đ//Biggest to smallest//Aged up characters//Talking about penis sizesâBECAUSEMYBRAINROTSAIDSO//
1//MAHITO
//(You fuckers donât want to admit it but itâs true)
//Do I even have to say anything? Shape shifting powers. Is there anything more to say?
//This mans can have a giant 22 incher if he wanted or even an octopus tentacle for you freaks.
//Oh sukuna thinks heâs fucking special with his two dicks- try it Mahito can have as many as he fucking wants
//Yaâll canât change my mind, no idea how this mans fits in his pants in the morning đŠâđż
2//RYOMEN SUKUNA
//alright I was just talking shit about this mans but that doesnât mean heâs not a monster.
//MONSTER COCKS- YES PURAL.
//14 inches in tall, 3.5 inches thick
//Times 2-
//We all know Sukuna has two dicks, you can try to deny it but- literally he got two of everything. .
//BREEDER BAWLS- AND MEATY VEINS-
//Sukunaâs dicks look like a beast tan and in a darkened color of his skin to the bottom and a hot pink tip. Veins run up and down pulsing. His black tattoos stripe the both of them by the base and to the tip.
//Doesnât know what the fuck shaving is and doesnât care about you shaving either- he prefers hair, itâs more natural to him.
//When he drops his robes you better getarunninâ.
3//GETOU SUGURU
//Down to the human side of this list
// 8 inches tall, 3.3 inches thick.
//(Yes Getou is bigger than Gojo-)
//A big dick for, a big sadistic, sweetheart.
//Heâs so patronizing of course heâd have a big dick.
//A soft darkened cream color, little to no veins showing and a nice pink tip that gets red when heâs hard.
//He still has his foreskin
//Doesnât shave. (To assert dominance)
//his dick is so thick, if it wasnât for his Buddhism robes his dick would bulge even when heâs softďżź.
//Heâd probably smile sweetly while he pounds into you with no remorse or sympathy for your tears.
4//GOJO SATURO
//Gojoâs in the top five
// 7.4 inches tall 2.8 inches thick.
//Getting out of fantasy land and coming back down to earth, meet Gojo who is WAY above average.
//Cocky and heâs got a big cock to back it up.
//Skinny talk dick, no foreskin, heâs milk white and a faded pink tip. Little to no veins but, some stick out.
//He shaves.
//He thinks his cock is perfect (Everyone is pissed that heâs right)
//His dick was crafted by the gods.
5//CHOSO
//Final top five spot goes to Choso-
// 7 inches tall, 2.3 inches thick.
//Chosoâs pretty plain. He doesnât actually know he has a big dick you have to tell him for him to understand.
//Pale white, his veins stick out red and his dick is slightly curved at an angle. A meaty pink tip.
//Mans is sliced- no foreskin. And he shaves (once he figured out how)
//Once he found out what piercing were he defiantly got a Prince Albert piercing (or more like six).
//Thinks his dick isnât special at all. All he sees is a breeding stick that he put jewelry on.
6// NANAMI KENTO
//Moving onto not that tall but thick category-
//6.8 inches tall, 5 inches thick.
//Nanami will stretch you like no other.
//Itâs lube or nothing no questions asked.
//Darkened cream color shaft, his veins on display much to his annoyance and a faded pink tip on this monster.
//Heâs got no foreskin and heâs trimmed down at his choice. His hair makes him feel manly, but heâs not an unkept beast like Getou or Sukuna.
//He most likely wouldnât notice heâs too big to get in you without the help of lube no matter how wet you are, the first time aroundâ heâs apologized many times for hurting you.... but the apology is not going to fix the pain of what you went through on your first time.
7// ITADORI YUJI
//An excited loving boy... who doesnât realize how much power he has
// 6.7 inches tall, 4.7 inches thick.
//In my opinion thickness beats length... add it to how much stamina Yuji has- Iâm sorry butâ youâll probably die.
// a soft tan color with meaty veins that stick out. His head is a shade between red and pink.
//He has foreskin. And he doesnât really shave, once in a while he will but he forgets most of the time it doesnât really bother him. He has a happy trail as well.
//This man cums. ALOT- heâll fill you up with his size and ontop of that fill you to the brim with his dong water. Itâll probably overflow and then some.
//With his puppy like energy and his Gatorade bottle shaped dick- I donât believe in god but Iâll pray for you and your first time with Yuji đâđż
8//FUSHIGURO TOJI
//A Tired father who forgets heâs a father.
// 6.3 inches tall, 4 inches thick.
//Tojiâs lived a long life and slept with a bunch of people. He KNOWS he has a big dick.
// Surprisingly a creme color. His veins pulse out harder than anyone on this list. a light pink tip, heâs kept his dick pretty over all these years.
//No foreskin and he doesnât shave. You better not have braces because I donât think this man has EVER picked up a razor in his life.
//Phat bawls đŠâđżđŚđŚ
//all Iâm saying is- Toji will make it fitâ heâs experienced he knows how to pop it in the smallest of holes.
9//FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
//Onto the average/ leaning one way guys
// 5.7 inches tall 2.3 inches thick
//His possessiveness in the bedsheets make up for his size.
//Sure Megumi doesnât have a monster cock but the way he fucks you, itâll FEEL LIKE A MONSTER COCKâ
//Slightly dark cream color, no veins, Pink tip thatâs fatter then the rest of his cock, aka mushroom tip.
//No foreskin, and Megumi shaves almost everyday. Hair in his pants makes him uncomfortable.
//Megumiâs dick is above average, he doesnât really care about size, because he knows how to fuck and fuck right. Heâs seen guys bigger than him who have no idea what theyâre doing.
//Megumi puts them to shame at the light speed and positions he fucks you with, leaving you sore for days with his âabove averageâ cock.
//He takes pride in fucking you good.
10//TOGE INUMAKI
//Love Toge with all my heart- but Iâm sorry heâs a little above average in height.
// 5. 8 inches tall, 2 inches thick
//Togeâs dick is just cute- itâs just so cute. Itâs pale, no visible veins and the prettiest pink ever. Heâs so overly sensitive as well.
//No foreskin- and Toge shaves every now and then so trimmed.
//Toge doesnât really care about his size, he just honestly cares about making you feel good. <3
//And he knows how~
//His speech curse can really spice up the bedroom~
//Heâs got a little height so itâs not bad at all plus Toge has stamina.
//ENJOY HIM- HES DOESNT CARE ABOUT HIS SIZE AGAINST ANYONE ELSES.
11// JUNPEI YOSHINO
//(Yall Gon hate me for this one đâđż)
//âIs it in yet?â
// 5 inches tall, 1.8 inches thick.
//Look I love Junpei with all my heart but- letâs just be honest- Heâs a shy guy.
//Pretty pale cream shaft and faded pink tip.
//foreskin(adds some volume đ) and he shaves.
//Junpei gives off heâs not a virgin but heâs still fucking you like heâs a virgin vibes.
//Heâs just a stumbling boy... but once heâs confident with you he, can really be dominant.
//Toys and kinks make up for what he lacks, if youâre really into Roleplay please, Junpei will act better than the paid porn actors.
//Yes heâll be your flight attendant for your long trip across the world in your private jet. Yes heâll be your puppy boy, yes heâll be your nurse.
//MY MANS LOOKS SO GOOD IN A FUCKING SKIRRTTTT-
(In the end this was all for jokes/Brainrot- Size doesnât matter, the person on the other end does đ)
Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-marginsâ, but I took it of her hands :) (So i get this is sorta hard to do but i was wondering if you could write a spencer x nonbinary (gender-neutral pronouns) reader where reader isnât out to the team yet but spencer finds out somehow and the reader is afraid heâll reject them but instead he confesses his feelings and just starts info dumping about third genders in other cultures and the roots of binary america, etc. just like fluffy and accepting. once again, i get it if you donât want to/canât but that would be awesome)
Content Warning: swearing (if any), misgendering, usual criminal minds case work stuff, bi!spencer, lgbt+ history lesson, platonic cuddling (or is it?), kissing (not platonic), Doctor Who season 12 spoilers (weird, I know), afab!reader
Word Count: 4,110
Summary: reader comes out as non-binary to their best friend, Spencer, after they notice he changes the pronouns he uses to talk about them and after the team misgenders them.
A/N: pom (aka @imagining-in-the-marginsâ) posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. im also non-binary and only out to a few friends, so this piece is dear to my heart. also, i wrote reader as afab, since thatâs also me, but also the request says that reader isnât out to the team yet, and i had to give reader a gender. so im sorry about that. thatâs where the mis-gendering comes in. spencerâs nickname for reader is bumblebee when theyâre friends, but once they start dating itâs honeybee⌠bc reader isâŚÂ enbee⌠thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
It was a new day at work. A new day, a new me⌠Kinda, not really. Itâs still old me. Iâm just trying to figure out the new me. I think that makes sense. It makes sense to me, so thatâs all that matters, I think.
Maybe today was the day I came out to the team as Non-Binary. Thatâd probably help my feeling of garbage. Not even my own family knew about my little secret. So thatâs been something Iâve seriously been thinking about, telling everyone that I was Non-binary and preferred they/them pronouns.Â
I kept my head low as I stepped off the elevator and onto the floor of the BAU. The good news is, people werenât rushing around like I was partly expecting them to be. The bad news is, when I got to my desk, there was a stack of files, waiting to be looked over. And the unfortunate part was, I wouldnât get to get through half of them, because something told me there was a current case we had to go on.Â
That something being Emily Prentiss standing outside her office, looking for everyone on the team. I looked up at her with a pout as she nodded towards the conference room. I looked back at the stack of files before grabbing my go bag and going up to the conference room.
Everyone was already there, waiting for me. Although, I was usually late, in a sensible fashion. So I quickly took my seat beside Spencer and remained quiet as Penelope and Emily told us about the case.
{***}{***}{***}
âWe can go to the most recent victimâs house, interview the siblings,â Spencer spoke up as we both walked up to Emily. I looked up at him and nodded, silently agreeing that I could go with. Itâs not like I had anything better to do anyways. Tara and Luke were at the newest crime scene. David and Matt were with the ME. And Emily was about to go interrogate the suspect. So, going with Spencer would give me something to do.Â
âSheâll have to conduct the interview,â Emily looked up from the file she was reading and right at me. I looked down, away from anyone who was possibly looking at me. Getting mis-gendered was something I was used to, by now anyways. But, for some reason, this time it really bothered me. Emily doesnât know, itâs fine. Itâs mostly my fault anyways. And, I guess it bothered Spencer too, because the expression on his face shifted from normal to⌠annoyed.
âOf course, they can do the interview. Theyâre the most like the victim,â Spencer looked at Emily before looking back at me. I looked at him and smiled softly. It was more of a nervous smile than anything else. A change, and correction, in pronoun⌠I hadnât exactly told anyone that I preferred different pronouns, I had honestly gotten used to the unfortunate misgendering.
âI can do it, Iâm perfectly capable of it,â I smiled at Spencer then over at Emily. So much for a change.
Summary: Request: Can you do a elf reader x Legolas where he's finally home in mirkwood after the quest? Maybe Gimli is with him and he's like 'i see why you always talked about the lassie.' or something funny that exposes Legolas for how much he really likes her. He then confeses and asks to court her or something sweet pleaseee?? My fav fluff writer! Thank u!
A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and sweet as heck request. Really love this one. I didn't edit it too heavily so please be wary of general writing mistakes! Hope you all enjoy my fav elf imagine :)
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.9k +
TW: Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers
You had finally gotten a free evening to yourself after training for the better part of every evening for the last year with your father, Girdirion. He had been training you relentlessly after Legolas had left of the quest his father, King Thranduil, had sent him off on. That was over a year ago. You hadnât heard much other than they had made it to Minas Tirith a few months ago.
Your father suddenly saw you as defenseless without your longtime friend at your side. Being the kings most trusted advisor, he had been trained for centuries and was a formidable fighter. It wasnât until after Legolas had left that you had realized how serious the threat to middle earth was. Your father must had realized it too as he worked you to the bone, training you at every chance he could.
It was only after King Thranduil received word that the ring had been destroyed and his son was heading home did things begin to change. Your father still made you train but it wasnât at every waking moment any longer. Tonight, was one of those nights that he had given you off as he had meetings to attend to with the king.
Time felt too slow as you waited for Legolas to return. He promised he would. You knew he would. He was all the way across middle earth, but you just couldnât seem to wait any longer. You longed for you best friend, who meant much more to you than just a best friend, to come home.
As soon as you settled on your bed to begin reading the novel you had been meaning to finish there was a quick knock at your door. Who could that be? You werenât expecting anybody at this hour after dinner. Begrudgingly, you set the book down just as you had gotten comfortable and made your way over to the door.
When you opened the door you scrunched your face in confusion, âFather? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the king?â
He nodded, âI was. Then we got interrupted. There is somebody here I think you may want to see.â His smile let you know exactly what you were thinking. Legolas was home. He was back in Mirkwood after nearly a year and a half away. Sure, it wasnât that long of a time for you in the scheme of your lifetime but it did feel like the longest year of your nearly two thousand years in middle earth.
âLegolas?â You tore out of your room not waiting for his response as you made your way to the throne room. You heard your fathers deep laughter behind you before he jogged to catch up with your lighter than air pace.
Once he caught up to you he had that knowing smile on his face. He had watched the two of you dance around the obvious feelings each other had. You never thought you were good enough to be with the kings son. He never thought you were interested in that way. But to everybody on the outside looking in it was rather obvious the two of you were destined to be together. Even if it was taking longer than expected. A thousand years longer than expected. See, King Thranduil and your father had agreed they would bless the union between the two of you should it come naturally. But neither had the heart to force it. He and your father knew as good as anybody these things had to find their way on their own, naturally. Even if it drove the two elder Ellonâs mad.
âIndeed, your elf has made it home.â He spoke as the two of you walked, much faster than normal, towards the kings room.
Before you opened the massive wood doors you turned to him with a sly smile and a hint of a blush dotting the apples of your cheeks, âMy elf?â
Your father raised his eyebrows at you, âGo on then.â He pushed you forward ignoring your question.
