to it. “These two,” you whisper quietly.

Seungmin huffs and takes the two toys out and tosses them on the floor next to you and continues to examine the other toys in the box. There's a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, rope, a thick veiny long lifelike dildo, and a curved vibrator - the type that has internal and external stimuli. “Have you ever used any of these?”

You shake your head no.

“I want you to speak when I ask you a question,” Seungmin says in a demanding tone, making a shiver run down your spine.

“N-no, I haven’t used them.” You respond shyly, keeping your eyes focused on your hands folded in your lap.

“No, what?” Seungmin says as he lifts your head up with his fingers pressed under your chin. “What do you call me, angel? You get to decide.”

“N-no, I haven’t u-used them, sir.” You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks and you feel more wet between your folds. You see Seungmin shiver when the title rolls off your tongue, but he still keeps his cool.

“Why haven’t you used them? You bought them, you should use them, no?” Seungmin says as he begins removing each item from the box and placing them carefully in between the two of you.

“I-I never had the opportunity, sir.” You say as you look away from him. He tuts and guides you to look at him again. He’s giving you a knowing look like he knows that’s not the entire truth. Fuck, was I always this easy to read? “I-I’m scared, sir.” You say quietly, the confession making you feel more shy than you already were. You’ve never shown anyone your treasure chest before and the fact that you were showing Mr. Kim, the man you’ve had a crush on for AGES, was fucking with your brain more than you would’ve liked. You wanted to do anything, everything he asked. Wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you’d do whatever he wanted. Seungmin’s gaze softens and he brushes his fingers across your cheek, you lean into the touch, desperate to feel his warmth again.

“You’re scared of the toys? Hmm, my poor angel isn’t very heavenly if she has all of these naughty toys, right?” Seungmin asks and he sees the panic flicker in your eyes. “Shh, angel it’s ok. I like your naughty desires, but it makes me want to corrupt you even more. Would you like that? Can I teach you?”

You nod your head excitedly. “Yes, yes. Want you to teach me. Show me, sir.”

Seungmin shivers in excitement. He pets your cheek gently. “Anything for you my angel. Get on the bed on your knees for me.”

You do as he says and place yourself at the center of the bed, carefully tucking your knees beneath you and placing your hands in your lap, awaiting his instructions. He smiles when you’re settled and stands at the end of the bed, looking over your body as if you were a piece of art in a museum.

“Such an obedient little thing aren’t you.” Seungmin praises, you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, and when you’re done, get back into that position. Understood, pup?”

“Y-yes sir.” You carefully remove your shirt, trying your best to make your movements as sexy as possible. You lean back and remove your skirt and panties, tossing them onto the floor next to your discarded shirt. You prop yourself back up on your knees and slowly reach back to unclasp your bra, suddenly feeling all too shy to be so naked in front of him. Seungmin walks to the side of the bed and sits down beside you when he notices your hesitation. He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He runs his fingers down your cheek to your chin and tilts your head towards him.

“You don’t need to be shy, pup. You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers running up and down your arm. “Let me see all of you.”

You nod your head, unclasp your bra, and let it drop to your lap. Seungmin picks it up and tosses it over his shoulder as he stares at you. He looks you up and down, briefly licking his lips when his gaze locks on your lips. He gets up from beside you and stands at the foot of the bed again right in front of your box of goodies.

“What shall we do first pup?” Seungmin looks down at the box and a small smirk dances across his lips. He pulls out the silky black blindfold, “Shall we start with this?”

He walks over to the side of the bed again and places his hands on your shoulder, lightly pushing you down so you’d lay flat on the bed. He pushes the hair out of your face and places the silky material over your eyes. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable, ok pup? You know the stop light system?”

“Y-yes sir,” you mumble breathlessly. The removal of sight has already heightened your other senses. His voice was caramel sweet to your ears and you wanted.. no.. needed more.

“Good girl.” You feel the bed lift beside you as Seungmin begins to walk away from you. “Stay just like that.” You hear him moving around the room and the rustling of the items in your box until you hear him gasp. “Ohh fuck.” You hear him whisper probably to himself so you stay silent. “You really are a pup aren’t you?” You hear a chain clanging against itself as seungmin removes whatever it is from the box. “Sit up.” Seungmins words are commanding and you obey immediately. You listen as the chain and inevitably Seungmin approaches you again. He grabs your jaw and leans in close to your ear. “I can’t wait to see you in this pup. And I swear to god, if you disobey me I will not go easy on you. You’ve been such a good pet so far, let’s not make it go to waste huh?” You shudder and nod as best as you could within his grasp.

“Y-yes sir, I’ll be a good pup, I swear.” You want to please him, you want him to praise you again and call you a good girl. You wanna be so so so good for him.

He chuckles in your ear and he moves his hand down from your chin and rests it around your throat. You keen at the motion and lean into his hand, wanting so desperately for him to squeeze. “Oh, it’s a good thing you like things wrapped around your neck pup.” Seungmin teases as he tightens and loosens his hold on your neck in quick succession. You whine and buck your hips up at nothing, the need between your legs starting to become unbearable.

Seungmin removes his hand from your throat and you let out a desperate whine. “Shh, pup, be patient.” You suddenly feel cold, rough material tightening around your neck. Seungmins face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want to turn your head and kiss him but you want to be good. Need to be good. So you stay still and wait for his instructions. Once he latches the material together you feel the cold metal chain drape across your chest and down the valley of your breasts. “Go ahead, pup, feel it.” You reach up to your neck and feel at the material that was placed around your throat and you gasp at the realization. The studded collar you bought a few months ago, was now sat prettily around your neck, the leash dangling down the front of your body.

“Oh,” you whisper breathlessly as you run your fingers up and down the cold metal leash. You suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You’ve never been in a position like this with any of your previous partners, most of them finding your desires to be too much. Your breath hitches as you sit in the silence. You can’t tell if Seungmin moved away from you or where he may be. Does he also find you undesirable? Is he disgusted by your wants? You drop your hands to the bed and feel around for him. “S-seungmin..” you whine as you’re worriedly searching for him. You start breathing heavier as you’re stressing over not being able to see him, hear him, or feel him.

You feel warm hands wrap around yours. “Hey, I’m right here pup.” You whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”

“No!” You reply a little too quickly. You shake your head. “N-no, I wanna keep it on… a-at least for a little while.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek again. “Ok, pup. For a little while.” He begins to pull his hand away from you but you quickly chase after it and pull him back to you. “Pup.” Seungmin sits beside you on the bed and lifts the blindfold off from your eyes. “Look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the light but you look directly in front of you and see Seungmin sitting inches from you, his face a whisper away from yours. He looks at your eyes and it feels like he’s searching for something in them. “Listen to me pup. You’ve been so good so far, such a good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, but I need you to trust me.” He gently runs his finger across your cheek. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll be right here and if you want me to stop at any time just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately.” His gaze softens as he notices the slight quiver in your lips. “You really are new to this aren’t you pup?”

You nod your head. Seungmin carefully watches you as you open and close your mouth, trying to find the words you want to say. “Y-yes. Wanted to try, b-but no one…” you trail off as you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. “No one’s wanted to d-do this with me.”

Seungmins gaze darkens slightly and he looks away from you, his jaw firmly set. You reach your hand up and guide him to look at you again.

“Please teach me.” You whisper as you touch your forehead against his. “I trust you Seungmin,” you say in a featherlight voice, closing your eyes and bringing the blindfold back over your eyes.

Seungmin is perfectly still as he watches you in awe. His precious pup is gaining some confidence, you saying you trust him, you wanting him to teach you. He’s not sure he’s ready for it himself. He feels the tent in his pants tightening. “Of course I’ll teach you pup,” you feel the bed lift from in front of you and feel a searing smack against your ass. You whimper at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing over the red mark that was most definitely left behind. “Firstly, you called me the wrong name, pup, and for that, you need to be punished.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You say breathless as Seungmin nips at your neck.

“You better hope it doesn’t.” There’s another slap on your ass. “I want you to count, pup. Starting now.” He lands another smack and you start counting in your head. Seungmin yanks you by your hair and forces you to lean against his chest, his voice seething and close to your ear. “Out loud pup.”

“O-one.” You say with a shaky breath.

“Good girl.” Seungmin praises as he pushes you back down on your hands and knees. You keen at the praise and you push your ass backwards awaiting the next round of slaps.

You count out loud for each slap across your ass. “Eighteen.” Slap. “N-nineteen.” Slap. “Twenty.” Seungmin rubs soothing circles on your ass as the sting subsides.

“Well done pup. You did a good job.” Seungmin guides you to lay down on your back. He gives you a few gentle pecks on your lips as he runs his fingers across your tummy. “I’m gonna tie you up, okay pup? Can you tell me your color?”

“Green, sir. P-please keep going.” You say as you try to reach for his hands. Seungmin chuckles and kisses your knuckles.

“Ok pup, I’ll keep going.” Seungmin kisses your forehead and walks towards the end of the bed. You hear him rummaging through the box and he slowly approaches you again. “Lift your hands.”

You slowly lift your hands up and Seungmin places the toy in your hands. You wrap your fingers around the material and feel the coarse threads of the rope you had inside your box. “Can you tell me what it is, pup?”

“Rope, sir.” You say as you run your fingers over the rope. You know the rope is a deep crimson, a color you thought would look stunning against your skin. You were so nervous to proceed, but you wanted to trust Seungmin. He’d take care of you.

“That's very good. Very good girl.” Seungmin praises and takes the rope from your hands and helps you sit up. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to tie you up. The rope is going to be nice and tight around your skin. It’ll feel good, but if it's too tight or you're having a hard time breathing or you're nervous, you tell me immediately and I’ll cut you free. Do you understand?”

You smiled towards the direction of his face and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir.” You feel him run the rough material over your skin. You shudder at the feeling, goosebumps rising over your arms as the rope is wrapped around your body. Seungmin tightens the rope every so often around your chest, your hips, your thighs. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs as he continues slowly. He traces your skin before the rope tracks over the same space. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed by the intimacy of this type of play. Something you’ve never experienced before. Something you weren't prepared to feel. You noticed that Seungmin stopped his movements. “Pup.” Seungmin whispers, his lips grazing your shoulder as he places light kisses over the skin. He pulls your blindfold off and throws it off the bed. He’s looking at you with so much care in his eyes, but there's an underlying lust that he was holding back. “Don’t cry. Not yet.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying and you try to reach up to wipe the tears away quickly realizing that your arms are tied tightly to your sides. You start to fluster and your breathing picks up. “I-I’m sorry…” You start but Seungmin quickly places his hands on each side of your face and looks at you deeply.

“Hey, you’re ok. I’m right here. Color?”

“Y-yellow. Yellow, sir.” You say as you close your eyes feeling the tears pooling behind your eyes. Seungmin moves closer to you and places your forehead on his shoulder as he runs soothing lines up and down your spine and pats your head with his other hand. You two sit like that for a few moments, your breathing coming back to normal. “G-green.”

Seungmin lightly pushes you back to sitting up. He smiles at you and grabs the rope again. He goes slower this time and finishes wrapping the rope around your body. He sits in front of you as you wiggle slightly as he asks if it's too tight. You promise him that you’re ok and he carefully lays you down on the bed again. He moves back to the box and pulls out the vibrator and the dildo. He returns to your side and traces the vibrator over the rope. You nod at him to continue and Seungmin smirks at you. He climbs on the bed and sits between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your soft skin as he turns the vibrator on.

He traces the vibrator over the rope and runs it along your arms. He slowly drags the vibrator between the valley of your breasts, making direct eye contact with you as he puts the device straight onto your nipple. You arch your back into the sensation and whine high as the vibrations send a wave of warmth down to your core. Seungmin spits into his hand and grabs the dildo, bringing it to your core and running it up and down your lips. You thrash at the feeling, bucking your hips to try to relieve the tension that's been building up between your legs since you and Seungmin were making out on your couch.

He teases the dildo against your entrance, slowly pushing the tip between your lips and quickly retreating, repeating the motion over and over again as he quickens the vibrations on your nipples.

“S-sir, please,” you plead, you need so much more than he’s giving you.

“Okay, pup, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin says sweetly as he forces the dildo into your core in one swift push. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, your walls pulse around the toy. He pulls the dildo out entirely and pushes it all the way in once again. There's a teasing smile on his lips as he pumped the toy deep into your cunt.

“F-feels s-so good,” you whine as you roll your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. “W-want you, s-sir,” you say with a stroke of confidence. He slowed his pace and he looked at you carefully. Something flashes across his face for a brief moment, his dominant persona being replaced by something else, something more desperate. He shook his head and his dominant persona was back. He removed the dildo from your cunt and turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. He leaves you alone on the bed as you watch him remove his clothes, the waistband of his underwear catching on his hard cock, releasing it to let it slap against his stomach. You watch him in awe as he pumps his cock a few times, running a hand through his hair pushing it back, giving you the most exquisite view you've ever seen. Seungmin pauses his movements and smirks down at you.

“Would you like to stay tied up or do you want your hands?” Seungmin looks down at you cautiously but still with a fire behind his eyes that makes you want to hide behind your hands… if they were free.

“I’d like to stay t-tied please,” you say quietly, wiggling on the bed. Seungmin nods and crawls over you, running a finger down your cheek to your chin. He places a feather-light kiss on your nose and continues his light kisses down your neck as he lines himself up to your entrance. He pushes his tip in slowly and harshly snaps his hips into yours, punching the breath out of you. Seungmin stills as he places gentle kisses along your collarbone, snaking his hand up to gently hold your neck.

“Breathe, pup,” Seungmin whispers as he begins to thrust into you at a slow but calculated pace. There isn't any rhythm to his thrusts but the depth that he's reaching inside you already has you seeing stars. You let out shaky breaths, trying your best to focus on Seungmin’s piercing gaze. He’s staring down at you, taking in every single twitch and hitch in your breathing. He’s analyzing what feels good, gauging your reactions to each thrust, each touch.

After a particularly pointed thrust you let out a high-pitched whimper and Seungmin’s gaze darkens. He starts thrusting in a steady rhythm now, hitting that spot that made you see stars, forcing high needy whimpers from your puffy lips. His hand on your neck tightens and his other hand finds your sweet little bundle of nerves. He lightly runs his finger over the bud and you attempt to reach down and pull his hand away from you, but your hands stay where they are, tied to your sides. You try to wiggle away from him but with his hand around your throat and his cock pressing deep inside your wet cunt you’re not entirely successful. Seungmin chuckles cynically at your attempt and he flicks his fingers over your clit repeatedly, watching as you hold back your moans with your lips pulled between your teeth and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Feel good, pup?” You whine in response, unable to form coherent words at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. You think for a brief moment that Seungmin will punish you for not answering his question with words, but apparently, he doesn't mind this time and continues his assault on your clit. After a rough thrust, you muffle another moan. Seungmin slaps your messy cunt harshly before soothing his hands over the area. “Don’t hold back your pretty moans, pup. Lemme hear how loud you can be for me.”

You're a writhing mess below him. Moans, ragged breaths, and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard in your small bedroom. You felt like you could've come at least 10 times already but this time, you can feel it’s different. You want to touch him, pull him close to you, kiss him as you come. “M-min, pl-please stop,” you ask breathlessly.

It takes him a moment to pause his movements before he's looking down at you attentively, searching your features for any discomfort. “Did it hurt? Are you ok? Did I go too rough?” he asks calmly, but there is concern written all over his face. You wiggle your hands that are still bound to your sides and look down at them and look back up to him quickly.