When you pushed open the doors you couldnât find the familiar blonde hair of your best friend. Even as you walked closer to the throne you looked all around the hall and only spotted King Thranduil who was giving you the same smirk your father just did. What were they up to? Where was Legolas? And why was the king looking at you like he knows something you didnât?
âI apologize my king.â You bowed unsure of what else to do. When you turned to see if your father had followed you in you were left biting your lip seeing the door closed without him in the room. What was he up to? âMy father saidâŚâ
Thranduil put his hand up pausing you right in your tracks, âLegolas is out in the gardens with a dwarf. A dwarf!â He sounded more frustrated than excited to his son after the time away.
But you cracked a smile instead. That was so him. He was anything and everything his father was not. The two of them could not have more different personalities. Your best friend was the one to push boundaries no elves would or could do seeing that his father was the king, âA dwarf you say? That sounds like him.â
Thranduil studied your happier than heâs seen you in an entire year expression full well knowing it was because Legolas was back from his grand quest. Thranduil rose from his throne before walking down to you. Having to look up to him because he was so tall all you could do was wait on his word.
He pointed his hand towards the entrance to the kings private gardens, âGo, you audience is rather impatiently waiting on you.â He gave you a knowing smile before retreating towards the door you had originally come in, likely to go find your father. Not wasting anymore time you made a beeline towards the doors that led to the private gardens you so rarely got to enjoy. He must have deemed it enough of a special occasion to grant access to not only you, but a dwarf as well. You knew Legolas was behind that as well. He was the only one to get the king to agree to something he might not want to do.
For the second time in a few moments, you threw open the heavy wooden doors leading out to the gardens. It did not take you long to hear the pair before you saw them. You paused hoping to catch just a brief moment between the two of them before you made your presence completely known. As you suspected the dwarf had Legolas distracted from hearing you walk out.
âLook at ya lad. Pacinâ like a horse.â The unfamiliar voice chuckled. You had a feeling the dwarf poked fun at the ellon more often than not.
You just knew he was rolling his eyes, the beautiful blonde prince he was, âI am not Gimli.â
But the dwarf just kept laughing, âYaâ werenât even this nervous when we rode up to the Black Gate.â
âWould you quiet down dwarf. She will be out momentarily.â That sounded just like the elf that had left a year and a half prior. It was almost too easy to get him worked up and the dwarf called Gimli certainly enjoyed playing into it.
âThe little lassie has you this nervous huh?â You? You made him nervous?
Legolas let out a huff, âGimli!â And you knew that was your queue to help spare the ellon from his friend who seemed relentless. You already liked Gimli from the sounds of it. You shut the door behind you louder than necessary to signal your arrival.
Taking a deep breath, you walked forward suddenly terribly nervous after those comments. What was Gimli playing on? Why would he be nervous to see you? You didnât want to get your hopes up on feelings as you buried those away centuries ago. Your crush for the ellon grew slowly the first thousand or so years you knew him. Truly organic in the best way possible. Childhood friends to training partners to friends then best friends after it all. Once your training to become a healer had completed you had a sneaking suspicion all his injuries in the field were so he could come see you after some time away. He would only request you. Straight refusing the other healers help when offered. He would wait for you.
But then it just stayed like that. You thought it could grow into something more, but it dawned on you over the next few centuries his father had a say in who he courts and marries. Why would King Thranduil allow his son to court you of all elves? Sure, your father was his most trusted advisor, but you were no political gain in marriage. So you did what you did best, buried the feelings deep and bottled it all up.
The two of them quieted quickly hearing the door close. When you turned the corner you finally spotted your prince after far too long apart paired with an adorably red-headed dwarf who was staring right at you. You however were staring straight at Legolas as your small smile turned into a massive one. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing right there in front of you after too long. The longest either have you had spent apart from each other.
âLegolas.â You grinned before pulling him into a tight hug. It was when he gave you a big squeeze back that you simply just melted into the ellon completely forgetting you had an audience yourselves.
âAye lad! You left out the detail of your Y/N being quite the beauty.â Gimli spoke up from beside you breaking the trance the two of you seemed to be under. You giggled once you pulled away from him seeing the look of horror cross his face at his friends comments.
You turned to the dwarf feeling the nerves wash away. You had the advantage here as Gimli seemed to want to torture your friend, âHello. It is lovely to meet you. I am Y/N. Daughter of Girdirion, King Thranduilâs advisor.â
He pointed at you before narrowing his eyes at you, âDo you hate dwarves as much as his father does?â
You shook your head, âHardly. You are actually the first dwarf I am meeting. I do not get away often.â You knelt down making yourself level with him, âYou are much cuter than made out to be.â That earned a few stumbling words and a rather mighty blush to the warrior who seemed to have nothing but words. You managed to render him speechless.
This earned a snicker from your favorite ellon, âElf got your tongue there Gimli?â
That comment must have meant war between the two of them. The dwarf cocked his eyes up to his friend, shook his head then turned back to you who was now back to standing instead of crouching, âLady Y/N. It is lovely to finally meet you too. I feel as though I already know ya lassie.â He grinned knowing exactly what he was about to do.
You looked at Legolas with curiosity framing your face before returning your attention back to Gimli, âDo you?â
âAye.â He nodded, âLegolas here would never shut up about ye. Y/N this. Y/N that. Y/N would love this. Y/N would hate that.â
You knew your cheeks were surely aflame with embarrassment just as Legolasâ were, âWe have spent quite some time together over the years.â
But Gimli wouldnât have that, âI think it has something to do with you lassie. The way you look. The way you dress. The way you seem to occupy his every thought.â
âThat is enough.â Legolas finally chimed in giving his friend a hard stare telling him to get the hell out. But that only egged the red head on further. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them before Gimli relented.
He bowed his head, âMy lady.â
Echoing his actions you responded, âGimli.â Before turning your attention back to the prince. Your eyes finally were able to scan his features. Not a hair seemed out of place. He was exactly as you remembered.
âWelcome home.â You gave him your biggest smile feeling like you could finally relax after seeing him alive and well.
He wasted no more time before pulling you into a second bone crushing hug. He had never been so forward causing you to let out a slight stutter in surprise of his actions. It was the last thing you had expected from him. But then again, who knew what he went through out there. Legolas was a strong warrior, but you knew how deeply this could impact anybody who had to go through it.
âI have missed you.â He whispered into your ear not letting his arms go from around you. He had no clue how his words were affecting you in that moment. Suddenly you felt that stupid little crush, that was surely love at this point, bubbling up from the depths of your heart that you had long since locked away.
When he pulled away after a few moments he took the time to look you over just as you had moments prior. He didnât drop his hands from around your waist though, simply holding you loosely in his embrace. You had never felt his eyes or his hands on you heavily before or that you had noticed in the past, âI have missed you beyond words Legolas. I have spent a year and a half filled with the dread of the thought you may never come home. Seeing you here is the greatest gift Eru IlĂşvatar could have bequeathed.â
It was then that Legolas knew just how deep your feelings ran for him just as they had run for you. He too had spent the better part of a thousand years being absolutely in love with you, his favorite elf, but making no indication of it. For he thought you may have eyes for someone else. He could not risk losing you in the event you said ânoâ to his request to court you. But by the way you were looking at him he knew that was wrong. Your love laced eyes could not break away from his gorgeous blue ones.
He knew he needed to take the next step with you. Gimli was right. His dwarf friend spent the better part of the journey home convincing him he needed to ask the question he had been dying to ask you. He wanted to court you. Spend the rest of his middle earth life and the next one with you. He had never been so sure of that. The thought of courting another elleth felt wrong. It was you. It was always going to be you.
âGimli was not lying, my lady.â Even though it came out as a whisper your ears could pick it up with no problem.
That shocked you. Was he admitting the same thing that you were? Did he have feelings for you too? âPardon?â
He grinned seeing your dumb struck face, âYou do in fact occupy my every thought. You are the reason I am here now. I fought for middle earth, yes. But for you more. Thinking of your smile pulled me out of the darkest of times
Your lips parted in utter shock at his admission, âLegolas, IâŚâ You were at a loss for words as you processed his confession to you. Your heart was giving you away completely though as it beat faster than it ever had before.
He continued seeing as you were rendered speechless, âIt was only ever you. It was only every going to be you, my love. You are my very best friend Y/N. I would never want to continue this life with somebody who was not you. It is only you. It will only ever be you.â He paused finding the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries, âI love you.â
Your jaw might have been on the floor at this point, âYou love me?â
He nodded with a nervous expression, âMore than you will ever know.â
That was all you needed before you walked forward, butting yourself right against his chest, âThat is a relief my prince. As I love you too. More than you will ever know.â
Euphoria. The truest form of euphoria pulsed through your body as you too admitted what had always been so hard to admit.
His expression melted to that of pure elation. Gently he placed his hands under your chin, cupping your face so carefully, âMay I begin to court you, my love?â
âI would be so honored Legolas.â Your head was turned up as you looked into his eyes for likely the millionth time. It was different this time. Charged with love and lust. Like you were looking at a new Legolas. One that you could get to know at a much deeper level.
He brushed his thumb over your lips sending shivers racking throughout your body, âOnly you. Only ever you.â
Summary: When the Fellowship is forced to share horses on their journey across Middle Earth, youâre paired with the last person you expected, Legolas. Riding in front of him should have been innocent, but with every shift of the saddle, every breath against your neck, it gets harder to pretend you donât notice, so you stop pretending. What starts as subtle teasing quickly spirals into something far more dangerous when the composed elven prince finally cracks.
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, Sexual teasing (reader-initiated), Riding position tension (literally), p in v sex, Slight dom!Legolas energy, let me know if i missed anything! <3
Word Count: 1k
A/N: first fic iâm writing on this account as iâm new to tumblr, and my first EVER smut hence itâs kinda short so apologies if itâs bad.
There werenât many horses left when the Fellowship set out from Rivendell, supplies were stretched, and pairs had to share mounts as you traveled across Middle Earth. When Elrond told the Fellowship youâd need to share horses, you didnât expect to be paired with him.
âYou shall ride with Legolas.â
Heâd only given you a graceful nod, eyes as cool and unreadable as always, not a single flicker of surprise. Typical.
You, on the other hand, had to turn away before your expression betrayed just how much you didnât mind being pressed against the impossibly perfect form of the elven prince.
What you didnât expect was to be riding in front.
It made sense, he could guide the reins, but it meant your back was flush against his chest. It meant your thighs were spread over the saddle with his legs caging yours. It meant every time the horse shifted⌠you felt everything.
The first few hours, you tried to behave, but it was hard to ignore him. Every movement of the horse made you shift, and every shift brought you closer. His hands were steady on the reins just beside your hips, but you could feel the tension humming through him. His breath was warm against your neck. Controlled. Too controlled.
âComfortable?â he asked, his voice like velvet sliding over stone.
âVery,â you murmured.
You leaned back slightly. Just a little.
Enough to press your lower back to the front of his thighs.
You felt it, even then, a twitch, a catch in his breath. Barely there, but real.
⸝
The next day, you were bolder.
You stretched in the saddle more often, letting your hips roll a little. Adjusted your seat with unnecessary slowness, and arched your back after long hours of riding, subtly grinding against him.
Each time, he shifted. Just a hair. But never spoke.
UntilâŚ
âYou move quite a lot,â he said tightly, on the third day.
You turned your head, feigning innocence. âDo I? Sorry. I suppose Iâm just sore. Hard to sit still with thighs aching like this.â
You heard it, the inhale through his teeth, Sharp. Strangled.
You smiled. Dangerously.
By the time the sun began to dip behind the hills, the air was hot and thick with tension and sweat. The Fellowship rode in silence, accompanied only by the distant sounds of horsesâ hooves and the creak of leather straps. You let your head fall back against his shoulder.
âYou smell like forests,â you said softly. âDo all elves smell like this, or just you?â
You felt him tense.
âI do not know,â he said, voice tight. âI have never asked.â somewhat unamused by his predicament.
You smiled again. Then slowly, you let your hips roll with the rhythm of the horse, a deliberate sway that dragged you against him, back to front.
That was when you felt him.
The hard press of him beneath you.
You went still.
So did he. A horrible, agonizing pause.
ââŚForgive me,â he said suddenly, his voice raw. âIt is not my intention to disrespect you.â
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch his expression, mortified and ashamed.
And thatâs when you realised-
He really didnât think you knew what you were doing. Your heart twisted and your stomach lit up all at once.
âLegolas,â you said softly, shifting to face him slightly, your legs still straddling the saddle, his body warm and trembling behind you.
âIâve been doing this on purpose.â
His eyes widened.
âI wanted you to feel that way,â you whispered. âI wanted to know if you wanted me, too.â
He stared at you, stunned silent.
And then he growled.
Actually growled.
⸝
As the Fellowship came to a halt, Aragorn suggesting they make camp before nightfall, Legolas announced his intention for the both of you to scout the surroundings for safety. He pulled the reins sharply and veered the horse off the trail, toward a small glade tucked into the trees. The moment the trees covered you, he dismounted and pulled you down into his arms, before your feet even touched the earth.
Your back hit a tree with a thud, his lips already crashing into yours. The tension between you broke like a dam, raw and hungry, his hands roaming your body like he couldnât believe heâd waited so long.
âYou torment me,â he said between kisses. âAll day. Every movement. I thought I would go mad.â
âI wanted to torment you,â you gasped, tugging at his belt. âI wanted this.â
He caught your hands, breathless, holding them to his chest.
âAre you certain?â he asked, voice low, shaking.
You nodded. âYes. Iâve always wanted you.â
Clothes were discarded quickly and clumsily. The earth was soft, moss beneath your back as he settled between your legs, hard and aching, his body shaking with restraint.
âI will go slow,â he whispered. âI must⌠go slow.â
But when he slid inside you, all control broke.