“Wan my hands,” you say quickly, adding an almost forgotten ‘please’ at the end. Seungmin looks down at your hands and quickly pulls at the knots, releasing your tired limbs from their hold, and resumes his previous pace before you have the time to recover. You yelp at the sudden movements and quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. “S-seungmin~” you whimper, “G-gonna, w-wanna cum.”

Seungmin must be close as his grunting has gotten louder since you wrapped yourself around him. “Cum when you’re ready pup, getting close.” Seungmin pushes his nose into your neck, lapping his tongue along your skin, pressing messy kisses here and there as he moans into you.

You feel something deep in your stomach begin to tighten. You dig your nails into Seungmin’s back as your moans get higher in pitch. You babble incoherent phrases as you wrap your legs around his body, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. Seungmin quickened his fingers against your clit, sliding his fingers into your tight cunt with his palm resting on your puffy (and incredibly abused) clit. The additional intrusion was enough to push you over. You muttered out an incoherent sound along with a breathless, “c-cuhm”, as your body shudders and your cunt pulses around Seungmins cock and fingers. A loud shriek pushes past your lips as your climax rushes through you. Seungmin mumbles encouragements into your skin, kissing your ear, chin, and neck. “That’s it pup, wan you to feel so good. Such a good pup, my good pup.”

You feel like you're floating as Seungmins pace begins to get more sloppy. He grinds into you as he groans more praises into your ear. “Good pup, so good for me. My good girl. Good pup, making me feel so good.” He curls his fingers up into your cunt adding pressure once again as he pushes in deeper, his tip kissing your cervix. “Cumin, pup, cuming,” he mumbles as he releases deep inside of you. The pressure of his fingers, his cock pushing against your cervix, and his cum filling you has another orgasm racing through you. You dig your nails into his back as you soundlessly cum again. Seungmin collapses on top of you, his breathing harsh as he softly rocks into you, riding out the last of both of your orgasms.

After a few moments, he pushes himself up to look down at you. He places a light kiss on your nose as he carefully removes himself from you. “Stay right there,” he whispers as he moves towards the bathroom. While he’s gone you catch your breath, stuck in a semi-trance. He’s back in a few moments with what looks like lotion and a towel. Seungmin makes quick and gentle work to wipe you down, rubbing lotion along your skin, all the while he's whispering sweet words to you. You feel so warm, so cared for, so wanted. He has you take a few sips of water before he pulls you into bed, letting you cuddle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. As you slowly drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel so loved, so safe.

The weekend passes by quickly, Seungmin leaving only to gather some clothes from his house. He spends the weekends exploring you, learning your inner workings, how your mind ticks and functions, how your body reacts to the things he does, and how his mind and body react to you. He also spends a portion of the weekend sending emails which he tells you are simply to figure out when his suspension ends. On Monday Seungmin will return to school, and though it has only been three days, getting used to calling him Mr. Kim in school again seems daunting with you now being used to simply calling him Seungmin.

“What if I just quit and go to another school?” You whisper as Seungmin parks the car in the school lot, Seungmin takes your hand softly, giving you a small smile before speaking.

“Everything will be fine, Miss Y/L/N. No more harassment from students, or staff.”

“How’d you know about the staff-”

“I just know my love, but I promise you, no more.” You’re not sure how Seungmin can make such a promise but still. You make your way into your classroom, your students all waiting attentively for you to start your lesson. The few typical troublemakers in the back sit unusually silent as you begin. A knock on your door causes you to stop your slideshow as a woman you haven’t seen before walks in, followed by Seungmin directly behind her. He closes the door and waits patiently for the woman to speak.

“Good morning students,” she starts, “Miss. Y/L/N.” she nods to you, “My name is Mrs. Im, as some of you may know,” she says as she stares to the back of the class where the usual group of boys sit up straight, some with their heads hung down. “I am your school's new principal. I’ve come to introduce myself. Miss. Y/L/N may I speak to you in the hallway quickly?” You nod as you follow her and Seungmin out into the hall. Your heart racing from not knowing what any of this was about.

“Mr. Kim, Mrs. Im. What is this about?”

“Miss. Y/L/N, I’ll need you to give me a list of the staff who have harassed you. I apologize for this being so sudden, but I’d like to rid my school of such behavior immediately.” Seungmin stands proud beside Mrs. Im as she speaks, “Though for now, I can only offer a suspension as we await investigation but I hope this helps you feel a bit safer within your workspace.” You nod softly as she smiles and walks away, leaving you alone for a moment with Seungmin.

“See my love? I told you. No more.” He smiles at you as he takes your hand gently in his, tracing his fingers across your digits and placing a soft and quick kiss on your fingertip. “Nothing bad's gonna happen to you anymore, not when I can help.” You can’t help the blush that dusts across your cheeks.

“I- uh, gotta get back to my class,” you say sheepishly as you slowly back towards your classroom.

“I’ll meet you at the car after school?” He asks cooly as he tucks his hands into his pockets, smirking at you.

“Of course, Mr. Kim,” you sing-song back to him as you walk into your classroom. Seungmin stands in the hallway for a beat before he turns around, kicking his feet, and lightly chucking to himself.

“My lovely little pup,” he whispers with a smile on his face as he walks down the hall, planning how he is going to have his way with you later this evening.

➽──────────────❥

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theladyofdeath · 9 months

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Lady Death's Lover {IV}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: And so it begins. Enjoy! Thank you to those of you who like, reblog, and/or leave comments! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

My Loving Sisters,

Very well, Feyre, I will not ask about Isaac but I encourage you to keep an open mind as you attend town functions. There are so many men out there and now you are able to meet them all before making the life-altering decision of marriage.

Remember your worth and do not settle for less. Even if you do not find a man that is drowning in riches, try to find someone you love and who loves you just as much in return. Find someone who cherishes you and makes you feel complete. Find someone who you want to be the first face you see in the morning and the last you see before you close your eyes at night. Find someone who makes you laugh and who understands you better than you understand yourself.

Promise me you will do this? Both of you! Find someone who brings you so much happiness you can hardly bear it.

I love you both,

Nesta

“No drinking, not even a sip.”

I nod as I follow Tomas down the hall, towards the dining room.

“Tonight, you represent me. I’m willing to make Lord Nazari a deal and if he’s not impressed by you, he’ll refuse me, which is unacceptable. So, you will sit at the table, speak only when spoken to, and smile. Is that understood?”

“Of course,” I say, because there is no other answer. “I will not disappoint.”

“Good.”

He doesn’t look at me again until we’re standing outside of the dining room and he offers me his arm. I slide mine through his, then the doors are being opened and we make our way inside.

The long table is decorated beautifully, covered in elaborate floral centerpieces and our finest dinnerware. There are only three chairs placed, one at each end and one in the middle that Lord Cassian stood behind.

He bowed his head as we entered, and we returned the gesture. Tomas led me to my seat before rounding to the opposite end and I sat first, then the two gentlemen. For a moment, we sit in silence, but then Tomas breaks it.

“Thank you for joining us,” he says, and smiles at me as if we’re the world’s happiest couple. I attempt to smile back, but I fear it comes out more like a grimace. “I hope you like lamb.”

Cassian nods. “Of course. Thank you for the invitation.”

“I have some business I’d like to discuss with you but, of course, that can wait until after dinner. The table is not meant for such talk, especially not with a lady present.” Tomas smiles in my direction once more. The smile on my face is starting to hurt. “Oh. I suppose I should introduce you. Mr. Nazari, this is my wife, Lady Nesta Mandray.”

Lord Cassian’s eyes flicker to me and I catch his gaze. He doesn’t look like he did the other night. Physically, he’s the same, but his eyes…they don’t hold as much light, there’s no humor. He nods politely. “A pleasure, my Lady.”

“The pleasure is mine,” I respond, and we hold each other’s gaze for another minute then our butler is entering, announcing our meal.

Food is laid out before us, a meal that I would have once killed for. There’s far too much for us to eat, just the three of us, and when the wine is brought out I notice that there is no wine glass by my place. Just a drinking glass, filled with water.

I take a deep breath and sip the clear liquid as the wine is poured for the men. Lord Cassian’s eyes flick to me once more. I set my water glass down.

“Lady Nesta,” he begins as I start to feel my plate, and my name on his mouth is…intriguing. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” I say, even though I’m not the one that keeps up with it. I run it, of course, but I do none of the hard work. “You’ve caught it before the transformation. We’ll be holding a ball soon.”

“Surely you’ll come,” Tomas says, cutting his meat. “From what I hear, you don’t miss social events very often.”

Cassian clears his throat, eyes still in my direction. I can’t help it. I look back, meet his eye and a bit of that humor has returned. “I do enjoy a dance. Socializing.”

“And the ladies of Velaris?” Tomas asks, taking a bite of his food, making an attempt at friendly conversation even if no one here is a friend.

I’m still watching him.

He’s still watching me.

“The ladies are the same season after season,” he says, eyes finally breaking from mine as he seasons his vegetables. “None of them interest me too much.”

“Not even the Lady Morrigan?” Tomas asks, and I hate to say that I’m interested in the answer. I saw how Lord Cassian and Lady Morrigan danced together at the last event, how they conversed and laughed and seemed to truly enjoy one another. He caught me watching them and I made myself scarce. I couldn’t help but watch them, though, couldn’t help but envy how comfortable they were with one another and how much it seemed like they liked each other. It was so…nice.

“I’ve known Lady Morrigan for most of my life,” he admits, and I look away as he smiles fondly at his food. “But, she is a friend and nothing more. To pursue her would feel like pursuing my sister.”

“Do you have any sisters?” I ask, then shoot a look to Tomas to make sure he doesn’t care that I’m speaking out of line. I am only meant to speak when spoken to, per his earlier request, but he doesn’t seem to care. At least, not now. Hopefully I am not punished later. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I’m an only child,” he says, but he doesn’t seem too distraught about it. “And you?”

“I have two sisters,” I say, taking my first bite of food at last. “They live in a village a few days ride from here. Both younger. My sister Elain is entering society this year, but my youngest sister, Feyre, will wait a year or two. Technically, she’s old enough, just barely, but not quite ready yet.”

The words rush out of me and I’m not sure why. Perhaps I just want to talk about something familiar. Tomas never asks about my family, about anything at all that involves me, really, he just sends them money and assumes all is well.

“Is your sister excited?” Lord Cassian asks, and he seems truly intrigued. “To enter society?”

“Well, their society is much different from Velaris’,” I confess. “The village is fairly small, but there are plenty of good men with decent fortunes. She’ll be able to find a good husband that will care for her, I have no doubt.”

“Well, I wish her all the best,” he says, taking a sip of his wine.

I wish I had wine.

“Thank you,” I say, and I realize I mean it.

The small talk continues as we eat. We don’t learn much about one another, but I suppose that’s not what small talk is for. Nonetheless, I find that I’m actually enjoying the company. At least, I don’t completely loathe the situation and wish I were anywhere else, which is my usual response. Once we’re finished, Tomas stands and I know my dismissal is coming.

“Mr. Nazari, if you’d like to join me in my study.”

I stand, and Lord Cassian waits for me to stand before he does so himself. He bows his head. “Thank you for the meal, my Lady.”

I nod, making a note to pass his praise for the evening onto our staff. Tomas extends a hand to the now open doors at the far end of the dining room and Lord Cassian watches me for another moment before they leave.

Once I’m alone, I round the table and go to where the half-emptied bottle of wine sits. I drink straight from the bottle and when I set it back down, I look to where our butler stands.

He gives me a small smile and a bow. “Your secret is safe, my Lady.”

“Thank you, Drakon,” I say quietly before making my exit.

Instead of going to my bedroom I find my way outside. It’s a nice night, the air is still warm but the breeze cool. The stars are out in their full glory and, assuming Tomas will be distracted with Lord Nazari for quite some time, I decide to go for a walk.

I don’t go far, but I make my way into the grass and cross through a series of rose bushes. I sit on the grass, not caring that it’s not ladylike, and look up at the sky. The Velaris starlight is something special. It’s something anyone can get lost in, no matter who you are. I found myself captivated my first night here and I’m just as captivated now as I was then. Lying back, I get comfortable. I let the little sounds of the great outdoors calm me while I lose myself in the stars. I hear the crickets and the frogs, the owls in the distance. It’s peaceful, which is ironic considering it’s only a handful of feet from the prison that is the home I share with my husband.

I don’t know how much time passes. I drift off for a little while, but before sleep can claim me, I’m picking myself up and dusting myself off. I only make it a few steps back towards the side door before a tall, dark figure rounds the side of the house.

As soon as he’s around the corner, Lord Cassian stops and looks around, then scratches the back of his neck.

“Are you lost?”

He jumps, and the sight is so humorous that I can’t help but laugh.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m usually not standing out in the dark garden, waiting for our guests to leave,” I say as he turns to face me and scratches the back of his neck, once more. The gesture suits him, even if it’s ungentlemanly. “Although, I do wonder why you’re walking around the side of my house in the middle of the night?”

He chuckles and I swear I see a hint of pink on his cheeks. “Mr. Mandray and I just wrapped up our conversation. He offered to have my horse brought around, but I told him I could see to him myself. Told me the stables were this way, but now I’m thinking they’re not.”

I shake my head, trying to suppress my grin. “Opposite direction. Tomas’ directional skills, especially when intoxicated, which I’m sure he is, are a little off.”

“Even at his own home?” He asks, and he takes a step closer to me. Even in the dark, the starlight gives us just enough light so that I can see him clearly. I can see his humored expression, the light in his eye, the way his hair is falling out of the little strap that had been holding it back.

“Let’s just say he doesn’t go to the stables himself,” I say, crossing my arms, suddenly feeling far too seen. “Which, I’m surprised you are. Are lords meant to retrieve their own horses?”

“This one is,” he says, simply, stopping a healthy distance away.

We fall into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s nice.

“Look, I know this is a strange request, but could you not mention to my husband that you found me out here?” I ask. He wouldn’t be pleased, both that I’m outside at such an hour or that I’m outside with a man that isn’t him. Either way, I wish for it to remain between the two of us.

He frowns, but nods with no questions asked. “Of course. I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you,” I say, and rock back on my heels. “I should get inside. Do you think you can find the stables okay?”

“I suppose I’ll circle the house until I find it,” he says, and as I step closer, I can smell the smoke and liquor radiating off of him. I never understood why drinking was a necessary component of making a business deal, but it always seems to be.

I cannot ignore how the distance between us has grown smaller. In fact, I’m far too aware. Every inch of me is aware. “Are you sure you’re okay to ride? I can ask the staff to prepare a room—”

“No,” he says, not unkindly. “I promise I look worse than I feel. I’ll be quite alright. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

We fall into that silence again, and I hadn’t realized how close we had drifted. Suddenly feeling inappropriate, I formally bow my head. “Goodnight, my Lord. Travel safely.”

I go to step around him but he steps in front of me and I remember our night at the ball, when he did the same thing. Then, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough after hearing who my husband is.

“Why are you doing business with Tomas?” I blurt out, and I can tell he’s surprised by my question.

“Good opportunity,” he says, shrugging. “Does it bother you?”

“Why would it?” I ask, perhaps a little too quickly.

He doesn’t answer me, but he’s watching me and I feel that’s worse, for him to be staring at me so intently, so curiously, in complete and utter silence.

“I should…” I clear my throat, my voice quiet. “I should go inside, my Lord.”

“Of course,” he whispers. “My apologies for distracting you.”