He gasped matching your own, and the pace became fast, hungry, full of longing. You clung to him, fingers in his hair, moaning into his shoulder as he thrust into you, each stroke deeper, stronger, allowing himself to be consumed with your entire being. He whispered your name like a prayer and a curse all in one.
âYou feel- Valar, you feel like fire,â he panted.
And when you came, crying out beneath him, he followed you, his body demanding to be in sync, groaning into your skin as he spilled inside you, hips trembling. He collapsed over you, still inside, both of you shaking, panting.
⸝
Later, as the stars blinked into the sky and your horse grazed nearby, Legolas lay beside you on the moss, his fingers tracing your bare arm.
âThey must be worried, we should go backâ your voice softly emerging from the silence.
âYes youâre probably rightâ everting his eyes from the sky, he gazed upon you, watching your still, fixated form as it studied the sky above you. Before making an attempt to lift himself from your side, an idea, accompanied with a smirk came to mind.
âYouâll ride in front again tomorrow,â he murmured, voice soft and teasing.
You grinned. âI assumed as muchâ
âBut this time,â he said, kissing your shoulder, âif you tease me⌠youâll pay for it after nightfall.â
You shivered.
âIâm counting on it.â
⸝
A/N: Ahh this is so short sorry! thank you for reading my first attempt <3
By the time the sun began to dip behind the hills, the air was hot and thick with tension and sweat. The Fellowship rode in silence, accompanied only by the distant sounds of horsesâ hooves and the creak of leather straps. You let your head fall back against his shoulder.
So well written. At this scene, I was already biting my lip. đĽ°
I hope one day I will manage to write some Legolas smut too.
Thank you for sharing. Maybe you'd like to have a look at my own Legolas fics? They're on my masterlist post.
A/N: Iâve started putting the next chapter titles up (because I know what they are now), so now you get some ideas of what could be coming *wink* - Nemo
Song: âI See Fireâ by Ed Sheeran Â
Warning(s): Thorinâs still a jerk but in lowercase lettering.Â
Summary: You sing a song for the fallen Laketown. The Company gets put on edge, as this song seems to be exactly about what theyâre watching. What does it mean? Are you finally telling them their future, or does it mean more than that?
Series Masterlist Â
Masterlist Â
Everything was burning. Homes, buildings and lives. People.Â
It hurt that all you could do was watch, with the stone cold underneath you, and the wind making your tears feel like carving knives slicing a river of ice down your face. It as an ironic contrast, really. Especially since your chest burned and ached with every breath.Â
You couldnât tell if it was because of the trip up to your mountain-side viewing platform for destruction - something that wouldnât normally be a problem (not considering everything youâd done to get to Erebor) - or the fact that you were feeling so close to being sick - like properly throwing-up your last meal sick - because of what was happening both to Laketown and Thorin, but your chest really hurt.Â
It was too much, and you werenât handling it well at all.
Dori - ever vigilant to these things - came forwards to you when the others stayed further behind. He didnât say anything, he didnât really need to, and you didnât want him to. He just sat with you, and that was enough.Â
My Lover, My Monarch, My Friend (Thorin Oakenshield x GN Reader)
The Hobbit/LOTR Masterlist
Summary: Thorin notices changes and unhealthy habits begining to form. All he can do is do his best to show you that he cares.
@robin-the-enbyâ Requested: Hello! Is it ok if I ask for Thorin and an s/o who struggles with an ed? Preferably anorexia, but you can leave it unspecified. I would just love some comfortâŚIf youâd need more information, Iâll gladly provide it! But if this is triggering for you or you donât want to write it, thatâs completely fine, just let me know <3 Thank you so much!!
A/N: This is my first time writing about an ED if this is triggering or hurtful in any way Let me know and I will remove it immediatelyÂ
Warnings: Slight description of an ED, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
AN: This is the first story Iâve ever posted for others to read, so if anyone reads it please give me some feedback. Good and bad, I would like to get a get some opinions on my current writing skills. And if there is demand for a part two I would like to know. Enjoy the story.
Pairing: Company x GN Reader (platonic)
Summary:Â (y/n), a human from another world, finds themself within the famous childrenâs story The Hobbit becoming a member of the Company of Thorin Oakensheild. One night after a long ride the Company set up camp in a cave to shield themselves from the never ending rain. (y/n) follows after the two princes and the hobbit to speak with them when they are all given a good scare.
Warnings: Injured reader
âââââââââââ
Honestly, (y/n) wasnât sure how exactly they ended up in their current predicament. Sitting on the bank of an angry river in the middle of nowhere, during a harsh downpour. They sat in the mud, completely soaked and shivering; they hugged themself close, and hissed when they felt the growing burning pain in their forearms. While they were still in the water the current brought a dead log right into their path. In order to keep themself conscious, they had to bring their arms up above their head to take the brunt of the hit before they went under. Their right foot was missing itâs boot, which made them considerably colder than they already were. Plus, they were crestfallen over the loss of such loved footwear. (y/n) really loved those boots.
After sitting there for an unknown amount of time, (y/n) hauled themself up and began limping back towards the camp. They didnât give any thought to an explanation to give the company upon her return; Their mind was too scattered. (y/n) couldnât think straight as they tried to recall what had happened. When they fell into the river, the ground had crumbled beneath their feet, and they tumbled into their near-watery demise. Fili and Kili had been there, along with Bilbo, who had let out quite a scream at their fall. They must be worried sick. (y/n) found themself becoming increasingly more exhausted the longer they walked. How far had the river carried them? Soon their thoughts werenât more than just incoherent blurs in their head.
When they arrived at the mouth of the cave, their teeth chattered loudly, and they rubbed their hands up and down the sides of their arms. When (y/n) came into view, several figures stood and quickly came to their aid, not that they were really willing to accept it. They brushed past them, heading straight for their bag on a mission to get out of their wet clothes and into relatively dry ones. They didnât even notice that several members of the company were missing. Pulling out a set of new clothes, someone approached them and placed a warm hand on their shoulder.
â(Lass/Lad), you alright?â It was Bofur, his voice was soft and full of concern.
âTell everyone to turn around.â They avoided his question. âPlease.â
âWhat?â
âTell everyone to turn around. Iâm gonna change.â They didnât even give him time before they started pulling their shirt off over their head.
Bofur sputtered and spun on his heel with his hands slapped over his eyes. The others soon followed, and (y/n) heard several surprised mutters in Khuzdul, but paid them no mind. They continued on, their pants following their shirt to the ground; they stripped down to nothing. The chill air blew over their naked skin, making a violent shiver run down their spine, and they quickly pulled on the second set of clothes. After they were fully clothed they walked past a few turned heads and sat themself as close to the fire as they could with her blanket slung over their shoulders.
âYou can open your eyes now.â (y/n) teased.
â(Lass/Lad),â This time it was Balin who addressed them, and they hummed in response as they warmed her hands over the fire. âAre you alright?â
(y/n) was quick to answer, âYeah, Iâm pretty sure Iâm good.â
âAre you sure? How about you let Oin l give you a good once over?â His voice was firm.
âBilbo came running in nearly twenty minutes ago, screaming about how youâd fallen in the river.â Dwalin spoke up to reinforce his brotherâs suggestion. âThorin and them are still out there lookân for ya.â
After he mentioned it (y/n) looked around and noticed that he was right. Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Bilbo were all missing from the cave. They chewed on their lip unconsciously, thinking about how worried they must be, how worried they all had been before their unforeseen reappearance. Where were they now? How far had they gone? They thought about getting up to go get them themself but ultimately decided against it due to their freezing and battered state. (y/n) pursed their lips then looked up to Dwalin.
âShouldnât someone go find them? Itâs still raining.â
âAye, Iâll go tell them your back alive.â And with that Dwalin nodded towards Balin, and made his way out of the mouth of the cave.
(y/n) watched him leave when another violent shiver racked their body. A large warm hand placed itself gently onto their cheek almost making them sigh, but they didnât resist slightly leaning into the touch. Bifur had moved to their side with a very concerned crease in his brow. He spoke something to Balin and removed his hand - much to their dislike - to make a few hand signals. The older dwarf nodded and took a few steps closer.
âI do believe it would be in your best interest to allow Oin to look you over, Bifur says your freezing.â He paused, thinking, âYou took a hard fall, (lass/lad). It also wouldnât be wrong to assume you may be injured.â
âI guess thereâs no harm in it.â (y/n) gave in.
Balin waved Oin, who grabbed his medical bag, grunting as he pulled himself to his feet. (y/n) had to turn their back to the fire to face Oin as he sat before them, feeling their skin with his bare hand. They showed him their arms to which he shook his head and muttered something under his breath, before bandaging them up. The bandages went from just below their elbow to just before their wrists. It felt odd to have their arms wrapped up the way they were but never once did they say anything opting to allow Oin to do his thing.
 At one point their foot was in his grasp where he found a gash about four or five inches long on the back of their calf where a rock had caught their leg and stolen their boot. It was slightly deep so he had to stitch it close before wrapping a bandage around it too.
By the time he finished, Dwalin returned with the last members of the company hot on his heels.
I want the LaDS boys to react when someone else accidently makes his s/o sexy gasp/moan; someone had randomly poked a spot on her back to get her attention, but it was one of her sensitive spots. Does that make sense? You can write them all or pick one.
Hands off!
Tags: LADS men x fem!Reader, established relationships, jealous LADS men, threats of violence (Rafayelâs) and slight stalking (Calebâs), suggestive content, NSFW (Sylusâs), MDNI
An: what a wonderfully devious request, i love it.
ZAYNE
The two of you were at a fundraising banquet. The hospital was raising money for pediatric oncology treatment. While Zayne wasn't an oncologist, he made a habit to show his face at most Akso Hospital events, especially ones for a good cause.
You were surrounded by city hall representatives, nurses, doctors, and other big wigs in the healthcare industry. While you felt out of your league, Zayne assured you that he often felt out of place as well, but it was for a good cause at the end of the day.
Giving your temple a light kiss, Zayne follows one of his residents towards the small dessert table that the hospital has set up.
You busy yourself, listening to another doctor's wife prattle on about a recent trip she took to the islands recently. You nurse a glass of champagne to your lips as you're only half listening to her. Inwardly, you wonder when Zayne was going to be back.
âAh~!â you gasp, face reddening as you jolt slightly. You spin on your heel, looking to see whoever just grazed their hand over your lower back.
You feel you skin grow hot with embarrassment as you see a fellow doctor that Zayne works closely with behind you. He's a little bit older, much old enough to know better than to touch a married woman there. "Oh, I apologize miss. I didn't mean to startle you."
Before you can even think of how to respond, you feel a presence press to your side, and you immediately recognize the smell of your husband's cologne.
"Dr. Hartford, to what do I owe the pleasure?" his stoic voice fills the space, and his hand steadily slides across your lower back until he wraps his palm conspicuously around your hip. It's subtle, but he's staking a claim over you.
"Dr. Zayne! It's so good to see you. I see this must your missus," Dr. Hartford says with a jolly smile. His cheeks and nose are red telling you one of two things: either he's embarrassed to be caught touching you while Zayne was present or he's had far too much alcohol. You decide that it was likely a combination of both factors.
"This is my wife, y/n." Zayne says as his hand imperceptibly tightens around your hip. It's not very often you get to see this more jealous side of him. "For your own benefit, Dr. Hartford, it'd be wise to keep your hands to yourself in the future. You know how... touchy HR can be about these sorts of situations."
Your eyes widen as you look up towards your husband in slight shock and awe. Only Zayne could threaten someone so professionally and look so handsome while doing so.
Now, if only you can convince him to take a few sips of champagne tonight, and you'll have yourself a good night.
RAFAYEL
Being a Lemurian meant that every one of his senses is attuned to be able to experience his beloved better. This meant he practically heard your small moan before it ever even left your lips.
His eyes search the crowd at the art exhibit he was forced to attend. You promised to stay by his side, but where were you now?
To the average personâs eye, Rafayel looks completely normal right now. Someone would even say he seems aloof, but to the people who truly know him, heâs seething with an unforeseen anger.
Once his eyes zero in on you and Thomas of all people, Rafayel feels his anger only double. He doesnât even excuse himself away from the group of people that were talking and interviewing him about his latest painting. He walks over straight to you.
âYou know, itâs not nice to touch things that arenât yours,â he says, throwing a quick glare over at Thomas. His voice sounded lighthearted, almost like he was some petulant child who caught someone playing with his favorite toy, but you knew the truth.
Thomasâs face was already beet red. When he grabbed your side to stabilize himself, he didnât think you were going to make that noise. He also didnât consider that Rafayel would hear it.
You look towards your boyfriend, who is nearly pouting at you from the whole exchange, and you playfully roll your eyes. âThomas was just trying to keep his balance. He didnât mean anything by it.â
âWell, if my girlfriend was standing beside me, then Thomas couldâve grabbed someone elseâs girlfriend, bur no, he had to grab mine,â Rafayel huffed as he turned his nose up at the two of you, putting on a show of bratty behavior.
âYouâre so helpless, Rafayel.â You tease, looping your arm around his to follow him back to his painting.
âOnly for you, miss bodyguard.â He then reached out a hand and drops a piece of paper onto Thomasâs extended hand. âThatâs for you.â
Thomas waited until the two of you were a distance away before he slowly unfolded the small piece of paper. His eyebrows furrowed as he read the words on the paper.
Iâll kill you and paint with your remains xD
Stunned, Thomas looked back up to where you and Rafayel were. His eyebrows furrowed a little bit, wondering if Rafayel was just playing or notâŚ
XAVIER
The moment a sharp breathy moan leaves your lips while you, Xavier, and another Hunter are out on the field, you know one thing is certain. Xavier's going to kill him.
His hand is still wrapped around your waist. He had only grabbed you to protect you from stepping in a puddle on your way towards reported wanderer activity.
Unfortunately for this poor hunter, who you thought was actually named Hunter, your waist was where you were most sensitive.
Xavier immediately spun around, and his light blade was out within milliseconds. His sapphire blue eyes narrowed as he saw where Hunter was grasping you. His jaw tightens, and you can immediately perceive the stormy look on his face.
âHands off her,â the blonde hunter demanded. âSheâs fine. She can handle herself.â
âRightâ I was just.. helping her out, man. No harm; no foul,â the other hunter said as he took his hands off of you. He held his palms facing Xavier in a surrendering position.
No one in the UNICORNS knew about yours and Xavierâs budding relationship, but they were going to find out real quickly if Xavierâs jealousy kept getting the better of him.
âY/n, you should lead,â Xavier says, ignoring Hunterâs statement. He puts you in the front of their small group, and he trails right behind you, leaving Hunter in the back.
While your back is turned, your boyfriend casually pointed his light blade towards Hunter, forcing space between him and the group. He then shot a glare that could kill over his shoulder to Hunter.
The intention was clear. Xavier was posturing. His glare said all the unspoken words that he could not. âStay away. This is mine.â
The poor man didnât even speak to you for the rest of the mission. He was way too intimidated by Xavier to even consider it. Oh well, Xavier would just have to keep you company.
SYLUS
The two of you were at a coupleâs massage. Well, you were getting a massage, and he got to watch with a glass of wine on the side.
When the masseuseâs fingers rubbed into your neck, targeting all the knots from stress and tension, a breathy little whimper escaped your throat.
Sylus was already having a hard enough time concealing just how much of an effect you had on him. His right ankle was propped against his left knee, and he was settled back onto the chair.
He let out a deep, rich laugh that only men with old money seemed to have.
You were clearly embarrassed, clenching your eyes shut as you profusely apologized. The masseuse tried to reassure you that it was natural, and it only meant she was doing a good job.
âCareful kitten, if you stress yourself out anymore, youâre going to need a massage for this massage,â he teased, swirling his wine glass in his glass cup.
âOh no, that would be sooo terrible,â you responded back with sarcasm bitten into your tone.
âWe all know youâre having a good time, kitten. No need to rub it in everyoneâs faces.â A smirk curled on his lips as his roamed over your body, only covered with a towel.
âShut it-!â you whined, feeling the embarrassment creep back in.
He was doing a good job at hiding it, but his pants felt extremely tight. The thought of you letting out those delicate sounds accidentally, so overwhelmed by painful pleasureâŚ
He took another sip of his wine, and he eyed the masseuse closely. He had gotten massages from her in the past. He knew she was happily married, and he had nothing to worry about. Even if the masseuse was some single guy, he wouldâve still been comfortable in his position. He knows youâre not going anywhere; he trusts you with his entire being.
Still, he watched extra closely. He now felt the need to learn how to use his hands like that. The next time you got a massage, he wanted to be the one to make you let out those noises. He also wanted to be in private, so he could bury his cock into you in peace.
CALEB
Oh, oh man⌠First of all, when you and Caleb first started dating, he barely let you out of armâs length of his side. He couldnât help it. He needed you there with him :(
However, when he finally started letting both of you do things on your own, he still had a habit of watching you.
You were going to go get drinks with a girl friend? Oh okay, thatâs fine⌠the bar has cameras anyway :)
You needed to go to the grocery store? Calebâs already hacked into their security system. No big deal.
You wanted to go out for a walk? Sure, Caleb would just walk a good enough distance behind you so you didnât see him, which is exactly what was happening when he heard that small whine..
He knows that whine by heart. Hell, heâs been teasing you for years, but heâs only heard that specific whine when heâs rearranging your guts.
Subtlety be damned. He didnât care about staying incognito whenever there was someone else who just got to hear that very, very sweet noise from your lips.
When he jogs straight up to you, heâs nearly panting but not from jogging â his pissed. The guy who had gotten you to make that noise was profusely apologizing for accidentally pulling your hair. Apparently, he saw a bug on you or somethingâŚ
It didnât matter to Caleb. Of course, he was polite, putting on a good show by laughing and teasing you. He ignored the confused looks that you threw his way.
âYep, my girlfriend is so unaware, haha. Thanks for getting that bug off her. She hates those things,â he flashes that pretty smile thatâs gotten him out of trouble for years.
While guiding you away from the man, he assures you that he was just going the same way as you because he needed to run to the market really quick for a very specific ingredient for what he was making for dinner tonight.
And of course, the kind stranger was never heard from again. If you have any information on the missing man, please contact the local authorities or the Deepspace Aviation Administration. ďżź
Warnings: Period sEx, for those who menstruate, 4play, p-in-v, shower sEx, mentions of blood, mentions of Zayneâs duties as a doctor, stimulation.
Summary: You're in pain with your period and you need both Zayne and Dr Zayneâs attention.
Reference:
Word count: 2638 words
Notes: It's been a while and I'm sketchy. Somehow this one is long. How? LOL - May edit later. Self indulgent piece as well as an ask!
FanFic MasterList Here
All rights reserved ŠSylusslittlekitten
Creative Commons Licenses
You barely make it through his door.
Your shoulders slumped, carrying the weight of the world. The daily grind absorbed all your energies, leaving your body sluggish. Not to mention your pounding head, and the incessant cramps that started at lunchtime.
Your phone buzzes, a message blaring up the screen:
Zayne: Are you home?
You donât even respond. Just drop your bag, kick off your shoes at the entryway, and collapse onto the sofa with a low, heavy groan. Itâs not that you donât want to reply. You just need to get into your comfy space.
Ten minutes laterâheâs there.
No knock. No grandeur. Just the sound of his thumb unlocking the door, and the quiet click of it closing behind him. His calming aura instantly chased away the tension in the air.
He finds you on the sofa, curled into yourself. Knees tight to your chest. A furrow in your brow. Buried under the plush blanket he throws over the back of the couch.
Zayne crouches beside you. His fingers brushing the hair away from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. He studies youâhazel eyes sharp, taking in your flushed cheeks. The way you clutch your abdomen tightly.
âI told you to call me,â his voice low, hushed and kind.
You try to smirk at him but fail, appearing more of a grimace than anything playful. âDidnât want to be a burden.â
âYouâre not a burden,â he murmurs.
You try to open your mouth to protest, but he was already moving.
While curled up under the blanket, you can hear him in the kitchen. The bubbling sound of a kettle mixed with a slight whistle of steam.
He returns with a hot drink. Fragrant tendrils filling the air as he places it on the side table next to you. It was one of those herbal concoctions he always made, and while they sound more like medicine, they taste divine. A scent of lemon, ginger, honey, and something you couldnât quite put your finger onâit always helped.
âSit up.â
His hands are on you, supporting you, guiding you to sit upright in your struggle. He cups your hand, encouraging it open so he can place painkillers into your palm.
Then without a moment to waste, he turns to the kitchen. One swift motion that stirs the steam from the cup now in your hand. Returning quickly, hot water bottle in one hand, and a towel in the other, wrapping it around the bottle before handing it to you.
âNot directly on your skin, Darling,â looking down at your lap, âover the blanket is best.â
You obey. You always do with Zayne. Something about his toneâit was never forceful, but it left no room for resistance.
After grabbing his notes, he returns to the sofa. Sitting across from you, offering his lap for your feet. Elevating your legs slightly so you can stretch out while he works.
His sleeves are rolled up. Your eyes fixate on the scars across his skin, stretching across the muscle and veins as he scribbles across his notes. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, accentuating the colour of his eyes all the more. Flitting from side to side as he pours over the words on the page. At complete ease, as someone used to chaos.
You on the other hand. You were just trying to keep from curling in on yourself again. The pain was constant. Your body feels heavy, warm, and completely wrong. Still bloated. Still cramping.
âStill hurts?â he queries, putting the notes and his glasses down on the table.
He raises himself from the sofa, standing beside you, encouraging you forward so he can squeeze in behind you. Pulling you gently between his legs, your back resting against his chest.
âBetter?â
You shake your head gently.
His presence is soothing. His body warmth radiating through your back, while the hot water bottle rests on your stomach. Your hands wrapping around your stomach.
Then his hands move.
âMay I?â
You nod, moving your hands away from your stomach as he replaces the space. Much larger than your own, his hands press gently against your clothes. Slowly circling in just the right place, friction creating warmth. Massaging your stomach in the hopes to ease the pain.
As the pain starts to subside, your head lolls back against his shoulder. A whimper that shouldnât sound the way it does leaves your throat softly. Zayneâs throat catches it, swallowing hard, trying to ignore it.
He doesnât rush. Just continues circling. Until you stop whimpering and start to moan.
Your little sounds were getting harder to resist. Affecting him in places heâs sure you can feel. He coughs a little, trying to clear his throat. Trying to distract himself. Youâre in pain, he canât find this a turn-on right now.
And yes, you notice.
His hardness pressing against your lower back and you canât ignore it. The pain in your stomach slowly switches to an ache. Making you squirm between his legs.
The air changes. The atmosphere becoming more tense. You can both feel it. His cheek brushes against the side of your head as he adjusts his hands on you. One sliding under your topâ his slightly cool fingers continuing to trace your stomach in firm, rhythmic circles. The other reaching lower to cradle your thigh, keeping you grounded against him.
His breath is warm against your neck. His voice barely above a whisper.
âYou donât need to talk. Just shake your head if you want me to stop.â
Your lips part with a sigh as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him more of your neck and shoulder. Letting him closer to you. With no shake of your head, he continues.
The massage shifted.
Lower.
Slower.
Still through the fabric, still respectful. Circling above where you want him most. Instinctively, you arch into his touch, begging for him to go lower. His fingers delicate as they follow your cravings, which is when you remember - suddenly stiffening within his embrace.
He notices immediately and stops. Resting his hand on your thigh, brushing his palm back and forth in reassurance.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âZayneââ your voice cracks, shame flickering hot across your cheeks, âIâmââ
A hint of a chuckle halts in his throat.
âI know,â he says, calm and even. Like he was diagnosing a case, not seducing the soul out of your body.
âBut, Iâm bleeding.â Your cheeks somehow reddening more.
âYes,â he murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple. A gentle kiss to soothe your embarrassment. âYou think I didnât notice?â
âAnd youâre not⌠you know?!â
He gave a soft, exasperated breath. Something between a laugh and a sigh. Pressing another chaste kiss to your cheek.
Then his hand moved downward. Slower this time. Over the thick cotton of your underwear.
âDo you want me to stop?â
You shake your head, hips rocking ever so slightly against his hand.
âWords, Darlingâ
âI donât want you to stop. I⌠uh⌠I just donât want you to be grossed out.â
He cups you fully. Firm and intentional. Trying to get your attention. Ensuring you hear him loud and clear.
âSweetheart,â his voice low and brushing your ear, âIâve held peopleâs organs in my hands. Iâve cleaned blood from surgical masks at 3 in the morning. You think this bothers me?â
His fingers curl slightly.
You gasp at the pressure. It was right where you need him.
âThis isnât messy. This isnât gross. This is you.â
His nose trails along your jaw. His breath hot. Pressing kisses between his words like heâs etching them into your skin. âAlive. Powerful. Needing me.â
You tremble. âBut itâsââ
His other hand reaches your jaw, angling you towards his lips. His eyes meet yours, gentle and kind, yet affirmative.
âItâs natural,â he interrupts. âItâs part of you. And I want every part.â
He presses his lips against yours. Soothing. Warm. Easing your thoughts with his tongue.
His fingers began to move again. Deliberate friction through the fabric. Just enough pressure to make your thighs twitch between his. He hums into your mouth as he feels your reactions to his touch.
âI know where your clit is, even through these,â he whispers.
You nod, half-sob, half-sigh. He kisses your cheek as you lean back into him.
âGood girl.â
You rock into his hand. The rhythm slow and indulgent.
His other hand slides under your shirt again, cradling your stomach. Pressing warmth into the cramps like he could pull the pain from you with touch alone.
Your thighs tense. Your hips buck.
Fuck, he was hard. You could feel him against your back. You wanted more. You needed more but your orgasm built faster than your reaction. Sharp and aching, like something youâd been holding in all day.
He coaxes it out of you, gently grinding against your back while you break within his embrace.
No rush. No pressure. Just calm, relentless care.
Zayne doesnât move away. Doesnât flinch. He just holds you tighter. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, your neck exposed as you let the pleasure wash over you.
âYou donât scare me,â he mutters against your pulse, âYou never will.â
ââŚZayne.â
He hums in response, right at the junction of your neck and shoulder, wanting to hear you more. His own need aching against you.
âI wantâŚâ You swallow, cheeks flushed, voice brittle. You press yourself harder against his cock. âI want you. I want more. But I donât feelâŚâ
He stops you. Fingers pulling away from your heat. Still above clothes. Ensuring he hears you right. Making sure youâre certain about this. His hands cup your knees, thumbs sweeping along them.
âYou trust me to do this?â
âI wouldnât ask if I didnât.â
He nods once. âThen come with me.â
He helps you up slowly. His body shifting from behind you, scooping you up into his arms. Holding you against his body as he leads you into his bathroom.
He sets you down on the vanity surface while he adjusts the light and turns on the water. Steam rises in waves while the warm water hisses against the tiles.
You start to undress, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.
âNo, Let me.â
Zayneâs fingers move with practiced ease, undoing buttons, lifting fabric, folding things with care. Nothing rushed. No hunger in his touch. Just intention.
When he reaches your underwear, he can sense your slight hesitation. Stopping for a moment, he steps back to remove his own clothes. Not in the same way as yours. Undoing his tie first with a flick and gentle tug of the wrist, before pulling off his shirt in haste. His belt clanking to the floor as his trousers and boxers drop to the floor. His cock springing against his stomach with a slap.
âNow weâre the same,â he says as he sets you on the floor, reaching for your underwear. He pauses, waiting for your consent.
âThis part,â he said, looking up at you, âwonât ever make me flinch.â
You nod and he pulls them down gently. Tossing them aside like they werenât even a factor, pad still attached.
The shower was hot, the water loud, drowning out everything else. He steps in behind you, his hands gentle on your waist as he turns you around.
âYouâre shaking,â he murmurs, pulling you close. âCome here.â
His arms wrap around you. Skin to skin. He lets you bury your face in his chest as the water soaks you both. It feels like minutes pass by with you rocking together like that, under the warm water.