“You didn’t—”

“Goodnight, Lady Nesta,” he says, and there it is, my name on his tongue once more.

Neither of us moves. I don’t know what’s happening, can’t make sense of the feelings inside of me as I stare up at this man, this stranger. Maybe it’s just because he’s the complete opposite of Tomas in every way, but I can’t convince my feet to move, even though I should.

“Goodnight,” I say, at last, but my feet remain planted. Then, I say once more, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I convince my feet to move at last, convince my eyes to leave his even though every ounce of my body is protesting. It’s been too long since a man has spoken to me like I’m human, since someone has looked at me the way he’s looking at me. It’s compelling, hypnotic, and I hate the fact that I don’t want it to end.

But it must.

This is inappropriate. I know it’s inappropriate, know that a woman with a husband does not stand within a foot of another man, especially not alone, especially not in the dead of night, especially not a lady.

And we were doing all those things. Standing so close we could touch with nothing but the starlight as a chaperone.

As I turn away from him and walk towards the house, I feel a certain heaviness creep into my spirit that wasn’t there while we stood so close together. That realization is why I open the side door, step inside, and don’t look back.

#regency au #period au #19th century au #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm

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gyllenhaalstories · 1 year

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CHERISH (PART 2) — CHOCOLATIER!JAKE 🍫

summary: he brings the cream, you bring the pie. together you’re making... cupcakes?

warnings: curse words, food, baking & eating, smut (food play, finger sucking, aphrodisiac, fingering, handjob, pussy spanking, masturbation, penetration, creampie, hyperspermia & cum play). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3385

gifs credits: me (@/gyllenhaalstories) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i hope you’re ready, because it’s time for you to become a cream filled chocolate truffle! since this THE PART 2 OF THIS FIC, that means it’s still the season of pink, hearts and pink hearts so happy valentine’s day again! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

When Jake saw you grab the container of store bought frosting, his heart came close to stop beating. He snatched it out of your hand faster than the speed of your spoon diving into the sugary product.

You rolled your eyes at him, and at his genuinely shocked face before you started laughing with him — well no, it was directly at him. Right in his face too, because he remained stoic, holding the jar far out of your reach. “It’s just frosting.”

“It’s not just frosting! It’s the most important part of the cupcakes! It needs to be delicious and that?” His eyes widened while he waved the frosting in the air. “That’s unacceptable.” He put the container back where you found it, with the lid and all. “You can eat it behind my back, like when I’m in the shower —” but we shower together, you interrupted. You counter offered his other suggestions until he gave up and agreed to let you ruin another baked good, but not his cupcakes.

You found it funny how he turned into a busy, overwhelmed mom who was just reminded the night before by her forgetful children that they signed her up for some charity event at the school that would go down in flames without her box-mix cupcakes. He reacted dramatically to a lot of the things, you noticed. After several other dates since your first one at his chocolaterie, you discovered he was... Special. He liked things to be in order, clean and organized especially in the kitchen, while the rest of his life prevailed in a complete chaos. He was so different in and outside of the kitchen, you wondered if he allowed himself to have a bit of fun or if he was too scared that his Kitchen Aid stand mixer would judge him for eternity.

Jake resumed to measuring the rest of the ingredients, following the recipe he knew by heart for having baked it over and over again. He tweaked it to make it his own, he could not help it, but he recited the measurements out loud like a sing-song he learned. Your job as a sous-chef was reduced to putting paper liners in the muffin tin and sucking his finger clean whenever he would present you with a bit of the sweet preparation to taste. Premade frosting was out of the question, but raw eggs seemed to go by just fine.

At some point, you figured he just liked to have you suck on his fingers. Maybe it was the moans he let out when he felt your tongue swirl around his digits, or the fact he would tease your mouth with clean fingers even after the cupcakes were put in the oven. And you loved it too, how the deeper his fingers pushed in your mouth, the more you felt your mind going blank.

The alarm of the timer rang, snapping you back to reality at the poke of a toothpick coming out clean from the chocolate cupcakes. Jake did not stop cooking, and talking to himself about how he hoped Ina Garten would forgive him for his sins — which was to use his own chocolate wafers instead of the semisweet chocolate chips the well-known and even more well-loved chef recommended.

You watched him with an amused smile, while he was measuring the rest of the wafers while waiting for the bain-marie to get ready. He tried to be subtle, you knew it, but you caught him snacking on a couple of pieces of chocolate. So much so that he had just about enough for the last steps of the recipe and the replacement for your forbidden frosting.

Once the water started to simmer, he placed a glass bowl on the pot and poured the chocolate disks in it. He stirred the chocolate as it melted before yours and his eyes, smooth and satiny. He dipped his finger in the hot concoction — his fingers had been long desensitized to burning with all the years of baking he had underneath the cute apron he wore around his waist. It was your Valentine’s day gift to him, belated, but still a thought act.

“You know...” You spoke, Jake’s eyes left the glass bowl to meet with yours. “When I suggested we could bake cupcakes, I didn’t mean we should turn into a fancy bakery. We’ve been at it for a long time.”

He shook his head, in a strangely calm manner. “There’s nothing ironic about baking. I take it very seriously.” He sucked on his own chocolate dipped finger, releasing it with a pop, to further prove his point. “I’m almost done anyway. You’ve helped me plenty, time flew by!” When you rolled your eyes at his comment about your nonexistent help, he insisted. “You’re standing there and looking beautiful with flour hand prints on your butt. That’s more helpful than anything else.”

You earned a kiss that you tried to deepen and make last longer, but Jake pulled away to complete the chocolate ganache. The heavy cream and chocolate mixed together beautifully and you wrapped your arms around his torso while he expertly dipped the now cooled down cupcakes into the chocolate. You tried to sneak a peek of his work, but he was moving so much in your embrace that it made it hard to focus.

He ended your confusion by offering by sharing the rest of the ganache, using a spatula to scoop it from the bowl until the two of you acted giddy, giggling as he licked and kissed drops of sweet goodness that fell on your chin.

It took a little while — a few minutes, really — to notice the familiar sensations that were spreading through your body, starting at your tongue and sending electric waves all the way down between your thighs. Oh.

Oh, yeah, fucking finally, Jake murmured to himself. He smiled just as big and proud as the first time you tried his special chocolate at his boutique during your very first date. He pulled you closer to him, wanting to admire all the small changes that were starting to happen to you. He held your face delicately in his big hands, his eyes diving into yours while your pupils were growing larger and while your mouth dropped ajar. He mirrored everything — how his tongue could not stay still in his mouth like it was begging to touch yours, how your head wanted to loll to the side. “Let it go, sweetheart, let it go.”

The way he cooed at you helped your head get emptier and emptier until... Until you could not think of anything else except him. Except how badly you wanted him and needed to feel him. You wanted to scream at how much it hurt not to have his hands on your breasts or his mouth on your clit. You wanted to beg and beg until he would relieve some of that delicious pain.

His hands slid from your cheeks down to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck while he pulled you in for a kiss that was all tongues and teeth. The longer the kiss lasted, the more he felt like the world around you was vanishing into a thick fog.

It was the same way you felt, using whatever control on your body you had left to make your way to the bedroom. You let him grope your breasts over your clothes, rubbing his thumbs over the small bumps your hard nipples created until he heard you moan into his mouth.

Jake pulled away, only to lick some of the drool that fell down the corner of your mouth and kissed you hard again, making it as messy as he could while his hands kept exploring your body. He pulled moan after moan after you with touches as simple as the warmth of his palms pressing against the goosebumps on your skin.

In a blink of an eye, all of your clothes were piling up on the floor with nothing but your body heat and the burning desire to indulge in each other’s bodies. Unlike the first time you tasted the chocolate, you did not stand alone in this euphoric experience.

Jake looked just about as far gone as you were, with glossy eyes and quick breathing that resembled a needy panting. He was hard, his cock throbbing as you exchanged another series of feverish kisses. When you took him in your hand, he had to lean on you so his knees would not give in. Not that he ignored the effects of the aphrodisiac, but, even after he tested it on you, he realized just how powerful a few bites of that magic substance could be. It made precum leak out of his sensitive, pink tip. It made his abs clench at the strong sensation of your hand stroking him. It made him throw his head back when you cupped his balls into your left hand, using the other one to keep jerking him off.

You could tell he was holding back, with his clenched jaw and the tight grip he had on your soft hips, his short nails digging into your flesh. He wanted to fuck your hand hard and fast and catch his own release.

He did not give in, however. It would all be a waste if he did not get to feel you while being in this physical state, while having his mind and senses played with by a few bites of chocolate. Another kiss, another couple of strokes of his big cock and you were pushed on the bed. Jake barely let you find a comfortable spot to lay on that he was kneeling on the bed too and forcing your legs open to reveal what he wanted the most.

Your inner thighs were covered in your wetness, your folds were slightly puffy from the arousal alone and from this deep, uncontrollable need for Jake to touch you and bring back those fireworks you first experienced under the influence of the aphrodisiac.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jake mumbled, or moaned — both at the same time, actually. The aphrodisiac had him slurring his words and fighting to say a sentence with minimal coherence. He wrapped each arm around one of your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, making you gasp with surprise when you felt your skin slap against his.

You covered your face with your hands as he finally touched you. His flat hand rubbed over your pussy from side to side, fast and harsh. The more he touched you, and the more his fingers rubbed over your clit when your folds moved out of the way, the wetter you were getting. It was so much more intense than your first time, and it kept on getting better.

Jake slapped your puffy folds, although the blows were soft, they were stinging your sensitive skin. He messed with your brain that had trouble differentiating between the pain of the spanks and the bliss of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. He was mesmerized, jaw dropped and eyes wide as he spanked you a few more times and watched you flinch under him. Each spank was followed by a squeal and giggles, mixed with a moan that sounded like music to his ear. He wanted to hear more — he needed more.

You inhaled loudly, only for the oxygen to get stuck in your throat when you felt Jake’s cock pressing at your entrance and sliding inside your tight hole, eased by your wetness and the precum that covered the tip of his cock. You removed your hands from your face and placed them on your tits, trying to hold them in place while he started to fuck you. You only had a few slow and deep strokes to adjust to the delicious feeling of his cock inside your walls before he picked up the pace.

He gripped on your thighs again that he kept pressed against his body so that he could rock his hips back and forth. Curse words you had never heard from him were submerged by the sound of his deep grunts while he kept thrusting inside of you. Somehow, despite the mix of your juices, he could feel your walls tightening and clenching around his length every time he pushed his cock inside of you after pulling back. He was only chasing the maximum pleasure he could pull out of you — and give back to you.

Pretty moans turned into audible gasps and abrupt screaming when his cock hit the spongy spot inside of you. It seemed as though he calculated the number of times he hit your spot, trying to make you feel as good as possible while also stretching out the time he could enjoy your pussy. One look at him confirmed there was not a thought behind those lust-filled eyes, he was driven by his desire to bury his cock as deep inside of you as you would let him.

He clenched his jaw one moment only to press his lips together the next and hold himself back on moaning more so he could get lost in the obscene sounds your bodies created together. The slapping, the sticky wetness, the rushed and heavy breathing. When he could not hold in his own noises, he groaned and slowed down his thrusting.

He was fucking you hard and deep, so deep that you kept being pushed further away on the bed, dragging the bed sheets with you. “Please,” you spoke for what felt like the first time in forever. “Please, don’t stop!”

He did stop. He stopped to look down at where your bodies no longer met as the distance pulled you away from him, his cock bopping up and down, begging to be reunited with your pussy. Jake took a moment to catch his breath and admire the beautiful scene before his eyes. The veins of his arms, and cock, were bulging out from the sheer force with with he was fucking you. There was a layer of sweat covering both his body and yours, and visible wet spots on the bed sheets that created a trail from the edge of the bed to the middle where you now laid.

Impatient, your body burning into flames, you sat to reach up and pull Jake down with you. He was quick enough to climb on the bed, the tip of his cock brushing against the same wet spots you left behind on the fabric, and you held his cock in your hand briefly to guide it back where it belonged.

He pushed himself all the way back inside you, now kneeling between your thighs that he kept open for him — and for you. Withing even having to tell you, Jake loved to watch you rub the sensitive bundle of nerves that resided between your just as sensitive, soaking wet folds. He pulled away, just a little, and slammed himself back inside of you as he fucked you in this other position.

The aphrodisiac was nowhere near close to run out, you could tell. It still felt just as intense as it did while the effects began to work their magic over you. Your bodies, however, were running out of energy to last. You could tell that too by the fact you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm now that you rubbed your clit in a just as messy rhythm as the one Jake fucked you with.

He was getting so close too, his grunts became more succinct and his face tensed up with the powerful pleasure that ran through his veins. There was no need to speak, words were completely unnecessary as Jake and you let the aphrodisiac take complete control over you.

Your orgasm hit you by surprise, or well, sort of. As soon as you felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, you knew you were about to explode in an orgasm that pushed the air out of your lungs and made you see stars even when you closed your eyes. It felt even stronger with your eyes closed than it did when you kept them open. It felt as though you could notice each vein on Jake’s cock, the swollen tip of his cock diving in and out of your slick walls. And then you felt it. All of it.

Jake fell down to his elbows, his face conveniently buried in the crook of your neck as he came inside of you, his pelvis flushed with you from how deep he was. Ropes and ropes of cum shot out of his cock while his hips jerked a few times uncontrollably, until he felt like something was pushing him out.

It was not you, not intentionally at least. You would have loved nothing more than to calm down from your high with the feeling of Jake’s cock softening inside of you. Although you could feel something still filling you up even if his cock was sliding out of you.

“Oh my,” Jake spoke when he finally pulled out of your pussy. “Oh my God.” It was still hitting him, he was still cumming with more of his seed just dripping out of his slit. There was even more trickling out of your hole. You looked as confused as Jake. This did not happen with him before... This had never happened to him before. His brows were raised in stupefaction one second and furrowed in confusion the next, he held his cock at the base in one hand while two fingers of his free hand dipped into your cum filled entrance.

It felt so good when he pushed his fingers barely past your entrance, as he felt even more cum inside of you. Quickly, he replaced his fingers with his cock and made you scream of pleasure as he finished inside you with a few more thrusts and pumps. You realized he fucked his cum back inside of you, not even minding that most of it was covering his cock and oozing out of you.

He fell back on you again, slowly and carefully this time so he did not hurt you. And, finally, you cherished the feeling of his softening cock inside of you while you both tried to catch your breath. Jake was mumbling to himself how it felt incredible, how it was so weird and so hot, and how he wanted to do it again — and he wanted it so fucking bad. He tried to move, arms and legs incredibly shaky, but you held him tighter and closer against your just as tired body.

“Where are you trying to go?” You whined, making room between your legs for him to lay down more comfortably.

Jake giggled in your ear, his laughter filled with excitement. The kisses he pressed all over your cheek, jawline and neck were filled with just as much lust as they were earlier. “Trying to get up to grab a snack.”

He squirmed on top of you, but all he managed to do was fall by your side and hug you tight against him. If he wanted to get up, he was failing rather adorably. “A snack? For what?” You turned your head to look at him, you were so close your noses almost touched.

He smiled at you, the same smile he had glued on his pretty face during your date at the boutique. You swore to yourself you would cherish this image forever. “So we can do that again. And again...” He leaned in closer to capture your lips with a kiss. “And again until there’s no more of that good stuff.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, that was the strongest reaction you could express with how exhausted you felt after this mind blowing orgasm. “It’s in the cupcakes?” Yup. “All of them?” Jake nodded in approval. “I can’t take it anymore. Not right now.” You tried to resonate with him, only the way your voice cracked betrayed your own desire to try it again and again...