Then his hands move, down your back, around your hips, to your stomach.
âStill hurting?â
You shake your head. He kisses the top of it.
His hand slides between your thighs. Not invasive. Not rough. Just gentle pressure, rubbing softly over your clit, slowly backing you against the tiled wall.
The water masking the sound of your gasp. Your hips rock into his hand. Tiny, involuntary motions, made all the more desperate by how safe you feel with him.
He adjusts his stance, bracing you with one arm and continues with the other. Firm strokes, wet friction, the heat of the shower blending with the heat blooming under your skin.
You reach for him, looking into his eyes as you take him in your hand. His mouth falls open in an instant, his ache finally being soothed. You start gently, stroking his cock until pre-cum leaks, and his lips find yours. Needy and wanting, as you cover your hand with his slick, making your motions all the more pleasurable.
Moaning into your mouth. Tongues dancing as you allow the need to take over. Moans and gasps, switch to groans, mixing with the steam in the shower. Both of you picking up speed.
His forehead meets yours, making sure he sees your consent. âAre you sure?â
Your blushed and needy face tells him everything he needs to know, but your little nod has him moving. Lifting your legs around his waist, pinning you against the wall as he lines himself up. You try to look down, but he catches you.
âEyes on me, Sweetheart,â affirmative in his tone. Making sure thereâs nothing that will make you feel embarrassed. His eyes fix on yours as he slowly sinks into you. Carefully, inch by inch. Stretching you deliciously around him. Your walls hot and squeezing him already. Your mouth falling open as your body accommodates him.
He stills when he bottoms out. Not to help him, but to give you a moment to adjust. Awaiting your signal to move. His lips on yours in reassurance.
âYou can cry if you need to,â he says into your ear. âYou can fall apart here. No one sees but me.â
You nod against him, and he sinks his head into your neck as he begins to move. Slowly at first. Tentative. Listening to your whimpers, making him crazy as he restrains himself. The angle exactly how you need him. His mound brushing against your clit with every thrust, while hitting that sweet spot within you.
As you start fluttering around him, your whimpers turning into moans, he picks up speed. The sound of wet skin meeting skin drowning into the water.
âYouâre beautiful like this,â he says softly against your neck. His kiss pressing against your pulse. Your cunt pulsing around him as the pleasure builds tighter and tighter. Heâs kissing your jaw as you claw at his back to hold on. âBecause youâre real. Alive. And you let me have this piece of you.â
He kisses your lips. Desperate to feel closer to you.
âLet go!â
And itâs like he commanded it out of you. Your orgasm crests, slow and deep. The kind that rolls. You cling to him. Your legs tremble. And still, he keeps moving, guiding you through wave after wave as he chases his own. His hot cum coating your walls with a groan.
The aftershocks pass. The water still rains down. Neither of you wanting to move away from this bliss.
Removing himself and setting you down gently. Steadying you between his arm and chest while he reaches for the shower head. Washing anything that might cause you embarrassment away from both your bodies.
He kisses your temple. Your skin glowing and flushed. Your brows no longer furrowed.
âLetâs get you dry,â he soothes between kisses, âClean pyjamas. Hot food. Then bed. Youâll stay with me, yeah?â
You nod into his chest. His lips press to your forehead and he smiles against your skin. Warm and affectionate.
âThank you for trusting me,â he whispers, âYou never have to suffer in silence.â
He pauses before angling your jaw, kissing you sweetly one more time before leaving the shower.
đđđđđđđ: You're in an established relationship, known each other for a few months. â.ËđŚ˘â
đźđđđđđ
ăťUhtred picks up on it instantly.
ăťOnce Uhtred understands how touch-starved you are, he becomes a little obsessed with making sure you feel safe in his presence.
ăťSo Uhtred starts to touch you more; a hand on your back when you walk together, holding your wrist and giving it a tight squeeze when he wants your attention, leaning against you casually, running a hand down your arm, holding your cheek for a few moments before he has to leave etc.
ăťAnd when you go out together, his focus is on you.
ăťBecause if someone gets too close than his arm is around your waist, pulling you to his side.
ăťAnd if you're nervous in a crowd? Unsure of where to go because of the mass of people - then Uhtred places a hand on your back and guides you to somewhere less overwhelming.
ăťOh ... and if somehow you ended up hurt; then he would hold you/set you on his lap while he checks your injuries. And in a low, serious voice says: âLet me see, love. Let me take care of you.â
ăťOnce he notices that youâre leaning into his touch more and more, he starts teasing you mercilessly.
"Oh, now you have gone soft, now you whimper when I stop touching you!"
ăťAnd OBVIOUSLY, you aren't going to let that slide. So, you move out of his embrace and do not seek it out for some time.
ăťHowever... Uhtred didn't realise how much he needed your touch just as much (he would never admit it though)
ăťSo, he seeks you out and kisses your hand.
"You need this, little one. Now come here.â
đđđđđ
ăťOnce Finan figures out just how touch-starved you are, a terrible mistake has been made! Now you are never getting rid of him!
âYou were never meant to go without love. Never. And Iâll spend the rest of my life making sure you never do again.â
ăťFinan doesn't think much of it at first; he's a naturally touchy person; clapping people on the back, throwing an arm around shoulders, tugging at tunics etc,.
ăťBut when he notices little things about you, for example: How you lean into his touches, watching longingly at others who so freely express their feelings through touch.
ăťHe sees the flash of hurt, and sometimes jealousy.
ăťAnd once he puts two and two together...his heart crumbles, because he feels like he's let you down.
ăťFrom that moment on, he decided that this relationship just got a whole lot more clingier.
ăťThe next time he saw you, he ran up and spun you around, setting you down and giving you kiss. An arm moved to your waist and he kept you close.
ăťNow, he always keeps you close. No matter where you are. He'll have an arm around your shoulders when you're walking. A hand on your knee when you sit together.
ăťEven pulls you onto his lap - at every chance he gets.
ăťWhenever he feels you pulling away, he says:
âIf I go even a single hour without touching you, I fear I may wither away and die. Do you want my death on your hands, love? Do you?â
đşđđđđđđ
ăťSihtric notices before you even realise it yourself
ăťHe's always watching you; you are his afterall.
ăťAnd he noticed that every time he puts a hand on your waist, you lean into it, when you hug - you're never the first to pull away.
ăťOnce he sees just how much you crave romantic touch, but are too hesitant to ask for it...he makes sure that it becomes apart of your daily life.
ăťFor example: when youâre sitting by the fire, he casually tugs your legs over his lap, when you're together, you are connected somehow i.e., holding hands, playing with hair, sitting on his lap.
ăťAnd you know what, Sihtric is NOT the freely affectionate type. However you? You are the exception:
âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
ăťBecause of this, a thought found its way into Sihtric...maybe he was touch-starved too?
ăťBecause he holds you like he's afraid to let go. He wasn't raised with affection and kindness. Hugs seemed like some sort of sign of respect. So, he felt he did not deserve them.
ăťBut coming to know that you connect with that thought made him want to weep. Because you deserve everything.
ăťAnd Sihtric, being Sihtric, he becomes attuned to your every movements.
ăťSo when it comes to you? He notices every single time you crave touch.
ăťAnd he acts accordingly. With him, you never feel unloved, or unworthy.
ăťSihtric makes you feel like the most important person in the world.
âYou feel like home.â
đśđđđđđđ
ăťAt first, Osferth doesnât notice. Not because heâs oblivious, but because heâs so used to restraining himself.
ăťBut when he finally realises, everything changes.
ăťAnd suddenly, you have a shadow who refuses to leave your side.
ăťThe moment he realises it, was a complete accident. You're both in front of the fire, and exhaustion creeps up on you. And you fall asleep.
ăťOsferth, has no idea what to do. At first, he freezes. Then he realizes...you trust him enough to let your guard down. To fall asleep and do so on him, with your head in his lap, and hand gripping his wrist.
ăťTouch for Osferth makes his heart beat like nothing else has. And it's all to do with you:
âI donât think Iâve ever wanted anything the way I want you.â
ăťIt nearly knocks the breath from his lungs. He feels so needed.
ăťHe doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he's slow about introducing more touch.
ăťI.e., a lingering hand on your wrist when he helps you up, a brush of his fingers against yours when he hands you something, his shoulder pressing against yours when you sit together.
ăťOsferth never thought he was the possessive type. But one day, someone got too close to you. Too touchy, too flirty.
ăťAnd suddenly Osferth's hand is on your waist, tugging you back against him.
"I suggest you leave. Now." And he says it with such conviction, you think he might actually start a fight...
ăťNow Osferth craves this touch just as much as you.
âI hope you never stop reaching for me.â
đşđđđđđđđđ
ăťThe moment he figures out you crave touch, specifically his touch, he becomes extremely territorial.
ăťHis attention rarely leaves you.
ăťAnd he starts touching you effortlessly.
ăťWhen you sit next to him, his arm is draped over the back of your seat, trails his fingers down your arm absentmindedly, cups the back of your neck when he talks to you etc,.
ăťThis one time, he noticed how much you wanted to touch him but you were hesitating. Sigtryggr did not like that.
ăťHe leant close and whispered in your ear:
âYou want something, little one? Take it.â
ăťFrom then on you felt comfortable showing your affection, and being open about the need for it as well.
ăťFor a long time, Sigtryggr tells himself this is all about you.
ăťThat heâs just giving you what you need.
ăťBut then he starts to notice:
How he sleeps better when youâre curled against him.
How he misses your warmth when youâre gone too long.
How his hands itch to touch you when youâre too far away.
âI donât just touch you because you need it. I do it because I like it.â
Prompt: cockwarming
Word count: 1500
Reader: afab (reader has a vagina and breasts), no pronouns, reader gets called 'love'
Cw: domestic fluff, domestic smut, lazy morning sex, cockwarming cause why move, established relationship, voice kink if you squint, teasing from both partners
minors / ageless blogs interacting will be blocked
The curtains werenât fully closed.Â
Itâs the first thing you notice in the morning, as a bright ray of sunlight manages to shine right onto your face, making you wake up at the bright yet warm sensation. The light gives your room somewhat of a cozy feeling, and you shift slightly, leaning into Toji a bit more.
He is lying behind you, one leg draped around one of yours and an arm loosely around your midsection. He makes a soft grumbling noise, a sign that he is awake as well -though barely.Â
You make no attempts to move anymore, perfectly content with how youâve settled in. You donât have to work, and neither does he, so you can actually enjoy the absence of your alarm clock and settle in, enjoy the proximity, the cuddle, the intimacy, the-Â
âGood morning.âÂ
Toji interrupts your thoughts with a squeeze of his arm and his deep, gruff morning voice close to your ear. It tickles a little, and you chuckle.Â
âMorning Tojiâ, you mumble back, shifting again, so you can place a kiss on his arm. He murmurs an inaudible answer, and you close your eyes again, ready to rest just a little more.Â
You feel yourself slipping away, while you feel Toji shift a bit- and then again. You smile at the way he grumbles a little, seemingly dissatisfied with the way he cannot seem to find a good position to continue resting in. Eventually he readjust you a little, pulling you even more into him, and you chuckle quietly.Â
It is completely silent for a while, just your breathing, in sync with Tojiâs. Youâre feeling your eyelids grow heavy when you feel his hand wander a bit, shifting from holding you close with his arm around your waist, to a little lower, where the hem of your oversized t-shirt is. You take in a deeper breath when he slips his hand underneath it, resting it on your skin there, not yet moving.Â
For a second you think he just wants to enjoy the feeling of you, skin on skin, the way he gently rubs his thumb but doesnât move his hand just yet. But then he does let his hand wander, until it rests right underneath your breast, and you know just what is coming.Â
You let out a small, content sigh, a silent sign for him that what he is doing is okay, but that he will have to work a bit to get you in the mood. You were enjoying a little extra time for sleeping, after all. Maybe youâd make it a bit of a challenge, you knew he would enjoy that if you didnât push it too far.Â
It takes a while for him to continue moving though. His breathing is deep and even, as if he himself isnât entirely sure whether heâs in need of more sleep or up for a round of lazy morning sex. You arenât exactly sure of what you want either, shimmying your body to press into him, settling in again.Â
You would have been able to do so, if it werenât for the obvious hardness pressing into your thigh. You couldnât help but grin a little at the way his breathing hitched the second you accidentally grinded on him, and snickered when it happened again when you repeated the motion -not so accidentally.Â
âTeaseâ
His tone was accusing, but you could hear the way he was smiling while saying it, and you couldnât help but smirk in response. He matched your energy though, letting his hand slide up, playfully fondling your chest, letting the pads of his fingers glide over your nipples as he felt them harden under his touch.Â
You couldnât help but arch your back into his gentle, lazy touches. He took his time mapping out your upper body, as if he didnât already know it by heart. There was a tenderness to it all, and you closed your eyes in bliss. You would be perfectly content laying like this all day, but you did feel Toji growing a little impatient, as his touches became more intense, precise and needy.Â
You felt him moving his hips ever so slightly, rocking his clothed erection against your back, enjoying some friction. You knew that soon enough just friction wouldnât be enough for him anymore.Â
âHow about you just put it in?âÂ
"Eh?"Â
The way his voice rose slightly in pitch at his surprise made you giggle. You werenât sure if he was genuinely surprised, or if he just hadnât heard you properly with his mind clouded half by sleep and half by want. Either way, his reaction entertained you, and you just stayed quiet for a bit while he fully processed what you had said.Â
âYou serious?âÂ
âHmhmmâ Â you muse, nodding your head slightly as you readjust it on your pillow. He chuckles, a deep rumble that you feel reverberating against your back.Â
âBold on this beautiful morning, are ya?â itâs the longest sentence heâs said so far, and the first proper display of his morning voice. The timbre helps turn you on more than any of his touches so far do. If you could bathe in that voice, you would.Â
Youâd almost think with him asking so many questions was a sign of him not being too eager, but the opposite was true. He just wanted to make it a game as much as you were.Â
His hand let go of your breast and slid down over your tummy, effortless dipping beneath the waistband of the shorts you were wearing -stolen from his side of your shared closet. His fingers danced playfully along the fabric of your panties, touching you just about everywhere but the places where you needed him.
You shifted a bit, an attempt to make him touch you better, and he chuckled right next to your ear, the feeling of his lips on your earlobe sending shivers down your spine.Â
âSo eager, hmm? Whereâs all the teasing gone?âÂ
You were about to reply when he pressed one finger to your clit, finding the spot so effortlessly, rubbing lazy circles over your panties. Your hips bucked up into his touch by reflex, and you let the softest whine escape your lips. He was right, he had somehow managed to turn the tables on you, though you were much too stubborn to ever admit to that.Â
âToji..âÂ
It came out much more needy than you had anticipated, and he just laughed again, but he did comply by now moving his hand underneath your panties, touching you with long, slow strokes. He circled your clit a few times, before sliding his finger down between your folds, towards your entrance. The arousal that had built up and gathered until now made this all unsurprisingly easy for him, but he couldnât help but comment on it as he slipped one finger into your core.Â
âLooks like I wonât have too much effort âjust putting it inâ, hmm?â You could hear his smirk in his tone, but you cut off your own reply with a moan when he curled his finger inside of you just right. Oh how you were looking forward to the next step.Â
Toji didnât make you wait too long, pulling his hand back all too sudden and readjusting you. It never ceased to amaze you how effortless his strength was. Lifting you up by the hips to slide down the shorts just enough, pushing your leg up and your panties to the side- it was only a matter of seconds before his tip was prodding at your entrance and you both let out a breathy moan as he pushed in -agonizingly slow.Â
He filled you up so nicely, he always did, and the sensation of you stretching out over him was one youâd never not welcome. You groaned quietly, and Toji wrapped an arm around you, pulling you back into him, and down onto him some more. Your slick lubricated him just enough for him to bottom out without too much effort, and that was where he stayed.Â
âYou feel fantastic, loveâ, he mumbled against the skin of your neck, placing a soft kiss as he slipped the arm that was wrapped around you again underneath your shirt once more. You hummed in response, unsure if you wanted to agree, or tell him to move after all.Â
It was quiet for a bit while you both settled into the sheets again, the silence only broken by your soft moans and whimpers every time one of you shifted to readjust, the slightest movement making his cock throb and you felt it every time.Â
âToji.. please.âÂ
âBegging already?âÂ
You huffed in response. He interrupted you before you could properly respond, talking as if you had just told him to get up instead of make love to you. You could hear the smile and teasing edge to his tone.Â
Nanami was all business. Youâd expected a stressful and frankly dry work culture from as soon as youâd found out youâd be his assistant. His frequent skipped breaks and penchant for turning down any invitation for lunchtime drinks had well and truly secured his reputation of being the Office Bore. Any rumor of others having even an elevator chat with him was brushed off as exaggerating him talking at them briefly. Over your time working with him youâd come to refer to his work demeanor as brusque at best. The advice he gave was generally needed and always very sound, but youâd get nothing more and nothing less from Nanami. In fact your coworkers counted him saying good morning to you as being close enough to a compliment on your work ethic.
How stunned they would all be though to learn that once work hours had finished, Nanami was much, much less cold with you. In actuality, many an after work and out of office encounter between the two of you concluded with his head between your legs as he whispered words right against your core about how your work attire, while appropriate, had driven him mad all day. Not that youâd have noticed.
No one would ever catch Nanami glancing at your ass as you walk away, reports in hand. No one would ever see him clenching his jaw as you bent over next to him to point to something on his computer screen. They especially would never notice the way his mouth tensed while you spoke about where he was in terms of his quarterly goals, his mind as much on the all nighters he might have to pull closer to Q2 as it was on the way your soft lips parted to deliver the unpleasant news of his higher ups and their unrealistic expectations.
Even your steadfast salaryman has a breaking point though, and when he came back to the office one day after quickly stepping out to grab his usual lunch you could sense a change in him. Though he was tired, as he always was lately from the stress of his job, his face was no longer marred with the usual annoyance at the meaningless nature of your work. His lighter steps are punctuated by the small brown bag containing his lunch of choice being dropped heavily onto his desk.
âNanami, are you okay?â
Your question is brushed off as he shuts and locks the door, muffling the chatter outside of your shared office. He turns to where you were sat at your small desk in the corner, very much confused by this strange and sudden change in a man who had always been very much a constant known variable in your work life.
âIâll be putting in my two weeks notice tomorrow.â
Your stomach drops, Nanami has more or less put you through the ringer as his assistant, and you knew because of that you could handle anyone you were told to work with in his absence, but him abandoning your workplace felt somehow like he was also abandoning you.
Whatever concerns you have seem to not be on Nanamiâs radar as he curtails your growing sum of worries with a request, given to you with the same polite but stern tone as him asking you to fax forms for a new client.
âCome here.â
It doesnât occur to you to do anything but be the good little assistant youâd always been as you stand and walk round your desk to take your place in front of him.
His next words serve to shatter any small sense of normalcy heâd just given you, though his casual tone remains. âGet on your knees.â
Itâs not the first time heâs said those words to you, but it is the first time heâs said them anywhere within the vicinity of the office building. You arenât sure how to react, but your mouth moves faster than your mind, âNanami, itâs 12:45...â
âIâm aware.â
His brows raise in a way that lets you know he has no intention of repeating himself. Either you follow orders, or you donât. Youâve always been dedicated to your work though, so slowly you lower yourself onto your knees, looking up at your superior and feeling a warmth spread through your body not unlike the first time heâd shown his blatant interest in you, although this was different. This was during work hours.
He brings a hand to your face, thumb gently grazing over your pursed lips, other hand resting on his belt.
â the liturgy: (summary) Even the most pious of men succumb to temptation and Father Kento is no exception... especially when it comes to you. (Priest!Nanami POV)
â the confession: (tw) dark themes, sacrilege, adultery, blasphemy, jealously, exhibitionism, blackmail/manipulation, heavy biblical references, cunnalingus, fingering, riding dick, shoe fucking, blow jobs, panty sniffing, olfactophilia, dacryphilia, lightly suggested altarboy!yuji (aged-up) x reader, oil tycoon!gojo x reader, suggested mentions of reader x other jjk men, corruption, masturbation and angst as you are literally tormenting this poor priest (lol).
â the sins: (wc) 4.1k
â the opening rites:(a/n) i grew up catholic (got confirmed too) and went to catholic school but haven't stepped inside a church in literal years. i was honestly surprised how many bible references came so easily from pure memory while writing this.
Sanctified conviction radiates off Father Kento as he approaches the inordinately adorned wood carved pulpit with authority to address his congregation.Â
Despite the uncomfortable Summer heat there is no lack of attendance, a sea of familiar faces packed into the small town chapel. The buzzing song of cicadas and soft oscillation of the large fan circulating humid air through the church are the only sounds heard as the masses eagerly await his homily.
You were among them of course.Â
Sitting front and centerâ a small saccharine smile graced your lips while your doe-like eyes, captivated and attentive, were made even bigger as they raised to the podium to meet his own.
Bible open, Father Kento takes a full breath pause before he finally speaks, his gaze is benevolent yet his voice is firm as it projects over the congregation.Â
âDear Brothers and Sistersâ Let us reflect on the gospel of First Corinthians Chapter 10 Verse 13âŚand The Lord saysâ âThere hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to manââ
Oh but youâ you were anything but commonâ and irregardless of any higher standing his status as a clergy member bestowed upon him he was still a man of flesh and blood.
No matter the effort exerted, Father Kento had been unable to keep his eyes from yours during the service. The magnetism of unknown and certainly unholy forces drew him to you time and again without fail.
No beauty in town rivaled yours, not with an angelic countenance that complemented your delicate features so gracefully in your every action.Â
Yours was a form of divine femininity rivaling that of Venus herself.Â
If that wasnât beguiling enough, your honeyed voice and syrupy words had the ability to sway even the most feral of temperaments. Leaving those who heard it at your mercy like a gentle but deadly siren.
ââbut God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are ableââ
Is God faithful?Â
Ironic how you had Father Kento questioning the very foundations of his own faith while simultaneously indoctrinating Godâs dogma to his faithful parishioners. Â
If you were a test he had failed.Â
Many times.
Even the first man, Adam, had fallen to Eveâs allures and not even the warrior strength of Samson was able to overcome Delilahâs seductions.Â
Who was he to prevail where the biblical idols had fallen?
What actual grace could God give man against the sensual temptation that he had carved from manâs own rib?Â
Father Kento had felt forsaken of Godâs grace ever since you had approached him after mass to quietly request the rites of confession. He should have refused when you kindly solicited him to perform them in the cooler confines of the secluded rectory over the oven-like heat of a chapel confessional box in summer.Â
Led astray so effortlessly by your genial charms as you looked to him like a lamb lost and addressed him so meekly as âFather Kentoâ. He would have just as easily given you access to heaven then if it were in his power.
Yet it was you who had so graciously led him to the gates of Zionâ which so conveniently happened to reside in the velvety depths between your thighs.Â
Consequently, the only sins that were confessed in the rectory that day were the moist squelches of your peach-ripened pussy gushing around his cock and coalescing with the frenzied sounds of hot flesh slapping together in unison.Â
A child of Lilth incarnate to be sure but you looked so pure and celestial, even in ecstasy.
Hair matted to the sides of your face drenched in sweat while your nimble hands clutched onto his clerical collar. Your eyes filled with such loving devotion and you rode him earnestly as if it was your lifeâs penance.Â
Father Kento in turn gives you his absolution by taking you from behind. The swell of your plump rear rippling against his hips and shared fluids splashing onto his hard abdomen feverishly drive him closer to God than heâd ever been.
Yes, he is weak.Â
But Father Kento held the conviction that not even The Vicar of Christ, the Pope himself would be able to resist the vice grip of your silken cunt as if its true purpose was never to bear life but to wring out the very essence of the soul of man.Â
Heâd fallen prey to a day-walking succubus on hallowed holy grounds.Â
Noâ Father Kento was certain if this church had ever truly been blessed as a house of God you would have caught aflame the moment you graced its threshold.Â
ââbut will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye are able to bear itâ.â
Father Kento concluded the passage. Nonetheless, neither it nor any other doctrine had provided him the solace of escape and nor biblical strength did he receive to endure against his temptations.
There was no resisting you.Â
There was no escaping you.Â
For anyone you cast your sights on.
This is exemplified by the obvious effect you have on the young alter boy Yuji.Â
Barely old enough to be called a man, the youth's entire body flinches whenever you spare a sweet glance in his direction.Â
Has Yujiâs innocence already been stolen?Â
Father Kento must quell the inkling of jealousy at the thought lest he stumble over his words and shame himself further.
He was a man in every sense of the word and a man of the cloth, he would not compete for your adulterous affections with his own altar boy.
Even so, Father Kentoâs lip does curl in disapproval at the deep flush of guilt on Yujiâs cheeks. Yuji clumsily trips over his own feet, nearly permitting the blessed vessels for the rites of eucharist to fall to the ground.
Harlot! Have you really allowed someone other than himself to bathe in the sins of Jezebel?
Maintaining composure through his sermon, Father Kento reminds himself that an inexperienced youth is no threat.Â
However it is more than likely Yujiâ who normally is so oblivious in natureâ had likewise become aware of the wicked exhibition of sacrilege occurring beneath the prayer cloth in your lap at the very hands of your own husbandâ Satoru Gojo.
âSo you may ask where does that leave us as followers of Christ? Temptations lure us into doing, saying or thinking something that does not reflect who we really are as sons and daughters of God.â
Neither you nor your husband were Christâs children so none of these ideologies applied to either of you.
Nefarious philistines the both of youâ godless and immoral.
Although Father Kento was for certain your husband, Oil Tycoon, Satoru Gojoâ was the only one whose deeds could put yours to shame.Â
The white haired devil had descended upon the quiet small town like a thief in the night to greedily capture the first few drops of black gold that surged from the earth before it could even fall to the ground. Quickly buying up land and resources, in less than a fortnight Gojo essentially had control over the entire townâ its priest included.
But as he became more wealthy, so did the town and its people. Satoru Gojo built up the town around him to match his own gluttony for opulence, taking the town and its people away from simple old time comforts and into the more complex modern age.Â
Therefore the man was seen as a saintly savior, rather than the lecherous leech he truly was.
To Father Kentoâs credit, if he deserved any at allâ he had initially held strong in his faith.Â
He was not a man tempted by the power that would come from a promotion to bishop if a larger church was built. Nor was he tempted by monetary gain. The treasures he had always held most valuable were only those to be found in Godâs kingdom.
Familiar with the tricks masked by flamboyant arrays of grandior, Father Kentoâs folly had been his own headstrong vainglory in being a man above the lures of temptation. Thus he failed in recognizing you as the seductive snake in sheep's clothing the cunning tycoon Gojo had sent to be his undoing.
And you had never once failed to unravel him.
Even now Father Kento struggles to keep himself together as you inconspicuously lean against your husband, your head resting gently on his shoulder while the dainty fan you are holding obscures the lower half of your face.Â
What appears as an innocuous attempt to halt the perspiration rolling from your nape into your heaving bosom is merely a front to hide the sinful âoâ your cherry lips form.
Your chest softly heaves although your labored breaths arenât from the humid heat shrouding the churchâ but the increasing warmth dampening in your loins. All which had been provoked by your husband slipping two fingers through the buttons of your thin sundress and into your pussy, lightly teasing its gooey folds. Gojoâs movements are mostly concealed by the cloth but Father Kento can make out the skillful circular motions stroking your spongy bud and causing the sporadic twitch in your knees.Â
You had writhed similarly under him. You were always far too sensitive.
Fat tears would never fail to pour from your bright eyes when he would latch his mouth onto your sex. You would be his last supper if ever given the choice. If heaven had a flavor it would surely be akin to the taste of your pink candied cunt and he knew of no sweeter treat on earth.