“You’ll take it.” Jake answered, quite firmly. “Because this magic chocolate will definitely be in all the desserts we bake from now on.”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x you

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youreallyshouldtalkmore · 6 months

Text

Dark Imagination_ Part 7

A.N: Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs, comments, etc!! I appericate it!! I'm glad that you all are liking the story!

Genshin Impact MasterList

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The next day was fraught with a tension so thick one could cut it. It was like no one wanted to be the one to tip the balance. Barely any words were exchanged that night in the coven, between you and them or even between themselves. It was as if words had ceased to have meaning. You found yourself thankful as it afforded you time to be in your thoughts. Thoughts that drifted this way and that until that following night as you watched the last rays of the sun disappear from the sky. Turning from the window, you exited your bedroom and strode purposely down the familiar hallways.

They would be waking fairly soon.

When they emerge from their sleeping chambers, they were quite surprised to see you waiting at the entrance of the hallway. They were all stunned as you turned to them without preamble, “We need to talk.”

Then you turned and walked away, expecting them to follow you.

Silently, they exchanged looks. Alhaitham was the first to begin to follow you, without looking back at the other two. Neuvillette followed second but paused when he realized Zhongli seemed frozen. Then he turned, hands leaning on his cane. Despite being one of the Seven Vampire Lords, Neuvillette knew he must have been the most scared out of the three of them. It took a moment for Zhongli to gather himself to raise his head and begin walking. He saw approval in Neuvillette’s eyes as he passed. He snorted silently. Like he needed the approval. Though, it did help to gauge that he wasn't losing himself.

You and Alhaitham had already been waiting, sitting down on the couches, as Zhongli and Neuvillette wandered in. Even Xiao stood in the shadows in the corner of the room. You had asked him to be present, so Xiao obliged but would not participate in the pending conversation.

Once everyone was settled, you spoke, "Xiao explained, I should make a decision by tonight if we needed time to see the witches again."

"He's not incorrect." Zhongli spoke. He realized that not one person here told you how you would get home. Perhaps he should have done so day one, but somewhere in him, he was loathed to admit he hadn't wanted you to know.

“So, what do you wish to do? Have you made your decision?" Alhaitham asked, folding his arms.

You hadn't looked at them since you sat down, and instead were looking at your clasp hands in your lap.

"....I…never thought that vampires were real. That even another world existed, much less vampires. They were only ever stories in my world. One of millions of stories. Fantasy. I loved fantasy as it was….an escape. A friend. The only one I had."

"You…surely you had friends?" Neuvillette asked softly. He could not imagine someone like you not having friends. Many in fact. Why would someone not want to be friends with you.

You shook your head, "No, I didn't have any friends."

Zhongli breathed, "That's unacceptable."

"Indeed." Alhathiam spoke.

"I concur." Neuvillette added.

You smiled lightly at this. Why did that warm you? You continued, "Either way, I made do and would have continued, but then I was brought to this world."

There was a lull of silence.

A silence was testing all three vampire's patience.

Alhaitham breathed. What was your decision exactly? He could not discern with all this setup. It was close to driving him to distraction. He barely managed to finish one book in the past several days because his mind was far from what was on the page.

An unfortunate, fortunate thing, depending on the point of view.

You licked your lips, "I mean, if it's not too much trouble…I…I…."

Why was this so hard? Either decision would irrevocable change your life. Was there a wrong choice, or was it that you just had to choose?

"...I….would like to stay."

You finally got it out, and you swore the room froze. You risk looking up to find three pairs of eyes riveted on you.

Neuvillette was the first to speak, "Allow me to clarify, you wish to stay? Does that mean you consent to become this coven’s Blood Mistress?"

You nodded.

"And to clarify that, you'll let us drink your blood?" Alhaitham asked.

You ducked your gaze but nodded.

They both turned to Zhongli who seems to have frozen into stone.

"Breathe, my friend.”, Neuvillette murmured, “She is staying.”

"My lord?" Xiao had appeared next to Rex Lapis and ventured to touch his arm.

Zhongli stirred then before reaching up to rub his temples, "I…. am fine. I heard. You have my gratitude, Miss. Y/N."

Xiao gave you a thankful smile and bowed once in gratitude. You only shook your head.

Neuvillette glanced at Alhaitham, "I think, it's right that the oldest vampire among us should have the first taste, no?"

"I have reading to catch up on." The scholar said without preamble before disappearing on the spot.

Neuvillette stood and smiled reassuringly at you, "Is this acceptable, madame?"

You nodded with wide eyes. Neuvillette inclined his head once before walking out of the room without a backwards glance. Xiao sketched a bow before disappearing, leaving you alone with Zhongli.

No, you thought with a shiver, Rex Lapis. It was obvious the way he was looking at you that it was Rex Lapis.

You swallowed as his amber eyes captured yours. You were dimly aware of Xiao reappearing briefly in the room with a tray of tea. He set it down before disappearing again.

Then Rex Lapis broke your gaze, looking down at the tea. Wordlessly, he fixed two cups of tea. Why did it seem he was doing it at an agonizing pace, each movement measured and unhurried?

Yet, his eyes kept cutting towards you, as if you’d disappear at any given moment. Finally, two cups were made to his perfection before he picked up one and sat it down in front of you.

“Something to calm the nerves.” He murmured as he glanced outside. It seemed the rain was receding, he thought in amusement.

You swallowed nervously, “May I ask a question?”

Rex Lapis blew over his tea once before responding, “Always.”

“Will I turn into a vampire?”

He looked at you then, eyes piercing, “Do you wish to be?”

You ducked your head, “I said I'd become this coven’s Blood Mistress. I've already accepted whatever that entails.”

Rex Lapis chuckled, “You humans come up with clever ideas. I do not have to turn you. Blood Mistress or Master naturally have their lives extended. Some chose to become a vampire, but that is not a decision you need to make any time soon.”

You breathed, “Ah, I see. Good to know.”

You didn’t think you had any more strength to make any more life altering decisions right now.

Honestly, just getting to this step required all your brain power in the last few days. You weren't sure what you would do if you had to think about turning. You just barely began to stay up to 2am…..sometimes.

Rex Lapis stood and crossed the room in one stride to sit next to you, “My, my you are trembling, my dear.”

He took the cup out of our hands after sitting his own down, placing it next to his own. Then he placed his gloved hand over yours.

It seemed you were a bundle of nerves right now. Not only from making this decision, but also from the new reality facing you.

A gloved hand came under your chin and lifted your head. His lips were inches from yours, making you gasped lightly.

“Are you frightened?”

“Yes.” Why lie, when he could hear your heartbeat?

“You have nothing to be frightened about. I will not cause you any undue pain.”, He caressed your cheek, his own lips parting, and you saw the fangs glinting in the darkness.

His thumb rested on your lips as his other hand came around your waist, pulling you to him.

His voice seemed to deepen as his amber eyes glowed. He whispered more to himself, "I've waited so, so long. Too long…I…"

His eyes darted to your neck. He seemed to be in a trance as he brought his lips closer and closer.

Then suddenly he was snatching himself away from you, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Over your own heartbeat, you heard him mutter, "No, this is wrong. I shouldn't be doing this."

You gazed at him, who had his head turned away from. You heard him muttering under his breath. It just occurred to you. You were frightened of this new reality.

Was he as well?

Your eyes soften as you reached up and gingerly turned his face back to you, pulling his hand down.

He went because he felt he had no choice.

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I've already agreed, so you are doing nothing wrong.”

"You say that, but I hear your heartbeat. You are afraid. You even admitted as much."

"As are you."

Rex Lapis looked as if you slapped him.

You gave a teasing shy smile, “You aren’t?”

"Is this what you call fear? Fear that I would hurt you despite promising you are safe with me. Fear that you would come to regret your choice? If that is fear, then yes, I am afraid."

You gave a smile that seemed to become the moonlight itself, making his breath hitched.

"Your words comfort me more than you know." You guided his hand to lay at the base of your neck, lowering your eyes.

Rex Lapis brought one hand up to pull his glove off with his teeth without his eyes moving away from your neck. Then he quickly did the same with the other before tilting your chin.

“Forgive my disturbances, then.” He spoke as his arm snaked around your waist once more. His other hand ran a fingernail down your neck.

Strange…. You thought vampires were supposed to cold, be he was fairly warm. Your eyelids fluttered, as he dipped his head to your neck.

Then, his tongue dated out, running over your skin once. Twice. You clung to him became you couldn't do anything else. You shut your eyes with a grimace as you felt his teeth sink into your neck. You felt him shudder as he tried to bring you closer to him.

It hurt but then, a warmth followed, filling you down to your bones, making you sigh.

You felt yourself float for seemingly a long while before finally Rex Lapis pulled back, “No more….no more…."

He seemed to be telling himself this as you pried open your eyes to look up at him. He had his own head tilted back, and you could see the stain of your blood on his lips before he licked them.

After a few minutes, he lowered his head to look down at you with a soft smile, "Thank you, my dear. That was worth the wait."

Then he turned and picked up your teacup, “Please drink. You may feel yourself weakened. I shall have Xiao bring you some food to replenish the blood I took.”

You reached for the cup but found your hands were trembling as you accepted it. Zhongli used one hand to hold it over yours to steady you.

You drank.

When you finished, Zhongli took the cup and placed it on the table before leaning over and kissing you on the forehead.

Part 8

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli #zhongli x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #vampires

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skzoologist · 5 months

Note

I got another idea for a fic :]]

So one of the members (you choose who) are struggling. It could be they aren't feeling so good about themselves, or they are struggling with a dance move or anything that's just making them feel down they obvi try to hide that cuz they don't want the others to worry but Bae notices the small change in their behavior and comforts them :]]

(hope you don't mind me coming here randomly with fic ideas😅)

-🐿️

word count: ~1.7-1.8k

warnings: negative thinking, self-deprecative thoughts

genre: hurt/comfort

a/n: Hey-ho 🐿️ anon, hope you don't mind that I wrote this request of yours now, and not the other two you sent in earlier than this. I just think we all need a hug, so I wrote this one instead. Love your ideas, as always, and I hope you enjoy reading this!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Bae woke up with a strange feeling in his chest. It gnawed away at his flesh and ribs, desperate to get out and do something. Albeit what, he did not know.

But it was concerning.

It had nothing to do with himself, Bae was sure about it. He felt well-rested -as rested as you could get with their schedules-, his body was in a fine condition. Even his unruly hair was in an acceptable condition in the morning, something that was rare. It just confused him.

If it wasn’t about his own condition, then what was his body warning him about, endlessly ringing that alarm bell in his head?

With furrowed eyebrows, he got ready for the day, fully clothed in some loose clothing, the one he always wore to dance practice. He wanted to go over some older choreos, lest his body forget them, something that would be unacceptable.

No one else was up when Bae sneaked out of his room, an unsurprising fact.

Much like his dear leader, he was a workaholic, leaving himself with the bare minimum of sleep in exchange for more work. Which was why he was usually the first one to check on Chan if he wasn’t in his bed -or god forbid, the couch in the dorm’s living room-, finding the man in his studio with dark circles and a hunched back, fatigue clinging to him desperately. It would lead to the younger patiently waiting there in silence, just until his hyung’s eyes finally closed. Even with Chan’s well-built form, Bae didn’t have a lot of problems moving him over to the couch, leaving only after a blanket was draped over the exhausted man.

But that day Chan was in his bed, thankfully, allowing Bae to go straight to their usual practice room, where he could let the music take over and move his body to its own whims, only for the others to find him still dancing, hours later. Sweat dripped from him in translucent rivers, long locks of hair sticking uncomfortably to heated skin. His chest heaved up and down, the lack of air only registering in his mind then.

Danceracha didn’t hesitate to start berating him, talking his ear off about resting more while his water bottle was pushed into his hands roughly. He let them talk without saying anything, hungrily drinking the clear liquid from the bottle in his grasp.

Bae’d already done this dance of theirs hundreds of times, the others always finding him working and practising with little to no rest in that same room, nearly every morning. He’d learned that letting them scold him was the best route to take, the one where their worries for him took on the smallest possible form.

“Hyung, you really gotta rest more, that’s also part of a healthy lifestyle!” - Felix angrily told him, nose slightly scrunched up in frustration. “Felix, you know that he doesn’t listen, just let it go.” - Minho replied in Bae’s stead, who just stood there silently. “But then what should we do?!” “Take away his access to the room.” “Minho hyung, I could kiss you.” “Please don’t.”

The two chased after each other, Felix offended at the disgusted face Minho made at his comment. There was a playfulness in all of it, slightly easing that gnawing sensation in Bae’s chest.

Yet, the moment he looked over at the only other silent person in the room, it strengthened, making his brows slightly furrow and lips dip down.

Hyunjin looked different. Not in his appearance, no, there was nothing wrong or off about that. Those long, dark strands were pulled back in that oh so familiar hairstyle, his usual clothes loose on his skin. No, it was the way his lips were in a small, permanent downwards arch, eyes duller than usual, as if the moon was blocking out the sun’s radiant shine.

It didn’t sit well with Bae.

In a blink it was gone, a smile in its place as Hyunjin waved at the taller member, playfully looking at him with a questioning hum. It felt as if it was all a hallucination, the unavoidable consequences of his own relentless dancing. The more he looked, the more he convinced himself of that.

Hyunjin seemed fine.

Soon the four of them started dancing, working on their new choreography. It went much like it usually did, everyone throwing in their ideas for certain parts and beats in the music, the others voicing their opinion about it. Minho called the final shots, being the one with the most knowledge in the area. None of them had any problems with it, it only felt natural.

Once they had it mostly done, it was time to rehearse a different choreography for their future tour, making small adjustments here and there. Their dynamic was impeccable, everyone stayed in their own bubble and performed the moves perfectly.

And yet, yet Bae couldn’t help but frequently glance at Hyunjin through the floor-to-ceiling mirror that stood unshakeable in front of them. It took him several repeats of the song, but he caught more and more small things that were off in the way Hyunjin moved and behaved. A small tremble of an arm, a misplaced foot by only a few inches, that same downturned smile appearing for the split of a second.

Nobody else seemed to have noticed, based on their lack of reaction, only Bae.

The moment Minho announced that they were done and the two youngest collapsed onto the floor, Bae didn’t hesitate to throw a look at the older’s way. At his slight head tilt and concerned eyes, Bae subtly pointed at Hyunjin and the door, making sure the other two weren’t looking. Understanding flashed through those dark eyes, a slight nod letting the otter know about it.

“Huh? Bae hyung and Jinnie hyung, aren’t you two coming?” - Felix asked, confused as he was gently being ushered out by Minho. “No, we’ll go later. See you, Lixie, Lino hyung.” - Bae answered in a lighthearted tone, hoping it would ease the younger’s concerns and maybe even erase them.

The aussie only mumbled an ‘Oh, okay’ and animatedly waved, leaving the room with only one of his hyungs. It left just the two artists there, alone, one still laying on the ground, the other sitting down next to him quietly.

It was silent.

Bae didn’t need to say anything, he knew Hyunjin realised he’d failed to hide something from him. So, he patiently waited there, until the boy would open up to him at his own pace. Only a phone was in Bae’s hands, the chat with Hyunjin’s manager open.

It didn’t matter what Hyunjin had scheduled for the rest of the day, Bae would take on the consequences for cancelling and rescheduling them. Knowing this fully well, the manager didn’t argue at all and just did as he was asked. Not wanting to keep him out of the loop, Bae sent a quick text to Chan as well, knowing how the man could get when it came to his members and their wellbeing.

“Hyung, am I not good enough?” - Hyunjin’s voice was quiet, heartbreakingly so.

Bae instantly locked and pocketed his phone, his attention solely on his younger member and the way his voice trembled. Gently, the older took the hand that laid closer to him and grasped it, caressing the skin with his thumb. Not a sound escaped him, knowing fully well that it wasn’t the end of what Hyunjin wanted to say.

“It’s just, am I worthless? Is my dancing not good or precise enough? Is my voice too nasally and bad? Am I ugly? Is all my work really not enough? All I keep seeing online are people saying how I’m not dancing as well as I used to, how I should’ve gotten less lines and let someone else, like Seungminnie, sing more, and just how I used to look better like this and that, or how others look better than me. Should I even be here, in this group? Do I even deserve it at this point?”

By the end, Hyunjin’s voice completely broke, just like the dam that held his tears back. The crystal droplets endlessly fell from his eyes, running over the expanse of pale skin and carving a way for themselves down to the floor. Quiet sounds escaped his throat and through his fingers, a hand placed there, although useless in muffling any voice. The other hand that was held moved away from its place, its new assignment to hide those sorrowful depths and block out anyone from witnessing them, from letting the heartbroken boy acknowledge the fact that someone was seeing his broken and curled up form.

As gently as he could, Bae scooted over and took the trembling boy in his hold, letting him weep into his clothes and skin. A hand was carding through those dark locks soothingly in an unheard rhythm, the other holding onto as many pieces as it could, mending them together. A low hum left his throat, one that made Hyunjin move into the crook of his neck, hiding from the world and his gaze.

“You’re more than enough, Jinnie. You are beautiful and handsome, pulling off looks others couldn’t even dare to think about. Your voice is soft, taking anyone who listens to it into a cosy headspace, as if they were bundled up in front of the fireplace amidst the harsh weather of winter. The dance style you have is unique, your moves captivating and flowing together perfectly. You’re talented and hardworking, someone who undeniably earned their place in this band and industry. Besides, we all love you too much to ever let you go, you’re stuck with us for a lifetime.” - Bae’s voice was low and quiet, as if the winds themselves learned how to whisper for Hyunjin’s sake.

The sobbing decreased with every sentence that left the older’s lips, only quiet sniffing left behind in their wake. A few trembles remained, but the boy was relaxed in the other’s arms, comfortably laying there, sheltered from the grim world.

“I love you. I’ll tell you again and again, no matter how many times I need to.” - the words felt immovable, firmly settling onto Hyunjin’s form, along with the small kiss that Bae left on the crown of his head.

They sat there for a while, none of them knowing, nor caring how much time had passed. Both were content in their position, lazily drinking in the other’s presence as only soft humming could be heard in the peaceful silence.

Everything would be fine.

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alphawolfstabs · 7 months

Text

Wanting to breathe, waiting to drown

[2210 words!!]

Religious trauma scream au with stuilly. Billy has a very Christian mother, his dads a dick, he’s trying to learn and grow but he can’t. Stu is an atheist satanist, meaning he does not believe in a god, other than himself.

[in satanism, you worship thine self. You also view baphomet as a more ‘positive and prideful’ energy, rather than a being.] [Stu is a hunter though, has a trophy room but it's not for satanism- lots of people think it is though]

[Reblogs appreciated but not forced <3]

Billy had always been perceived as the epitome of perfection throughout his entire life. To the outside world, his parents appeared to have a flawless, happy family, and the expectation was that their son would naturally follow suit.

However, beneath this facade of an ideal life, Billy struggled with the weight of his family's expectations. He was far from perfect. He conformed to his mother's strict ideas of how he should dress, while his father, even when physically present, often seemed emotionally absent, never truly engaged with his son. In many ways, it was as if he were absent from Billy's life.

Everything Billy did was, in some way, shaped by his mother's desires and expectations. He accompanied her to church faithfully and performed every task with the aim of pleasing her. His life was a constant effort to meet her standards, and everything he did was solely for her approval.

As Billy grew older, he couldn't help but overhear more and more of the conversations between his parents. When he was 14 years old, a gay couple moved into a nearby house, and they were unabashedly proud of their identity. To his parents, this was a cause for disdain. In the privacy of their home, and even to others, they ridiculed the new neighbors for their sexual orientation.

The negative attitudes expressed by his parents left a profound impact on Billy. He absorbed their beliefs that being gay was unacceptable, something to be scorned, and that the only acceptable path was to be heterosexual. These beliefs, which were instilled in him by his mother and reinforced by his family environment, shaped his perspective on sexuality and identity as he grew older.

At the outset of Junior high, Billy struck up a friendship with a fellow student named Stuart, a tall and slender boy who possessed both intelligence and a great sense of humor. Although Stu had a knack for occasionally being slightly irritating, Billy quickly learned to overlook these quirks because of the genuine connection they shared.

Billy affectionately dubbed him "Stu" because, in his enthusiasm, he often struggled with pronouncing "Stuart" consistently. "Stu" became the preferred moniker between them, and it stuck. The two of them became inseparable at school, whether it was sharing desks, playing outside, or simply being seen together around the campus.

With Stu, Billy found an eccentric friend who embraced his unique qualities and idiosyncrasies. Stu had no issue with Billy's pre-meal rituals or the frequent references to the Bible that peppered their conversations. He allowed Billy to be himself without judgment, and this level of acceptance was something that made their friendship truly special. For Billy, having a friend who not only accepted but celebrated his individuality was a comforting and refreshing experience.

As they matured, Stu occasionally made remarks that caused Billy to question the sustainability of their friendship. Such a moment arose during their freshman year of high school when Stuart kept talking about a fellow student, a jock named Steve Orth, who happened to be in Stuart's gym class.

Stu's comments varied in tone and content, from crude observations to downright perplexing statements. One day, he remarked, "-I mean- It's just insane. We're freshmen! He shouldn't have a package that size."

Billy almost choked on his water, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he blurted out.

Stu looked back at him with a mischievous grin. "What?"

"You looked down.. there..? That's like.. Not good? Dude, you sinned!" Billy exclaimed, his shock palpable.

Stu laughed and shook his head, seemingly unfazed. "Pretty sure it's only sinful if I touch."

Billy's brain seemed to short-circuit at this response. "What. Would you? Stu- That's gay. Don't be gay," he blurted out, a mixture of confusion and concern in his voice.

Stu continued to laugh, dismissing the topic without any further comment, leaving Billy in a state of bewilderment as he grappled with his friend's statements.

For a few years, Stu didn't bring up any topics of that nature. However, it all changed during their Junior year when a new member joined their group, Randy Meeks. Randy was an odd character, even more irritating than Stu, but Billy tolerated him for the sake of his friendship with Stu.

On one occasion, they gathered around the fountain, already engaged in a lively conversation. "All I'm saying is, I'm pretty sure he's gay," Stuart declared, taking a seat beside Billy.

"What?" Billy looked up from his book, perplexed by the discussion.

"Stu thinks Michael Myers is gay, and I'm just trying to prove to him that he's not," Randy chimed in, eager to join the debate.

Billy shook his head. "I don't think so."

Stuart threw his hands up in exasperation. "Come on!" he exclaimed, standing on the edge of the fountain. "Listen, he was in there since he was what—3? Dude had to lose his virginity at some point, especially to be a killer like that!"

Billy raised an eyebrow, pondering the matter. "Aren't there girl nurses?"

"Not that we saw," Randy added.

"Thank you! I rest my case, Michael was gay. Thank you," Stu concluded, settling back down.

Billy shook his head, and his nose wrinkled slightly. Stu noticed his hesitation and prodded, "What?"

"Huh?" Billy responded, momentarily lost in thought.

"Your nose—you do this thing when you want to say something but won't," Stu observed.

Billy sighed. "I know Michael was already sinful with murder, but he can't be gay. It ruins the movie for me if he is."

"Okay, Christian boy," Randy began with a roll of his eyes, "since you know so much—"

Stu quickly interrupted by giving Randy a light slap on the back of the head. "Enough," he stated firmly, before turning his attention back to Billy. "Believe what you want, just don't judge me for what I think."

Billy nodded, appreciating how Stu handled Randy's provocations and respecting his right to hold different opinions, even if it made him question his own views.

Senior year proved to be an especially challenging time for Billy. Gym class with Stu became a source of inner turmoil. Whenever they were in the locker room, Billy would change quickly and leave as soon as possible. However, there was something about seeing Stu in a state of post-exercise sweat, casually wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, revealing his well-defined abdomen, that stirred an unusual sensation in Billy. It wasn't disgust; it was something he couldn't quite understand.

As the year progressed, Stu became more open about his interests, particularly in the context of discussing someone he found appealing. To Billy's dismay, most of the time, it wasn't about women.

Billy struggled to come to terms with these feelings. He no longer saw them as sinful but instead grappled with questions like, "Does he ever say stuff like that about me?" The thought of his best male friend talking about him in that manner made him feel queasy. It seemed too 'gay' for comfort, and he was unsure how to navigate this new emotional terrain.

Billy refrained from discussing these thoughts with his parents, fearing their reaction, and he never prayed for these feelings to disappear because deep down, he didn't think they could be 'fixed.' He felt trapped, unable to reconcile his emotions with the beliefs he had grown up with.

Then, during one of his visits to Stu's house, Billy stumbled upon something that would further disrupt his emotional balance.

Billy's curiosity was piqued as he picked up a book with a rather unexpected title, "The Satanic Bible." He couldn't believe what he was seeing; it seemed impossible.

Stu, sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, glanced at the book and shrugged. "You have your Bible, I have mine," he replied nonchalantly.

Billy's eyes widened in disbelief. "You worship Satan, and you think that's okay?"

Stu burst into laughter and shook his head. "Jesus, man, no." He sat up and motioned for Billy to join him. "Sit down, and I'll explain."

Billy hesitantly took a seat, placing the book in Stu's lap. "Satanism isn't about worshipping Satan. It's about worshipping yourself in a way. You view Satan or the devil or whatever as an energy, something prideful, something positive."

Confusion furrowed Billy's brows, and he struggled to grasp this new perspective.

Stu smiled patiently. "I don't believe in Satan, or God, or an afterlife. I exist for myself."

"But… you're a Satanist?" Billy asked, still unable to reconcile these ideas.

Stu nodded calmly. "Satan's bad in the context of traditional religion, but it's not the same thing in Satanism. It's not about evil; it's about embracing yourself, your desires, and your individuality."

Billy blinked, trying to process this new perspective. "But… didn't he, like, kill a bunch of people?"

Stu nodded. "In traditional religious context, yes. But it was only ten people. If you think about it, God, on the other hand, was responsible for killing over 20,000 people. Who's actually bad in that context?"

Billy huffed, still struggling to fully grasp the concept. "I don't get it," he admitted, his confusion evident.

Stu smiled softly and inched closer. Their hands gently intertwined, fingers entangled, and as Billy stared at their linked hands, he felt a peculiar mix of emotions. He knew he should move away, that this closeness wasn't "normal" in his belief system, but he didn't want to pull away.

"In your religion, you're told to follow one person's guidance, to do and say things because that's what this one figure wants you to do," Stu began, speaking gently. "In my 'religion,' I do what I want to do, for me. And, just so you know, I don't sacrifice animals. I hunt and keep trophies, but most hunters do that. In my belief system, we're actually told to respect all living things, all of them."

Billy nodded slowly, finding this aspect of Stu's beliefs easier to understand.

Stu continued, "In your faith, if someone hurts you, what do you do?"

"Forgive them," Billy replied.

Stu challenged him, "Why? What if they do something terrible to you? Think about what happened in 'Black Christmas,' the guy's sister. What if this person does that to you?"

Billy had to pause and think about it. After a moment, he shrugged. "My mother says we always forgive."

Stu shared a different perspective, "You want to know what they say about that in my belief system?"

Billy nodded with interest.

"We don't forgive for that. Plus, if interest is not reciprocated, you back off instantly."

Billy pondered this, and a realization dawned upon him. "That's… actually better. Should I say that?"

Stu looked at him with a sweet smile. "You can say that. I'm not going to judge." The warmth in Stu's eyes made Billy's heart race, and he felt a mixture of emotions he hadn't experienced before.

"Do your parents know?" Billy asked, his gaze earnest as he looked at Stu.

Stu let out a soft snort. "I'm lucky if they even know my age, Billy."

Billy's expression fell with understanding. "Oh, yeah. That's right. Sorry."

"It's okay," Stu reassured him, gently running his fingers through Billy's hair. "Do you want to know about the sexuality aspect as well?"

Billy nodded slightly, his curiosity piqued, though he wasn't entirely sure if he'd like the answer.

Stu continued, "In Satanism, you embrace all aspects of yourself, and if you desire someone, that's okay. No matter what that makes you. It means being gay is okay."

The way Stu conveyed this message felt like he was trying to convince Billy, as if he was seeing deep into him, understanding the inner turmoil. Billy couldn't help but consider the possibility. Maybe this was precisely what he needed, someone who understood him.

Billy exhaled softly and asked hesitantly, "So… are you gay?"

Stu smiled warmly. "I'm not actually. I like men, but I also like women. Whatever that's called, that's me."

Billy simply nodded, absorbing this information.

Stu pulled Billy into something akin to a hug, and Billy allowed himself to melt into the embrace. As he rested against Stu, he couldn't help but think of his friend as someone who was truly free—free from the constraints of trying to please someone else, free to be himself.

He yearned for that kind of freedom but was held back by the ever-present specter of his mother's expectations. What would she say if he dared to voice these thoughts aloud? Even now, he questioned whether all of this was sinful.

A feeling of tension and constriction had wrapped around Billy like a coil of barbed wire, as if someone were perpetually tightening it. It might have been the thought of his mother, or perhaps it was the weight of his faith, but he couldn't be certain. All he knew was that he longed to break free from this suffocating grip.

Sitting in Stu's embrace, he felt that constricting wire begin to loosen. It wasn't choking him now; instead, he felt like someone had truly seen him, spoken to him with genuine understanding. In Stu's acceptance, he found a reprieve from the turmoil that had plagued him for so long, and for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier.

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lost-between-letters · 2 years

Text

Date Out

Pairing: Gabriel X Reader (she/her)

Requested by: anon

Written for: my 300 follower celebration

Word Count: 602

Summary: a sweet moment of Gabriel being in love with you.

A/N: yes the title is supposed to be a spin on time-out, no I refuse to apologize for the bad joke. Have fun reading!

Gabriel had watched the very creation of the world. Watched Dad plant the first flowers, picked out the colour for the beaches during sunrise and created the very smell of a wet forest in summer.

And still, when Y/N threw her head back in true joy - for once her laughter not buried behind her hands - Gabriel was mesmerized. It was rare to see her so carefree these days - the end of the world took a toll on everyone, yes, even the only archangel in hiding.

But what was unacceptable was that Y/N hadn't been on a date in forever. So Gabriel had hatched a plan, got Sam and Dean involved against some heavenly favours and freed his favourite hunter of her usual duties (and a group of demons, but that wasn't the point). It had to have its perks to date him, right?

Even if she almost never accepted Gabriel's attempts at romance or making her life easier. Damn humans and their pride and misplaced sense of self fulfillment in getting your hands dirty.

Right now, that didn't matter.