Twas no wonder then how Father Kento easily loses all sense of self when flicking his tongue into your gaping slit. Swirling the appendage within your gummy walls he gluttonously slurps down the steady stream of your flowing nectar.Â
Your mewls and cries for him are far lovelier than even the song of cherubim. Father Kento has committed them to memory and as such he knows when they reach a certain octaveâ your pitch so high it's practically soundlessâ you're nearing your nirvana.
Arriving at your peak you would thread your hands through his blonde locks and thrust your hips forward as if his mouth were salvation itself. Your manicured nails would dig into his scalp to rock his head deeper into your plump pussy. The actions would beckon his tongue to finally give you its mercy by dragging it flat up your folds to suckle and nip at your swollen clit.
You never called on God then.Â
Nor your husband.Â
Only Father Kento.
Coincidentally, Father Kentoâs gaze locks with Gojoâs for a brief moment and Gojoâs pale lips curl into smirk.Â
A fleeting look is shared before contact is broke but the message is clear:Â
Satoru Gojo ownâs everything in this town.Â
Gojo owns your cunt.Â
Your cunt owns Father Kento.
Therefore by proxy Gojo owns him.
The revelation has Father Kento showing the white of his knuckles from the intensity of his grip on the pulpit podium as you simultaneously release a silent scream brazenly cumming on your husbandâs dexterous fingers in the middle of mass.Â
âThe time now is propitious for us all to make a journey of conversion, led by sincere faith to allow ourselves to be confronted with the Gospel. Let us confirm this commitment by sharing in The Body and The Blood of Christ.â
Proceeding with communion the altar boy Yuji stands next to Father Kento holding the tray where the blessed chalice of wine and platter of thin wafers reside as the congregation dutifully exits their rows to receive the eucharist.Â
As it is the more modern way to receive communion the majority of the congregation choses to place their non-dominant palm up over the other to respectfully receive the host. Yet traditionally, the priest placed the blessed wafer directly on the tongue of the one receiving. This practice was typically only seen by the elderly, the most exceedingly pious and of courseâ you.
When it is your turn to approach you beam brightly as you and all your beauty seem to float before him.
âThe Body of Christ.â
Father Kento raises the host before you.
âAmen.âÂ
You obediently replied.Â
Like expected your eyes fluttered to close as your pillowy lips parted in order to accept the host directly in your mouth.Â
God help him, this was the most sacred part of mass but the way your deviant tongue lulls out hot and thick with your saliva pooled on the edge and threatening to spill onto your lips has Father Kento shifting at his post.
You look just as compliant and yearning to receive as when you had been on your knees before him taking his cock in your mouth whole.
Father Kento delicately placed the host in your mouth in a similar fashion as to when he would tap the tip of his bulbous leaking cockhead onto your tongue.Â
So willing to please you kiss his angry red mushroom tip to appease his cock, swirling your tongue over the tiny hole before puckering it between your lips to greedily suck any drops of pre that dribbled forth as you pumped his base.
You were a tease.Â
That much was evident both then and now as you extended the tip of your tongue to caress the tip of his finger. A tiny kitten lick, but nevertheless a tingle ran through his cock in remembrance. Â
âThe Blood of Christ.â
Father Kento presents the wine symbolizing the blood before you.Â
âAmen.â
Again you closed your eyes and allowed Father Kento to press the chalice against your parted lips.Â
The very picture of amenability, you actually enjoyed when he went rougher on you as a result of your teasing. Father Kento would gather your hair into a tight grip as he not-so-gently rammed his cock past your tonsils and down your throat.Â
It was unnatural and ungodly for a person to lack any semblance of a gag reflex such as you.Â
In response you pressed your fingers into his thighsâ not as a means of resistance, but to control your own lust as you began shamelessly humping your mound against his leg. You were always desperate to feel any small sensation against your cunt while he ravaged your mouth.
Of course, Father Kento would oblige you and in turn he is rewarded with the heavy moans that would vibrate around his cock as his oxford loafer pushed up into your soaked core. Your white lace lingerie did little to contain your juices and as such Father Kento made use of the fluids leaking from your pussy as polish to shine his shoe.
Having sipped the wine from the chalice you peer up at Father Kento as if seeking his approval.Â
He gives you a small nod.Â
Similar to the one he bestows upon you after his seed has filled your stomach and you lick your lips as if it was his essence and not The Blood of Christ that lingered on them.
In the beginning, he had prayed long and hard to forget those sinful images of you that would intrude unwelcomed into his mind.Â
Yet you always had ways of sucking him back in.Â
Such as leaving your soiled panties stuffed between his headboard. Father Kento thought he was going mad when even after changing the sheets thrice was he still plagued with your smell.
He should have burned the offensive garment as soon as it was discovered and yet he treated it with reverence as if it were a holy object of salvation. Truly an euphoric experience, on days he couldnât have you heâd bury his nose into the fabric murmuring blasphemy as he worshiped the very scent of you while jerking his cock.
When Father Kento finally ceased trying to resist you he then had the fleeting thought he could save you. Bring you to God and away from your villainous husband.Â
But you were no Mary Magdalene, there was no returning you to the flock.
You will not leave your husband who provides you wealth and security. Father Kento is not so enamored he holds illusions that extend beyond his reality. There is nothing Father Kento owns and nothing he can offer you but himself.Â
The singular consolation of the tragic circumstances is that Father Kento is sure you prefer his touch. The touch of a seemingly pious man who only has desires for you.
Unlike your scoundrel of a husband who Father Kento was sure had not remained faithful to your marriage bed. Not the way most of the female townsfolk threw themselves at Satoru Gojo. If he had no qualms using you to achieve his means he certainly had none for himself.Â
You were simply a pawn to be played, as was Father Kento.
âBefore we depart I leave you with these words: Let every day be a new day to renew the promises of our Baptism: We renounce Satan and all his works and seductions â for shâ *ahem* HE â is the seducer. Now go forth, Brothers and Sisters and remain true in the light of God.â
The closing rites over, Father Kento has never been more relieved nor eager for the conclusion of a mass. Watching the congregation mingle in the entrance, he gives his farewell blessings to the parishioners.
A few still remained however you were nowhere to be seen.Â
This was not odd, the Gojos were a busy couple, likely excusing themselves immediately to attend to more important affairs.
Or so he hoped.
âThere you are, Father! Riveting service, as always.â
With a devious grin and a firm drawn-out handshake Gojo greets Father Kento. Turning to face the devil himself, Father Kento greets Satoru in turn with a strained smile and an even firmer grip.Â
Yet still he is unable to show you any of the wrath you justly deserve and Father Kentoâs smile is more genuine when he faces you. Â
You regard Father Kento coyly as your husbandâs arm tightens around your waist. Your face is flushed and itâs evident you are still weakened from the orgasm your husband gave you earlier in front of the entire congregation.Â
That knowledge though is only held by the three of you, God and perhaps the altar boy Yuji.
Father Kento had never known you to be silent when cumming so the exertion of the effort you expended likely weighed heavy on you as displayed by how you are clinging to Gojo to keep from swaying on your feet.Â
âThank you. I am but a humble messenger of The Lordâs worâ.â
ââ Wait. Hold that thought!â
Father Kentoâs eyebrow twitches as Gojo's attention is momentarily called elsewhere.Â
Every Sunday, a growing number of parishioners would seek Satoru Gojoâs greeting and recognition after service over that of their priest Father Kento.Â
True to character Gojo makes an obnoxious show of charisma which leaves the last group of parishioners fawning and singing his praises as they exit.
âForgive me, Father. Where were we? Ahâ Of course! Yes, you are quite excellent in your delivery of Godâs word, a true testament to your faith!â
His flattery is so obviously false in its sincerity that Father Kento is not surprised when Gojoâs sordid smirk returns.Â
âBut you are not only a messenger for The Lord⌠isnât that right, Father Kento?âÂ
Father Kento warily clutches onto the large cross dangling from the rosary around his neck as Gojo continues.
âIâll need you to spread mine as well. Havenât you heard? I have plans to run for Mayor.â
Mayor.
The diabolical fiend truly knew no limits in his quest for control over the town.Â
âIâll need you to come over to dinner tonight to consult with the rest of my top supporters.â
Father Kento steeled himself..Â
There was nothing he could do to stop Satoru Gojo from being mayor but his infatuation with you aside, he could not walk straight into the lion's den to collude with heathens.Â
It would be the final nail in his coffin, Gojo would indeed own his soul.
âOh! Y/N is prepping a feast too⌠arenât you, angel?âÂ
Gojoâs grip on your waist trails lower to palm the fat of your ass and you clutch on to him tighter as you nod eagerly in agreement, biting your lip as his large hands knead into your cheeks through your wispy dress.Â
Your body is ever responsive to Gojoâs touch just like he trained you to be.
âI must refuse. I have duties here to attend, I couldnât possââ
âP-Please F-FatherâŚâ
And just like that your delicate voice cuts through his iron defenses like it were warm butter.
ââŚK-Kento, p-please come!â
Your request fumbles out of your lips as a cry as Gojoâs devilish fingers dip past your ass to prod at your cunt.
âYou heard her Father. She wants you to come. Break bread with us, you will be among friends. Friends who know how to share, yeah? Iâll even share a piece of her cream pie for dessert.âÂ
That had been the final straw. Gojo had gone too far this time.
You seeking him out was one matter but he would not allow Satoru Gojo of all people to dangle you in front of him like a master would dangle a treat to a dog.
âBegone, you foul heretic. I will not tolerate your mockery of me, this church nor God any longer.â
Commanding in his tone, Father Kento extends the cross of the rosary forward to Gojo as if he were casting a malevolent curse back down to hell.Â
Father Kento doesnât have the courage to look at you though, he canât. Not if he wants to take a triumphant stand against Satoru Gojo.
And so Father Kento closes his eyes and silently prays.Â
Immediately bored at such a devout display, Gojo sighs rolling his eyes.
âAlright, alright, Father. I get it. Whatever you say, jeez. Itâs not like I need your support to become mayorâ just thought it would be nice is all. â
Father Kento remains silent as he listens to both of your footsteps exit the church but not before Gojo stops at the doors, his cheerful voice taking on a dangerous edge.
âHeh, you know, not everyone in this town is as pious as you Father. Sheriff Fushiguro has never been one to turn down a stack of bills but Iâm sure tonight he would enjoy sharing in Y/Nâs creampie if you donât.â
Father Kentoâs eyes open to flash red with fury.
Having received a satisfactory enough reaction from the priest, Gojo grins wildly as your own eyes widen in shock at your husbandâs words.Â
Has Gojo only ever used you to manipulate him alone?Â
The thought remains as Father Kento doesnât miss the pleading gaze directed at him from over your shoulder as you are led out of the church.
Goddammitâ He couldnât let you fall into the brutish clutches of Toji Fushiguro.Â
Toji may have been the sheriff but he was well-known for his oafish demeanor and greasy womanizing ways.Â
NO! He mustnât think of you any longer.Â
Father Kento needs to clear his mind of you for good with prayer.
Prayer and solitude.
Deep prayer and extensive solitude was what he needed if he ever hoped to rise again to gain Godâs favor. He needed to call upon The Lordâs strength one last time to remain at the parish tonight and defy Gojoâs will.
Father Kento couldnât let the pleasures of flesh continue to manipulate the very fibers of his being in such a way.Â
The rosary still in his grasp Father Kento raises his hands close in prayer as a final call for Godâs mercy⌠and then it hits himâ wafting off his fingers, overwhelming his senses and igniting every nerve in his being.Â
The scent of your cunt.Â
The lingering perfume of your sinful drippings spilled on your husbandâs hand during mass had been transferred to his own when Gojo shook his hand and held it so firmly.
The bastard.Â
The rush hits him hard and he feels dizzy as his ears begin to ring. Vertigo overtakes Father Kento as he holds the offending hand out as if he had been poisoned.Â
Leaning back against a wall to gather himself, Father Kento realizes once the manic pounding coursing through his veins begins throbbing in his loins that heâs fated for damnation.
This is the moment heâd always dreaded although ironic with the simple acceptance of it he feels no despair.Â
Father Kentoâs conviction is finally clear as he is left with a singular truth that rang through his entire soul:
Whatever solace he would know, whatever peace he would have in this life, he would only find with his cock buried in the sweet embrace of your cunt.Â
â
Šblkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
â the closing rites: (a/n) hell is hot and it's surely my destination after writing this. i tried to leave it a little ambiguous to whether y/n is actually in-love with nanami or just a sex-crazed slut eager to use him at the request of her husband. i don't have a pt.2 planned just fyi as this is meant to be a oneshot. although i do need to write more nanami so i will take requests for him! but fair warning i am very slow i apologize.
also shout out to the amazing art i used for the gfx â art by mishwell
â REBLOG to be unburdened of your sins by Father Nanami but likes and comments are also appreciated!
upcoming: the nursery (yakuza!toji), please teach me! (ceo!gojo), request: teasing choso (college au), request: sukuna x blkreader, [none in any order as im at the mercy of my adhd lol]
Youâre My Religion- Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader
summaryâ what begins as a confession turns into a heated encounter at the altar with your motherâs priest. they say god forgives all but after this, youâre not so sure.
warningsâ EXPLICIT CONTENT. degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink, priest kink, unprotected sex, creampie, face fucking, face slapping, spanking, spitting, blasphemy, gaslighting, mentions of hell, mentions of drugs.
a/nâ written while listening to religion by lana del rey.
You stepped into the dimly lit church, your heels echoing off the stone floor, drawing the eyes of everyone already seated. Your mother sat in the front, her lips pressed into a tight line, her eyes narrowed in disapproval as they roamed over your outfit, lacy, white, and far too revealing for the sanctity of the place.
You could feel the heat of judgmental stares as you made your way forward. A white garter peeked out from beneath the hem of your dress, resting against your thigh like a silent rebellion. It wasnât just the dress; it was everything, your lateness, your attitude, your recent choices. Smoking behind the house had been the last straw for your mother, who was determined to have you confess your sins to Father Charlie Mayhew. Youâd done worse but she hadnât found out, might as well do as she asked.