What mattered was that Y/N was finally laughing at one of his more stupider jokes and was eating the food they had cooked together.

"You're glowing brighter than the stars."

Y/N stopped in her tracks, an adorable perplexed expression on her face.

Wait, did he just say that out loud? Apparently.

So Gabriel rolled with it. He leaned over the kitchen island and planted a kiss on her chin. "Sweetcheeks, close that pretty mouth or the flies may get some ideas."

"You're joking," Y/N chuckled though her face was bright red and her voice wavered subtly.

Yeah no. Gabriel looked up at the ceiling and threw his hands up dramatically. "How dare you accuse me of such foolery! I'd never lie in such serious matters."

Aaand that was the wrong approach. Her lips were still stretched in a smile but her eyes flickered briefly with hurt.

Immediately, he dropped the farce and now fully rounded the table to get to Y/N's side, not caring about the food he might be splattering on the ground.

"Oh no, we're not doing that."

Y/N watched him with confusion all over her face (she seemed to be watching him like that pretty often - Gabriel didn't know why), her fingers drumming on the table. "What?"

"You thinking I'm not serious and will inevitably start spiralling, obviously," Gabriel said and threw his arm around her shoulders. She huffed but didn't stop him. A good sign that he took as encouragement to keep talking, "so yes, you are shining brighter than the stars and as someone who witnessed the making of them, you can trust my judgement."

For a moment, Y/N was so silent Gabriel feared that he accidentally stopped time again. Then, when the initial panic really set in, she punched him. Hard.

"Ouch?!" He rubbed his shoulder, rather taken off guard than actually hurt, "what was that for?"

Y/N punched him again. In the same place. But the smile was back and more genuine than ever so Gabriel could live with the assault. "Stop. Complimenting. Me!"

"Why?"

"You can't just throw those things at me and actually mean them!" She complained and - oh. She was blushing.

Someone liked praise. A lot. Gabriel filed that information away for later.

But first he had to kiss the shit out of Y/N. "I'm so sorry my love. Can I make it up to you?"

"You better," she pulled him in by the collar of his shirt which he followed oh so willingly.

Oh yeah, Gabriel had chosen the right one.

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#gabriel x you #gabriel x reader #gabriel supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #fluff

265 notes · View notes

tagedeszorns · 5 months

Note

Upon leaving his chamber, Saqqara discovered a parcel waiting for him on the floor. Intrigued, the diabolist paused briefly before deciding to open it. As he did, a glint of steel caught his eye, causing him to withdraw his hand in surprise. A slight wound on his hand prompted him to examine the contents of the parcel further. Inside, he found a letter bearing a chilling message.

"Greetings, wayward son. Or perhaps I should say, wayward brother? It appears you have found solace in another's embrace, haven't you? But now, it is time for you to fulfill your destined sacred duty. This blade, stained with your blood, shall never know peace. Ah, but I misspoke. It will find peace once it has taken the life of the one who has done the most good for you. Or perhaps the one you love above all others. Or even yourself."

(wrong blog to ask, but I'll just reblog it with the Consortium)

The diabolist drops the letter, his fingers immediately reaching for one of the smaller bottles on one of his belts, carefully avoiding getting his blood on the seals. As he loosens the cork, he whispers spells of binding that cause flakes of ash to fall from his blacking lips. A colourless thread of smoke snakes out of the bottle, encircling the blade of the long dagger. Where the smoke touches the strangely archaic-looking surface, it hardens and a low, angry hiss can be heard.

Saqqara leans back. Stares at his hand. Wipes the ash from his lips and then stands up.

"An athame?!" Arrian didn't intend to shout, but the word ends up at a considerable volume. Fabius gives him a chastising look and clicks his tongue. Reaches for the hilt of the dagger. "Interesting. I don't remember ever having one of these in my hand."

Saqqara nods, exhausted. "They're not necessarily widely used, as there are easier ways to kill someone with the help of the gods. This one is a symbol."

"Erebus?" asks the Chief Apothecary, tilting his head. As much as he despises anything to do with the mumbo-jumbo of self-proclaimed gods, he knows full well that it represents a real threat. Especially in the hands of a gifted politician like the Dark Apostle.

Another nod from his diabolist. "I can't think of anyone else with such a long memory."

An arm of the chirurgeon with a microscope attachment approaches the athame. Fabius gives in to his curiosity. "Well, I'm on the safe side this time, aren't I? I've never done you any good on purpose." He smiles narrowly. "Even if I would be the easiest way out. Though I'd prefer not to sacrifice a body still that fresh and healthy, just to spite Erebus."

"Not really." Arrian points to a passage in the letter. "Fulfilling Saqqara's original mission is also a way to get the Athame away from him. And for that you are the target."

Fabius bares his teeth. "Afraid you'll be the one who dies?" But then he waves it off before Arrian can protest. "No. All this is unacceptable. I don't like being threatened. And that extends to my employees as well." - "Technically, Saqqara is more like Erebus' employee." - "Come now, details. I don't see that Lorgar's First Chaplain has made any improvements to Saqqara!" - "You riddled him with explosives!" - "Improvements."

With a barely audible sigh, Arrian gives up on this fruitless discussion. He looks at Saqqara, who is still staring at the dagger as if hypnotised, running his finger over the wound on his hand, which doesn't really want to close and looks strangely unreal.

Fabius straightens up. The Chirurgeon busily folds himself around his shoulders into a very aggressive position. The Chief Apothecary waves a servoskull over with a curt motion and begins to dictate.

"To whoever of the Dark Council of the Word Bearers is interested in my diabolist! I do not appreciate members of the Consortium being threatened, as I apparently have not made clear enough in the past. My mistake, sorry. So let me rephrase, hopefully without room for interpretation: Saqqara is mine. And anyone who would like to discuss this is cordially invited to a meeting on neutral ground. Yours sincerely, Lieutenant Commander Fabius, Chief Apothecary of the Emperor's Children."

He makes a waving gesture. "Send."

Arrian whistles through his teeth. "You really don't like 'em, huh?"

Fabius smiles humourlessly.

#warhammer #emperor's children #Fabius Bile #the Consortium #Word Bearers #Ask Post #Roleplay

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batwynn · 3 months

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wait what is going on in the ofmd fandom? it's been constant harassment both pro and anti and i honestly just have no clue what's going on 😭 i just casually got into a new show because "haha merman" and now i'm getting unfollowed and blocked by long time mutuals and getting kinds of hateful accusations in my mail for reblogging literally one post of the merman scene :/

Oh anon I… I have no idea what’s going on?? 😭 To be honest I haven’t seen any thing like this so far, but I’m really sorry folks are doing this to you. Is this happening to any others that you know of, or does it seem like someone(s) targeting you personally? Because this sure is some Behavior.

I did want to add that someone did messaged me to explain some of the stuff going on when you (or another anon?) previously messaged me about OF MD tensions with a bit of info about Waititi and the signing of a pro-Israel letter back in October, I think? I’m not sure if that has something to do with it or not because, again, I haven’t seen any of this so far and I don’t know what folks are saying to you. But either way, this behavior towards you is unacceptable, and there’s no reason for people to behave this way.

#nice anon #harassed anon #I’m really sorry anon #I don’t know what is going on #the most I’ve seen so far is people calling the writhed Dad/Daddy #and others in the comments being super uncomfortable with that #that’s about it for drama in the fandom that I’ve seen #anyway this sucks and I’m sorry people are treating you like this #Batwynn talks #why did fucking autocorrect change writer to writhed #I want to die

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mrfancyfoot · 4 months

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Raphael x Evie (f!"human"OC) | Rating: E/varied

Chapter 3: 'Jingle Bells' of Prosody is now live on AO3! :D

Summary: Raphael’s Boots of Brilliance have the flavor text: “Tiny bells are sewn into the boots’ cuffs. They jingle subtly with every step.”

I am also now accepting requests for Prosody: please see this post for more info.

Thank-you so much for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging/etc etc!! <3

Chapter Rating: T / SFW Warnings: (Mostly) non-graphic discussion of removing an eye; Pardon Evie's info-dumping

Evie’s ears caught on a curious sound over his words, twitching every time she heard the barely perceptible interruptions that now rang thunderous. Her eyes scanned down his clothing as her ears honed in on where it was coming from.

The shoes.

Her head canted.

The feet stopped their slow pacing. “Is something the matter? …Evie.”

Her eyes shot back up to his, shaken from the fixation she’d found herself in. “Hm?”

His shoulders rose and fell with his sigh, his mouth pinching into the start of a scowl. Raphael strolled towards her, the softest of jingling accompanying each step. “I find the newly sprouted ears suit you. They complete the picture of a curious vixen. Unlike all those pretty little ceremorphosis symptoms - sundering skin, dissolving guts… You’d best pay attention, fox. One might say you’re a paragon of luck, yet as the clock ticks, it will run out. And here I’ll be waiting with my generous offer of salvation.”

“Bells,” she said. “The…bells are distracting.”

He looked like he wanted to say something but held his tongue, instead plastering on a smile and asking, “Have you sufficiently considered my offer?”

Evie rolled her shoulders in a shrug and rocked back on her heels. “I suppose. I wasn’t expecting to be brought here or I’d have brought my copy.”

Raphael’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes brightened in surprise and his smile turned from one of performance to genuine excitement, prior grievances seemingly forgotten. “No need to worry, I have one all prepared.” With a snap of his fingers, one appeared before them.

Frowning, she gave it a dismissive wave and set her hands on her hips determinedly with a huff. “Like I’m going to remember all the red-lining I did. That was awful, forcing myself to read through it the other seventeen times.” She sighed, half wondering if it was even worth the effort to explain. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m rejecting it on the principle of unacceptable parameters. Poetry has no place in contract legalese and only serves to provide you with smokescreens and loopholes to exploit,” she criticized with a shake of her head. “Properly define your terms and supply a more suitable exchange and I may reconsider.”

“I don’t think you fully appreciate the direness of your situation. You’re hardly in any place to be making negotiations,” the cambion sneered.

The direction of this conversation combined with things he’d said in the past confirmed something that had been nagging her. “See, this is how I know you - or one of yours - have been in my companions’ minds…but haven’t been in mine. And I hardly believe it’s because y’all haven’t tried. You’re projecting them onto me with the presumption that we’re at least similar if not the same. I’m not desperate.” She figured he was at least spying on them somehow.

“Oh? Are you looking forward to growing tentacles and losing your mind to the oblivion of being an illithid slave for the rest of your days?” he asked mockingly, unhappy at being called out and turned down again. She noted that he said nothing about her accusation of spying into their minds.

“No. I don’t think it will get to that point,” she said, maybe too flippantly.

Raphael was unenthused and clearly skeptical of her optimism. “An awfully intrepid belief. Are your companions aware that you don’t share their urgency?”

“We are still acting with a sense of urgency. I’m simply not clouded by it,” she tried to reason. “However, I would never block anyone else from going to you should they decide that’s the best choice for them.” That didn’t seem to be swaying him any.�� “Unless…that’s not good enough? For some reason, you want mine specifically.” Evie crossed her arms, feeling an uncomfortable confusion trying to take root in her mind. She tamped it down, telling herself she had to remain keen right now.

His bright eyes stared into her for several long seconds, as though weighing his words. Could he actually see her soul? “ Your soul, dear fox,” he pointed at her with a clawed finger, “carries unique qualities that devils find attractive. And though you may not see yourself as the Leader- the Hero of Baldur’s Gate - yet - others most certainly will. It is a covetous thing to own the contract of one who has played such a part.” This wasn’t the first time that he had referred to her with that title and it wasn’t one that she was comfortable with, as he well knew from their prior talks.

He had assigned her a role that he expected her to play in order to, essentially, load her soul’s CV with the achievements he desired to make it extra…whatever devils valued. ‘Heroic’ seemed like a theme, so maybe there was a corruption component? This wasn’t something she was warned about in Sunday school.

If they were successful, he wasn’t going to stop pursuing her soul.

Undeterred, she confidently replied, “Well, unfortunately for you, I would rather pop my own eye and yank out the parasite myself before signing away my soul.” Eternal damnation didn’t exactly sound better than simply dying. Though her worry now was that he might try to manifest a scenario in which she would have to sign her soul away to him. The tadpole was looking like it was just an object of current convenience for him.

If he wanted her soul, she at least wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

Raphael openly rolled his eyes. “You truly believe you can be rid of it that way?”

Evie held her fingers up in a pinching gesture. “Well, a bard, a goblin, a hag, and an illithid have all suggested doing such, so far, which tells me that there may be the barest of slivers of merit to it.” She’d be the first to say that their methods were highly sus and not probable to come without their own consequences - it was simply yanking it out and most of them may not have put any thought into it beyond that. But she wasn’t them…and it might be more feasible than she initially thought. “The advantage I have is the modern-day knowledge of physiology and medicine. And probably far more finesse than any of that lot.” And Volo had a fake eye if not. She could rock a fake eye.

Astarion would make fun of her for being even more clumsy for the lack of depth perception, but people loooved eccentricity in business moguls!

And the way she was with her new claws, she was wont to take out her own eye at some point, anyway.

“Do extend an invitation to me whenever you decide to try to pluck your own eye from your skull,” he hissed sardonically. “I would like a front row seat.”

“I have a friend who can pop his own out on a whim. I don’t need to remove it entirely, just get around it and the optic nerve. And muscles. And thanks to the wonders of daytime - and late night television, I’ve at least actually seen it done before in a professional medical setting. That’s probably not the difficult part, though - relative. That would be not accidentally lobotomizing myself in the process. Buuut at least I wouldn’t feel that. Probably.”

The cambion before her was the picture of disgusted exasperation.

Unfortunately for him, that did not stop her rambling and info-dumping now that she was excited that she might actually be onto something.

Raphael was under no illusions that, upon summoning her to him tonight, she would actually acquiesce to signing over her soul right then. He did believe that he could slowly whittle away at her pesky sensibilities and plant the needed seeds that would lead her back to him once she hit the point of desperation.

It had never once occurred to him that he might unwittingly lead her to the thoroughly audacious conclusion that she could remove the illithid blight herself. Delusional.

Was it a bluff? The more he watched her, the more he doubted that it was.

His resistant heroine closed her eyes and touched a hand to her chin in thought while she audibly walked herself through the theoretical process in a far more knowledgeable manner than he could have anticipated. That knowledge was making her comfortable. The conviction was impressive, if foolhardy.

Her attention diverted, he watched as she continued to mumble to herself, and then something on the bookcase next to her caught her eye. She turned and stooped slightly, her words trailing off mid-sentence. Her head tilted to read the words along the spines of the books.

Though irritated that she had just…walked off from the conversation without being dismissed, he allowed her to peruse the room under his observance, to stumble her own way across a line that would land her within his claws. He could see her fighting the urge to touch. Perhaps a minor contract could be the catalyst for her soul.

She jerked back suddenly, eyes wide, and brought her fist down onto her palm. A classic gesture indicating a spark of thought. “Oh! I should ask Wyll about his eye!” she exclaimed to herself. Then she pointed to a golden fixture set upon a side table whereupon a handful of especially bright souls rested and addressed him as though she hadn’t been behaving as though she had forgotten about his presence, “What’s this?”

“That is a lamp,” he answered flatly, wondering if that knowledge would bring any alarm or disgust to her.

She gave a curious hum and walked on. Attention already on the next thing as her tail flicked blithely behind her.

The little fox was seemingly not ignorant to what he was, but she was decidedly without fear of him.

It couldn’t possibly be due to confidence in her own strength - she wasn’t and had none - but rather the belief or trust that he would not harm her. Like some soft little pet.

Overly familiar in her language and behavior.

Presented herself as though his equal.

The rules and etiquette by which she governed herself were most typically found among the working class. Not nobility by any stretch unless that class held very different traits and values in her locality. Yet highly educated. There were some…odd notions in there, however, but he was uncertain if they were a product unique to her or from whence she came.

At present, she had nothing to her name and no desire to return to her plane. A beautifully blank canvas. From what he had been able to discern, the pure novelty was what led her desire to stay. She was confident in her ability to thrive here and perhaps had the ambition to achieve that on her own. If she didn’t get herself killed first.

“Ah, you do have clocks!” she suddenly exclaimed and turned around to face him. The fox continued with an unprompted explanation, “You said ‘as the clock ticks’ earlier and part of my brain just caught up and threw it at me. I’ve been trying to figure out the general technological timeline of Faerûn but that’s really hard considering I’ve never been in a city, so far, and with talks with the others, I’ve learned some things are called different things here. I was looking for a clock but either you don’t have any or you subscribe to the casino theory of timekeeping. Or they look different.” She gestured to the room at large with her next words, “But if you - a noble - live like this, I think I have a better idea.”

Like…this.

“Elaborate.”

Her head fell to the side and her eyes drifted up as she collected the thoughts to distill into words that, for both their sakes, had best resolve the ire building within him to which she appeared oblivious. She held her hand up as though counting while she spoke, but quickly did away with that endeavor as she started pacing, her hands and face emphasizing her words with a new gusto, “You have hot, running water as indicated by your bath. But no electricity - though I think there’s a strong case for magic working as a sort-of substitute here and for some other use cases. Some of the things in Grymforge and the arcane tower were wholly novel to my companions, which tells me that technology may be unique to those locations and-or the prior occupiers. Books - printing press and even detailed, graphical covers!”

She stopped pacing abruptly and tapped her foot briefly before throwing her hands up in a sharp shrug. Frustration leached into her explanation, turning it into a rant, “But you use quills and no-one’s heard of flushing toilets! ‘Ice boxes’ are maintained by magic and not a chemical vacuum system or electricity. Air conditioning, heating - is also mostly magic but largely only by those capable of it. Which throws a bit of a wrench into trying to match things against the technological timeline of my world because we don’t have magic. Higher technology is definitely missing, though, or I think you’d probably have signs of it. Though also possibly not since I’m sensing a certain aesthetic and that kind of thing doesn’t always pair well for those who are…discerning.”

Oh, did the fox realise she was ranting? She had the sense to look contrite, but uncareful words before a devil were dangerous. Information was a currency in his world and she was offering up more and more with each successive summons.

She might have been lower born, yet it was a clear bet that, courtesy of her own plane’s advances, she was used to a standard of living even much of Faerûn’s nobility did not have. Her ‘every day’ was found in the very lap of luxury here. Was she prepared to face that reality? That she may never obtain that without a truly obscene amount of ambition? Of drive? Of connections? Of money? Of power?

While he presumed her to be conventionally attractive beneath the ratty, oversized clothing, she had made her features unique enough that she may get away with being someone’s spoiled pet - but would she be satisfied with that?

This he could use.

He rolled his shoulders and felt his mood lift. He stepped towards her and ignored how her eyes dropped to his boots again. “You seem to have a certain disdain for quills.”

Face souring, she spoke in a clipped tone, “I haven’t been the biggest fan of having to relearn how to write. They’re so inefficient! And messy. I swear, my handwriting isn’t anywhere as bad as they make it seem…” The first worry she had expressed in his presence…and it was about her handwriting.

Raphael grinned with a flourish of his hand. “Fear not, I shan’t care how your signature looks upon any of my contracts.”

She breathed a laugh at his humor and shook her head.

Time for her to return. “The night has grown long, little fox. We will speak again soon.”

Her hand rose in a wave. “This has been an eye-opening conversation,” she giggled as she disappeared swathed in his magic.

His jaw clenched. What an aggravating little thing.

#baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 raphael #bg3 Raphael #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 raphael fanfic #raphael x tav #Raphael x OC #Raphael #Plots & Prosody #mrfancyfoot

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gurugirl · 1 year

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I posted 3,937 times in 2022

That's 3,937 more posts than 2021!

750 posts created (19%)

3,187 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gurugirl

@swiftmendeshoran

@fkinavocado

I tagged 3,635 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#harry styles - 2,657 posts

#harry styles smut - 2,385 posts

#harry styles fanfic - 1,706 posts

#harry styles fic - 1,571 posts

#harry styles fanfiction - 1,327 posts

#harry styles writing - 1,127 posts

#harry styles one shot - 1,054 posts

#harry styles fan fiction - 745 posts

#dark!harry - 699 posts

#ask - 590 posts

Longest Tag: 111 characters

#dreea you're a fucking genius and i love these two with all my heart no matter how many bad decisions they make

My Top Posts in 2022:

Can we see a little moment of how ceo!h treats ✨his✨ girl after stealing from her "bf"

I think this might be a request about Gonna Make You Mine. In the story, Harry isn’t a ceo but he’s the big boss of a crime organization and your (now) ex boyfriend still works for him. 972 words

Warning: violence suggested/alluded to but mostly just fluff

To everyone who worked under Harry, he was mean, relentless, powerful, and not someone you wanted to fuck around with. He ran a tight ship. People didn’t say no to Harry, that’s why when Jake, your ex, understood Harry’s intentions with you, he so easily relented, not wanting to fight Harry or lose his job (Jake was quite the pussy after all).

But around you, Harry turned into a soft puppy. Though he was still quite pushy and confident when it came to day-to-day stuff with you, if he even had an inkling that you were mad or not happy he’d nearly be on his knees trying to right the wrong, to see you smile.

So, when you called Harry today while he was on a job he wasn’t able to answer the phone immediately, because he was in the middle of doing business. He saw your number appear on his phone screen while he was working a confession out of a snitch he’d tied to a chair in a warehouse.

Cursing under his breath when he realized it was you calling, he tried to speed up the job and pull the truth from the man once and for all so he could call you back before you got upset with him. You didn’t like to be kept waiting.

Unfortunately, the man wouldn’t budge and give up what he knew. Harry was growing increasingly impatient and he couldn’t just let one of his guys take over to do it. That wasn’t how Harry operated, lest he be seen like a man who couldn’t finish the job.

So after hours of more convincing tactics, the man finally gave away a vital piece of information and with that Harry bid his guys goodbye, giving them permission to do away with the man however they pleased. The hard part of the job was done.

He called you back immediately as he jogged to his black Mercedes G Wagon, getting in and driving off down the road. When you finally picked up he could hear it in your voice. You were pissed.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I got caught up on a job…”

You scoffed into the phone and spoke over him, “For four fucking hours, Harry?! You couldn’t like, take a break and call me back? I can’t handle not knowing if you’re okay or not. Are you coming home?”

You knew what Harry did for a living. You knew how dangerous the job was and you hated it. Four hours of no contact was unacceptable to you.

Harry tried to calm you and told you he was on his way home. He stopped first to get flowers for you and then he picked out your favorite gelato and got two pints to bring back home.

He rushed up the long driveway and jumped out of his vehicle with your gelato and flowers in hand. He walked into the home and it was quiet. You weren’t waiting for him at the door like you normally would be, but he knew you were upset. He sat the gelato in the kitchen and walked upstairs to the master suite to find you sitting in the soft chair next to the window reading.

He walked across the room to you with the beautiful bouquet in hand and knelt down in front of you. You finally graced him with a glance.

Harry put the flowers next to you on the table and buried his face into the top of your lap.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I never want to disappoint you or make you mad.” Harry nuzzled in further as you rolled your eyes and the anger you felt melted away completely at his sweet gesture. You put your hand in his hair at the back of his head and smiled.

“I don’t like not knowing if you’re okay or not, Harry. I was worried.”

Harry lifted his head to look up at you, “I know, baby. Please forgive me. I would have called you back right away if I could have. Please…” his hands drew up your calves and over your knees then smoothed onto your outer thighs as he kept his eyes on yours.

You sighed. It was hard to stay mad at the man. He always knew exactly what to do to make you soft for him.

“I know, Harry. It’s just so hard sometimes.”

Harry pushed your thighs apart and scooted himself in between them, his knees still on the floor, and leaned in to you, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face into your chest.

“I don’t want you to think being with me is hard. I’m so scared you’re going to get fed up and leave me one day.” Harry speaks softly.

You put your hands into his hair and kiss the top of his head, “I’m not going to leave you, Harry. I promise. It’s you leaving me, never coming back from a dangerous job, that I’m more worried about.”

Harry hung on tightly to you as you continued brushing your fingers through his hair and lightly scratched at his scalp in soothing strokes.

Finally you patted his back, “Come on, Harry. Let’s go put these flowers in a vase.”

Harry looked up at you with a handsome smile and stood, helping you up out of your chair, “Got you your favorite gelato as well. S’in the kitchen.”

You laughed and shook your head, Harry was always working to butter you up any time he did something that upset you, “You don’t have to buy me snacks and flowers and gifts every time you think I’m mad at you, Harry. You’re all I want.”

Harry pulled you into his arms and looked down at you, his beautiful girl, “You have me, baby. I’m all yours.”

337 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Tales From the Modern Incubus Part II

Summary: The first time you see Harry is while you're at church and you're completely smitten with him at first sight, but what will your boyfriend think about the tall, tattooed man who is suddenly so interested in you?

A/N: Now that you (the reader) have been introduced to the story there will a slight perspective change and you'll note that in Part I you were referred to as she and her - but now going forward you will be referred to as you and y/n. This one is a bit more tame than what's to come but it's important to the story. Please read all warnings listed in the TFMI masterlist before continuing - this is dark!harry content and it's not for everyone. There could be triggering topics so please consider that before reading.

Warning: dark!harry, Harry making fun of Christianity, Harry making fun of a worship band, Harry making fun of the Sunday teaching, vulgar inner thoughts by Harry

Part I*

Part II

The following morning you wake earlier than Harry assumed you would. Your cell phone chiming with John Meyers’s Clarity as your alarm. Harry moves himself from under the bed into the open, still unseen to your eyes and stands over you. You are stretching sweetly with the smallest squeak at the very end before you reach for your phone and turn off the music.

Harry really loves your morning scent. You’ve been snuggling into your sheets and blankets, and a pillow full of your hair and skin cells so the aroma is extra you. Plus you didn’t wash yourself after masturbating, other than some tissues to wipe up, and all the remnants of your dried arousal are still lingering in the air, permeating from between your legs.

His gifted olfactory sense is something he both loves and loathes. Right now, he loves it. You smell so good, so delectable. When you finally stand up from the bed he follows you closely and watches everything you do. Most of your morning tasks include finding a cute outfit, showering and shaving (which of course he masturbated watching your wet, supple body, couldn’t be helped), putting on more makeup than Harry thinks is necessary, and doing your hair.

Harry watched everything you did like a true creepy stalker. He was enjoying the little noises you’d make when you had an idea or began murmuring to yourself. He found it endearing when you tried on two dresses twice each and then couldn’t decide on which shoes you wanted to wear. He knew it was Sunday morning and based on the way you were reading your Bible and praying the night before he could bet you and your family were getting ready for church.

He was a little surprised that you had selected the shorter dress, and he didn’t miss the way you took extra care when fixing your makeup and hair. You looked quite appetizing. Harry wanted to nibble on the back of your thighs and your hips so badly it made his teeth hurt. But if he wanted a bite, that meant others would too and he wondered if that was why you chose your outfit and fussed so long with your hair. Maybe you were trying to impress someone. Or he supposes it could be as simple as you just preferring the shorter dress. But you? A good Christian girl dressing this way? Nah… you were looking for some kind of attention. You wanted to look cute. This was deliberate.

If there’s anything Harry is good at (and he’s good at a lot of things) it’s human behavior. Not only can he smell your mood he can tell a lot by just a few minutes of watching your body language. And he knows you’re trying to look extra cute.

He follows you as you head into the living room and you greet your parents good morning. Harry is immediately aware of how self-assured your dad is and how he’s dressed very sharply. He’s pacing around and looking at a notepad and Harry notes that it’s quite early for a normal family to be heading to church so now he’s suspicious of your dad and what’s really going on here. He takes a peek at what’s on the notepad and it's a fucking sermon.

Your dad is a pastor. You’re a pastor’s daughter. Harry laughs to himself. Of course, he selects a pastor’s daughter for his mistress. This will be an entertaining courtship.

He follows your family to the church (he can travel like the wind, being a fallen angel and all) and the parking lot is empty. You and your family are the first to arrive.

Harry keeps close to you but now he has a plan to appear to you when some of the congregation arrive. He’ll pretend to be new to town and he’ll wear something he thinks you’ll like. He has a feeling you’ll find him very attractive.

You sit quietly in one of the rooms by yourself, looking through your phone. Harry looks over your shoulder to see what it is that you are using to keep yourself entertained. Instagram (you have a lot of notifications that you ignore), YouTube, Twitter… Then you get a text message, and he reads it when you open it up.

It’s from MIG.

See you soon, babe!

He doesn’t know who MIG is but he doesn’t like that the photo attached to his contacts appears to be male and he just called you babe. Perhaps this is why you dressed cute. For MIG.

Harry sniffs into your hair and basically hovers over you until you get up to leave the room you were sat in, breaking Harry’s spell of breathing you in. He could eat you up, you smell so good.

As the church building is starting to fill with other people you are kind and say your hellos to everyone but then there’s a tall young fellow who you walk to in haste and wrap your arms around his middle.

“Hey! Wanna go sit?” You speak and gesture toward the large main room where your dad will be preaching.

Harry watches with a scowl as you and this guy, probably MIG, hold hands and walk into the room together and find a spot to sit toward the front. Harry decides now is a good time to get himself ready to appear. He takes note of the rest of the churchgoers and sees that most of the humans are casual but some are dressed nice. He decides to go with something nice and that will draw your attention, because he’s going to get your attention. He covers his bottom half in dark blue, well fitted trousers, that really show off how fit he is, thick, muscular thighs, a well-toned bum, long legs, with black leather boots on his feet. His top half has a white button-up shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone to show off his tattoos (he thinks you’ll like that), sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms adorned with more tattoos, and he tops it all off with a white gold cross necklace that dangles over his pecs. He runs his fingers through his hair for good measure and then sits directly in front of you and MIG. He puts an arm out along the bench behind him and sits casually with a leg draped over his knee. He looks around the room and he’s already got eyes on him.

He’s quite the specimen really. Tall, fit and broad, dark thick curls in a nice neat quaff that always comes out just right, perfectly chiseled and symmetric facial features, a prominent nose that sits on his face and just adds to how attractive he is. Harry didn’t want to dress too wildly, his tastes are a little more eccentric than he’s dressed now but he doesn’t want to get the wrong kind of attention. Some people think he’s gay based on his attire – which doesn’t bother him because he is a little gay, sure, but in a crowd like this? Probably not wise. So he’s plays it safe with his choice of covering.

Two young women sit to Harry’s left and one of them leans over to shake his hand, “I’m Sarah. Is this your first time here?” Sarah’s cute. Big blue eyes, freckles, strawberry blond hair. If he hadn’t become so obsessed with you he might work on Sarah for a quick lay tonight.

“M’Harry,” he shakes Sarah’s hand, “and yes. This is my first time. New in town.” Harry gives Sarah a dazzling smile and he can hear her heart rate increase and she releases a scent that indicates she’s excited by him. Typical.

“You sound like you’re new in town. Where are you from, Harry?” She’s referring to his accent. Harry’s got a strange accent. He spent many many years in Europe and picked up a good British accent for when he’s speaking English (he can speak any language spoken to him - same for all other angels and demons as well) but it’s lined with some other inflections that create a mishmash of what most humans think of as just British. And with his deep, raspy tone it really just rounds off his total appeal.

“The UK, originally. I’ve traveled a bit, though.” He lies. Sort of. He’s not from the UK but he’s definitely traveled.

Sarah comments about this revelation but then the other girl leans over and reaches out a hand to introduce herself. She calls herself Amanda and Harry greets her just as warmly as he did Sarah. Amanda is also excited by Harry’s presence. Harry laughs to himself. These church girls have no idea, and Harry enjoys the irony.

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439 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

Mixed Signals*

Summary: You and Harry are best friends and there's no way he'd ever like you as more. Right?

A/n: best friends to lovers & mutual pining goodness 9.5k words

Warning: Some angst, some fluff, and some smut

You’ve known one another since you were 12. Harry’s always been cute. Really cute. It was hard to ignore your crush some days but most of the time you had no problem teasing one another, making fun of the other, and both pretending to not like each other. It was complicated having feelings for your best friend.

Then as you got older you were convinced he liked you back, but he got a girlfriend during sophomore year of college and so that had to be wrong. He obviously wouldn't choose another girl to kiss and have sex with if he liked you. You were a built-in sure thing, yet he went with the other choice.

Today you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together. You split a funnel cake with powdery sugar, you rode a few rides together, held hands as you ran through the rain back to your car and now here you were, in your bedroom at your parent’s house. The storm was heavy and the rain was falling hard and fast. Your parents were asleep and so you and Harry decided he would stay the night. It felt a little awkward for him to stay over because he hadn’t since he started dating Birdie six months ago.

But he’d slept over and in your bed plenty of times before Birdie. Nothing ever really happened. Well, except for the one time.

6 months prior

You’d woken up when you felt Harry moving in a rhythm that didn’t match up with your sleepy brain, so you turned and reached out for him to stop moving but you pressed your hand right over the skin on his hard penis, which he was pumping in his palm. He had been masturbating and was being really quiet, not making much movement at first. But once it started feeling really good and his balls squeezed as he was just about to come, he was shaking the bed a bit with his faster, more meaningful pace and it caused you to wake.

You both gasped the moment your hand came into contact with his, quite sizable dick. You were shocked first of all that it was sitting right there, just out and bare and his hand was clenched around it but also because of the thickness of him. You hadn’t realized. You knew what this was. He’d been masturbating and you looked up into his eyes, not wanting to look away from his pretty erection.

Harry was looking at you, suspended in motion. He intended on not waking you. Originally he was going to get up and go to the bathroom but then after he rubbed over himself he thickened up so fast, he thought maybe it would only take a couple of minutes. He was so horny and getting up from the bed would mean he’d have to walk 30 feet, open and close doors, move his limbs, and then he’d be standing while he wanked in the bathroom. It was a lot of effort, all that. This would have been a quick pop and then he could wipe up with the tissues sitting on the bedside table next to him. He’d never even have to get up.

He should have used better judgment looking back on it now, with your pretty eyes on his and his hand wrapped around his dick. And he saw the way you looked at his cock. Your eyes widened, lips parted. You paused for a bit as you slowly moved your hand away. It was almost like you wanted to keep your fingers on his solid smooth shaft. Warm. Long. Twitching as he was just interrupted from his orgasm.

So when you smiled at him and moved your own fingers down your long t-shirt and slipped them into your knickers Harry released the breath he was holding. You rubbed over yourself, fingers hidden by the fabric over them, and Harry started up his movements again.

You watched as he jerked his cock in a cadence that was the stencil for your own movements.

“C…can I see? Too?” Harry asked as he moved his free hand up to the band of your panties, still pumping himself.

You nodded at him and stopped your fingers for a moment as you pulled your panties down to your thighs. Then you quickly got back to work.

The sharp inhale of breath from Harry when he saw your pussy for the first time was not missed by you.

You spread yourself a little as you rubbed your clit to allow maximum friction. You and Harry were both rubbing your genitalia, masturbating with panting breaths right next to each other. You knew you’d regret this later but your tired/horny brain didn’t mind too much at the moment. Seeing Harry’s fingers wrap around himself as he fucked into his hand was so hot. And your little wet pussy in his view, arousal being pushed around over your clit, slushy sounds coming from you, it was his end.

You both came quickly, your eyes on one another, the scene was lewd and naughty. Harry ejaculated over his torso and his face scrunched, mouth wide open, breathing hard with one deep groan into the room.

Just the look on his face had you coming. It burst hotly from your veins as you watched his orgasming expression and you whimpered and moaned and when Harry heard you coming he opened his eyes to see for himself. He didn’t want to miss it.

After you both cleaned yourselves with the tissues on the bedside table, all in silence, you laid back into your pillow and Harry pulled the sheets back over his body. And it was never brought up again.

But that was just once. Before his girlfriend came into the picture, well, before they were “official” anyway. Which is probably why it was never brought up. And now he and Birdie were together, well, certainly nothing would be happening.

You both got into bed, joking around like always as you clicked your tv on so you could watch something for a bit. Neither of you was tired yet, you’d both admitted.

Harry slid into the bed next to you. You had your back against the wall and sat with your legs pointed toward the tv on the opposite wall. You’d stuffed pillows and blankets all around, both cozied in. But Harry was close and you were very aware of his proximity. Even with all the blankets and pillows, he’d wiggled in right next to you and his bony knee was dug into your low thigh. Burning, sizzling your flesh, and shooting up your skin directly to your core. You were so attracted to him, and it was moments like these that you hated it. Because he definitely didn’t feel the heat of proximity, his heart didn’t pummel his ribs in his chest, his tummy didn’t send out butterflies into his groin and make him drip with arousal as it did you.

You bit your lip and tried to keep your attention on the tv, or at least you tried to feign interest. Because you couldn’t pay attention to anything but the person sitting next to you. His looming presence. He was leaning toward you, his arm nearly pressed into yours, but just an inch short. It made the hair on your skin raise. Your throat felt dry.

Pay attention to the tv.

Then Harry chuckled and you turned to look at him, "What?"

"You. What're so you stiff for? Look like you're uncomfortable or something. This show's not that good, Y/n."

You forced a smile and knew you were red in the face. Your hormones were going nuts. Any time you were around him lately they were. You couldn't help it. You tried stopping the way you were attracted to him, the way you felt about him beyond just the attraction, the way it stung that he'd never choose you. But ever since that night when you masturbated together, the view of his cock in his hand had been carved into your brain, a permanent fixture and you had a hard time not thinking of him in that way.

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547 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

Forgive Me, Father | Part 1

Summary: Harry is a priest with a dark secret but he's got a big heart and he's looking for someone special to share it with. When Y/n confesses her sins, he thinks she might just be the one.

A/n: Part 1 of 3 - this is 16k words. I haven't really written anything with this type of dom/sub play before - though this first part doesn't get too deep into it, you'll know it when you read it.

Warning: Dom/sub dynamics, mentions of religion and sin, floggings for pleasure and penance, mentions of sexual situations and masturbation, sexual tension, mentions of caging, punishment, cheating

| Read on Wattpad |

Harry was a holy man despite his particular desires. He became a priest relatively young but he took all the necessary steps; went to seminary for four years, studied theology and philosophy as an undergraduate, made his vows then became a man of the cloth. He was a deacon, his transitional role for just over a year in Manchester the first time he felt tempted by a beautiful young woman in the congregation. But he resisted. He knew the devil was trying him. But his holy side won out over his flesh.

He desired to act on his flesh, though. And he might have if he’d been given a moment alone with the young woman. He imagined what it would be like but it was easy to resist when he hadn’t really had a real opportunity. All his formative years had him at all-boys schools as well. His four years in seminary were spent amongst young men his age. It wasn’t until his fourth year at seminary that he realized he was even attracted to men. The realization was a difficult one for him at first, being a man of God, a Christian on the path to priesthood. It was troubling to him so he pushed his sexual desires down until they only manifested in his sleep with salacious dreams and waking up wet in his underwear.

When he finally became ordained and was given his own congregation he felt he’d made it at last. The road to get where he was took a long time. The diocese wouldn't take a man under 30 in many cases, so he found a place that would because he knew in his heart he was ready. There were no shortcuts to becoming a priest, a five-year-long journey at minimum. For many, the transitional period took a lot longer than it did for Harry. A year of transition as a deacon is the minimum and that’s all it took for Harry to be called by God to his own church.

Being a 27-year-old man with his own congregation in small-town Wisconsin felt daunting. Harry was not from the US and he’d never been to Wisconsin before arriving in the town. The parish was near the shores of Lake Michigan. It was quaint and quiet but it was home to nearly 100,000 people. Not so small that he'd be lacking for company.

Harry worked and lived in the same buildings for three years diligently. He was kind to his congregation, a good priest and leader, made friends with many of the people who were members, and always had a warm meal offered to him through an invite to come to the houses of families who attended his services.

He didn’t always take them up on the meals. Harry enjoyed being alone at the end of the day but most evenings he’d find himself at someone’s home eating a big dinner with people he usually considered family. On his 30th birthday, his congregation held a small surprise potluck for him after service one Sunday. He felt blessed to have such a wonderful group of followers. He truly loved them.

On a Friday evening, Mrs. Brockton had called Harry and invited him to dinner. Harry had a feeling deep down that he should say no. But he liked Mrs. Brockton. Maybe he liked her a little too much. He would never act on the carnal, it was in his vows to remain celibate, though the rules had been loosened somewhat over the years for priests, Harry was invested in the old way of doing things. God and his priesthood came first for him. The sin of lust led many to take a husband or a wife just for the sake of their flesh. Harry would not give his heart to anyone but God.

But part of that reasoning for going to the extreme with his vows was because of his unsavory desires. He never acted on them, but he fantasized and would have vivid dreams of the things he wished he could play out in real life. There was an aspect of denial of the flesh that he got off on as well. It made him feel superior in some ways; the continual denial of his lust and sin.

A man of thirty years, he was still a virgin, and happily. Proudly even. He also could count how many times in his life he'd masturbated when he became weak to his flesh. He rarely sinned in such a way but when he did it was always atoned for with a flog at his back and his chest.

Harry brought with him only his Bible when he arrived at Mr. and Mrs. Brockton's home. She told him not to bring any food or drink, but that she would have everything taken care of.

And she most certainly had everything taken care of. Down to the detail she conveniently forgot to mention, that Mr. Brockton was gone for a work trip in another city for the evening.

"I cannot stay Mrs. Brockton. I hope you do understand. We must at all times keep even the appearance of evil at bay. If others were to know I was here without Mr. Brockton they could get the wrong idea," he spoke as he clutched the Bible over his heart. The home smelled divine. She'd obviously been cooking up something wonderful and she clearly had taken the time to freshen up her appearance as well. Not that she needed it. Mrs. Brockton was a beautiful woman, even Harry could see that.

"Father Styles, please. Can we address one another casually? You can call me Natalie if you don't mind that I just call you Harry. And... look, I know I should have told you but I'm lonely and I need counsel tonight. As a friend. As someone I trust to not tell anyone my problems. George being gone tonight is the only time I'll have for this. I wanted this to be private."

Harry frowned. He didn't love it when his members called him by his first name, but it wasn't the end of the world. He'd always been warned about getting too close, too familiar. Friendly was good, but there was a line. However, he supposed just this once, and for Natalie, he could. She seemed to genuinely need him and his advice. So he relented and they sat in the living room while the dinner finished cooking in the oven.

“Fath… Harry,” Natalie said as she looked at Harry flustered, “I don’t know what to do about George. He keeps going away on these trips and I’m starting to wonder if there is something else going on.”

Harry listened to Natalie’s story. She had the feeling George was cheating on her but she had no proof. During dinner, Natalie set next to Harry and her demeanor changed. She was lighter and bubblier as the subject had shifted. Harry had given her some advice but he ultimately told Natalie that worrying over something without proof would take her eyes off God. That it did her soul no good to jump to conclusions. However, even as Harry said that he wondered himself about Mr. Brockton taking off on so many overnight trips.

After the plates were cleared and Natalie brought out a bottle of wine to share with Harry, they moved back into the living area and sat on the comfortable couch to continue their discussion. Harry had prayed with Natalie before they sipped their wine.

Natalie loved the way Harry's deep voice called to God when he spoke the prayer. The way his intense eyes would watch her as she spoke. His pink lips were kissable and his hair always looked so well-placed.

Harry was an attractive man. Many of the women in the congregation would gossip about how good-looking the priest was. Harry was tall, well-built, and gorgeous really. He was also smart and so well-behaved around all the women that it drove some of them crazy. Occasionally some would attempt to dress in a way that would attract him, and catch his eye, but it never worked. Harry was committed even if internally he was lusting.

But Mrs. Brockton, one time, had seen how Harry looked at her when she wore a particularly low-cut dress to Harry’s after he’d invited a small group over for prayer after Sunday mass. He would sometimes invite members of his congregation over for a drink and to pray after services. This wasn't too out of the ordinary.

After two glasses of wine, Harry was feeling a little loose, as he normally does under the influence. It hadn't been much wine, but he didn't need much as he usually refrained from drinking outside of these social settings. So a little was all it took.

This is when Mrs. Brockton noticed Harry's obvious gaze at her bosom. He even licked his lips and then looked down at his hands as he swallowed thickly. She saw it all. So she tested the waters and went to him before leaving with her husband.

"Will you send me off with a quick prayer, Father?" Her intentions were not pure, and Harry could feel it in the way she spoke, the way her eyes roamed his body, and the bite of her lip.

But he indulged her because denying her at that moment would raise more questions.

It was a fast little prayer. Mrs. Brockton grabbed Harry's hands in hers and as he prayed he felt her warm fingers gently move across the skin on his hands. It filled him with lust. Just the feel of her skin on his hand. When he opened his eyes, mid-prayer, a quick look, her breasts were in view again and they were delectable. Harry darted his gaze from her cleavage to her eyes and she was already looking at him with the smallest grin on her pretty face so Harry quickly shut his eyes and finished the prayer before sending everyone away.

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732 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Masterlist

POSTING SCHEDULE (updated every Sunday)

Searchable tags:

#firstpost - original post (chapter, one shot, blurb, ramblings, & sneak peek/promo) to filter out all my reblogs - as of November 8

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FIRST THINGS FIRST - update your settings to see 'mature' content if you'd like to read the smut written by yours truly. If you're under 18 and tumblr knows you are then sorry - you're out of luck babes - you shouldn't be reading my stuff anyway as per the 18+ warning in my bio.

I’ll take requests on nearly any trope or au, just send it in and I’ll try to make it happen. I also write commission pieces if you have something specific you’d like me to create for you.

It’s okay by me if you only spam like my shit. I would LOVE for you to reblog and comment but I understand not everyone wants their interactions made public - spam like all you want - but if you can reblog and give feedback - I love all your love.

* indicates smut (which is most of what i write)

✔️ indicates a completed series

FINALLY - All of my characters are made up and might be loosely based on my real life experiences and people I've met along the way, but all are fabricated and not meant to be of the likeness of anyone real (except Harry of course) 💕

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2,387 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #firstpost #gurugirl

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