Father Charlie stood at the altar, his presence imposing yet alluring. He was young for a priest, with sharp features softened by the flickering candlelight. His eyes briefly lingered on you as you approached, dark and inscrutable, before his expression returned to one of serene composure. His hands clasped in front of him, holding a Bible, as though the words inside it could shield him from whatever thoughts were swirling in his mind.
You slid into the pew beside your mother, her disapproval palpable. âYouâre going to talk to him after the service,â she whispered sharply, not even glancing your way. "You will confess and make things right."
You barely heard her. Your attention was fixed on Father Charlie. Something about the way he looked at you, even for just a second, made your pulse quicken.
He stood at the pulpit, his voice echoing through the quiet church as he continued his sermon. The congregation sat in attention, but his eyes kept flickering toward the front row, toward you. You sat beside your mother, legs crossed, the lacy white dress slipping higher as you adjusted in your seat.
His words wavered for a moment, his gaze slipping to where your dress had risen, revealing more of your thigh. You could feel his eyes on you, feel the subtle heat of his attention even from across the room. A wicked thought crept into your mind, and slowly, carefully, you parted your legs, revealing the scarlet lace of your thong.
For a brief moment, Father Charlieâs voice faltered. His eyes caught the sinful glimpse of red beneath your dress, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. His fingers tightened around the Bible, knuckles white as if he was trying to anchor himself to its holiness.
He paused, then spoke, his tone harder now, deliberate. âWe must be wary, brothers and sisters, of the dangers of lust, of temptation. Of the Jezebels who seek to lead good men astray with their wicked ways.â His words cut through the air like a blade, but his gaze briefly darted to you once more, betraying the battle raging beneath his composed exterior.
Your mother shifted beside you, her disapproving eyes narrowing as she looked over at you, suspicion flickering across her face. She didnât know what you had done, not fully, but she felt something was wrong. The sermon had taken an oddly personal tone, and she wasnât oblivious to it. You could feel her judgment creeping in, but it only fueled the excitement that stirred within you.
Father Charlie continued, though his words seemed to be more for himself now than the congregation. âWe must resist. Resist the lure of sin, no matter how enticing it may appear. For we know that the path of temptation only leads to destruction.â
As he spoke, his eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire room had disappeared. There was no congregation, no mother, no church. Only the two of you, caught in the tension that simmered between righteousness and desire.
As the sermon ended, Father Charlie closed his Bible, but the tension between you lingered in the air. You bit your lip, feeling his gaze burn into you even as he tried to avert his eyes. Throughout the sermon, you had kept your legs parted, teasing him, the red lace of your thong on full display. Heâd stolen glances, his composure faltering more than once, but somehow he had managed to make it through. Now, with the service over, the real test was about to begin.
Your mother, determined to show her righteousness, practically dragged you over to him. Her hand clutched your arm as she led you to the front of the church, where Father Charlie stood, his posture stiff and his expression carefully neutral.
âFather,â your mother began, her voice stern, "this is my daughter Y/N. Sheâs been...not of God lately. Iâve begged for her to come here so she can cleanse herself, confess her sins, and find her way back to the Lord.â
Father Charlieâs eyes flicked to yours for a brief second before he straightened, clasping his hands together. âI understand,â he said, his voice smooth and steady, though there was an undercurrent of something else, something darker, in his tone.
âSince she found her way into church late,â your mother added, giving you a pointed look, âI trust she can find her way back home. Keep her as long as you need, Father, until youâre sure sheâs, renewed.â Her eyes darted to your dress, her distaste clear, before she turned to leave.
As she walked away, you watched the door close behind her, leaving you alone with Father Charlie. He stood there, silent for a moment, before finally speaking. âConfession is a powerful thing,â he said, his voice quiet but firm. âIt requires honesty, humility. Are you ready to confess?â
You gave a slow, deliberate nod, your lips curling into a soft smile. âI think I have a lot to confess, Father.â Your voice was low, teasing, as you looked at him through your lashes.
His jaw tightened, but he motioned for you to follow him to the confessional booth. Once inside, he slid the screen between you, his silhouette barely visible through the latticework. âSpeak, my child,â he said, the formality of his words clashing with the tension between you. âConfess your sins, so that you may be forgiven.â
You hesitated for a moment, then decided to push further, testing the boundaries. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you said, your voice soft and sultry. âIâve been thinking wicked thoughts. Lustful thoughts.â
He was silent on the other side, but you could sense his tension, feel the weight of his conflicted desires.
âIâve done things, drugs, other things,â you continued, your tone growing more seductive. âThings I shouldnât. With people I shouldnât.â You shifted in your seat, your legs parting slightly, knowing full well he could sense it even if he couldnât see. âSometimes, I just canât help myself. The temptation is too strong.â
Father Charlie cleared his throat, clearly trying to maintain his composure. âTemptation is the Devilâs work," he said, though his voice wavered. "You must resist it.â
You bit your lip, leaning closer to the screen, your voice barely above a whisper. âBut what if I donât want to resist?â
There was silence. You could hear his breathing, shallow and uneven. His hand shifted, and you imagined him clenching his fists, fighting the very thing you were offering. âYou must,â he finally said, though it sounded more like a command to himself than to you.
You leaned back in your seat, a mischievous smile on your lips. âBut daddy, donât you want to help me?â
His breath hitched, and you knew you had him. At the same time you both exited the booth, his face looking flushed as he did.
As the tension grew between you and Charlie, your fingers brushed lightly over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath his clothes. You leaned in, close enough that your lips barely touched his ear. âDaddy,â you whispered, your voice filled with temptation, âIâve been such a bad girl. A dirty sinner. Punish me. Give me a preview of eternal punishment.â
His breath caught at your words, his hand grabbed your hair as he pulled you back to face him, his eyes dark with restrained desire. âYou donât know what you're asking for,â he growled, though his grip on you betrayed his true thoughts.
You smiled up at him, your lips curling in a teasing smile. âI think I do,â you murmured, arching your back to press against him, your hand slipping around his neck as you pulled him even closer. âRight here, in front of the cross, I donât care.â
Charlieâs eyes flicked toward the large cross behind you, but his gaze quickly returned to your lips, unable to resist the pull. âYouâre going to hell,â he muttered, before gripping your waist firmly, lifting you onto the altar as if he couldn't control his actions any longer.
Your legs parted naturally, and you wrapped them around his waist, pulling him in as his lips finally crashed against yours. The kiss was intense, filled with the heat of everything you both had been holding back. His hands roamed over your body, but even as he touched you, he still kept control.
âYou're such a bad girl,â he said between heated kisses, his voice low and commanding. âhere, of all places.â
You grinned against his lips. âI wanted you,â you admitted breathlessly, âand I knew you couldnât resist, I always get what I want.â
Charlieâs grip tightened, his hand moving to your throat in a possessive hold. âYou need to learn some discipline,â he growled, pulling you closer. âAnd Iâm the one to teach you.â
Your pulse raced as you felt his control over you grow. The cross behind you seemed to sway slightly, but all you could focus on was the fire between you. His hands were everywhere, and every touch made your breath catch, your desire building with each second.
âYou wanted to be bad?â he whispered harshly against your ear, his voice filled with both heat and command. âThen youâll have to take what comes with that.â
Before you could respond, the cross behind you shifted, tilting dangerously. You gasped, glancing back just in time to see it tumble forward, crashing to the ground. The loud thud echoed in the church, but neither of you moved, the sound only fueling the intensity between you.
With one final, wicked smirk, Charlie leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. âThereâs no turning back now.â
He shoved you to your knees and you ripped your thong off, your fingers dipping to your sopping pussy as he rid himself of his robes and presented himself bare in front of you. âSuck this priest cock,â he demanded. Without waiting for a reply, his cock was sent into the back of your throat making you gag.
âThatâs it little bitch,â he groaned, âtake whatever the fuck I give you.â
You took him in, your mouth working around him, your cheeks hollowing as you surrendered to his brutal rhythm.
âGood girl,â he praised, his voice thick with desire. âJust like that. Youâre doing so well.â The way he spoke made you want to please him even more, and you found yourself pushing back against him, eager for more.
But then he pulled back, looking down at you with a mixture of pride and mischief. âI think you need a little discipline,â he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips. Before you could respond he grabbed your hair and pulled you over his knee as he sat at the altar, he then delivered a sharp smack to your ass, making you gasp.
âDid you like that?â he asked, watching you closely. You nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. âI thought so,â he replied, his hand coming down again, the sound echoing in the church.
âLetâs see how many more you can take,â he taunted, giving you another hard spank, each one leaving a burning sensation behind. The mix of pleasure and pain made your head spin, and you found yourself craving more.
âDaddy,â you gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. âI can take it. I want more.â
âSuch a naughty whore,â he chuckled, the heat in his gaze intensifying. âBut Iâll give you what you want. Just remember, you asked for it.â
He placed a kiss on your ass before his hard hand came down again, causing you to yelp. He chuckled darkly at the sounds you made before he gripped your jaw, making you open your mouth and spat inside. He continued his assault on your ass whispering darkly to you.
âThis is what you like? Is this what whores like you enjoy? To be violated by their priest? Hmm?â
âY-yes father,â you moaned, feeling his sharp hand come down again, you werenât sure how much you could take but you didnât want to let him know.
âAlright whore, back on my cock, make me cum and maybe Iâll give you what you so desperately desire.â
As you knelt at the altar, the irony of the moment didnât escape you. Typically, this was a sacred space meant for prayer and reflection, a place where you sought forgiveness and guidance. But here you were, on your knees, not in a plea for redemption but in a silent prayer of your own worshipping the man who stood before you. Worshipping his big, thick, leaking cock. Thank God for him.
The flickering candlelight casted shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the way his lips curled into a smirk. You felt a thrill rush through you, knowing how wrong this was, yet wanting it more than anything.
âLook at you,â he said, his voice low and teasing. You got to work, spitting on his cock and taking him as deep as you could in your throat as tears left your eyes, as you did so he ripped your little dress off you making you gasp. The little sounds you made on his dick made him moan in pleasure. You continued sucking and not long after he held your head own as you gasped for air and came down your throat.
He clearly hadnât released in a long time because there were still small ropes of his cum he pumped onto your face. With a smack, his hand came down across your cheek then he spat on you, making you stick your tongue out.
âDisgusting whore, youâre fucking filthy, sent from the devil himself.â
âMake me yours then,â you panted and Father Charlie smiled down on you.
With a swift motion, Charlie gripped your waist, bending you over the altar. The cool wood pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building within you. You felt exposed, your heart racing as you heard him move behind you.
âLook at you,â he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. âSo willing to give yourself to me right here in Godâs house. I wonder what He would think of this.â
You could barely focus on his words as anticipation coursed through you. âI donât care,â you managed to reply, your voice breathless. âJust please, Father.â
He chuckled, positioning himself behind you, and for a moment, you felt the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. âYou might need to repent after this,â he teased, his tone playful yet filled with raw desire. âBut Iâm sure God will forgive me for what Iâm about to do, you, a fucking slut, not so much.â
You shivered, knowing this was all so wrong, yet feeling every bit of it was right for you. âJust take me,â you urged, your body craving his touch.
As he pushed into you, a loud gasp escaped your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and guilt flooding your senses. He was so deep inside your pussy, tearing you apart with a burning stretch. âHolyââ you started, but he interrupted.
ââThou shalt not commit fornication,ââ he quoted, almost mockingly. âBut weâre not fornicating, are we? Weâre just, exploring.â
You could only moan in response, the feeling of him filling you pushing all thoughts of right and wrong from your mind. âYes daddy,â you breathed, lost in the moment. âJust exploring.â
He began to move, his thrusts deep and steady. âYou know, sometimes the line between sin and pleasure is blurred,â he murmured. âBut I think weâre in good hands. God will forgive me, wonât He?â
âGod canât see us,â you managed to say between breaths, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.
âExactly,â he growled, picking up his pace. âAnd youâre going to come for me. Make it worth it, bitch.â
He slapped your ass harshly, making you moan and open your eyes to look at the holy water on the altar that fell to the ground and splashed on you. You could swear it burned your skin.
As the pleasure washed over you, the world around you faded, leaving only the sensation of Charlieâs body against yours. You felt yourself tightening around him, waves of ecstasy crashing through you until, with a final gasp, you came undone.
âGod, youâre beautiful when youâre like this,â he praised, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath for a moment before lifting you effortlessly. âNow, letâs take this to a more fitting spot.â
With that, he guided you toward the chair where the priest would usually sit, its authority mixed with your reckless abandon. He sat back, pulling you onto his lap in one smooth motion. The air was electric with anticipation, and you could see the flickering candles casting shadows around the room, the only witnesses to your sin.
âGet ready to worship,â he growled, guiding you down onto him. As you sank onto his length, a loud moan escaped your lips. The thrill of the position combined with the sinfulness of your surroundings sent a shiver down your spine.
âLook at you, taking me right here,â he said, gripping your hips. âYouâre my little slut, arenât you? Just my bitch to fuck.â
You nodded, feeling the words stir something deeper within you. âYes, Iâm yours,â you breathed, moving your hips to find your rhythm.
He thrusted up into you, each movement deliberate, as he leaned closer. âAnd you love it,â he stated with a smirk. âYou love being my temptation, my little distraction. If God didnât want me to be tempted, He wouldnât have created you for me to enjoy. This tight, wet, leaking pussy for me to enjoy.â
With each thrust, the sensation built, and you felt the heat of his words mingle with the heat of your bodies. âYouâre going to take all my cum inside you, arenât you?â he commanded, his tone a mix of dominance and desire. âYou want me to fill you up, to pump my cum into your tempting little pussy?â
âYes, father,â you gasped, your body responding to his every word. The sensation of him filling you pushed you closer to the edge once more.
Just then, the cross above you trembled, tilting ominously before falling upside down. A collective gasp echoed in your mind, but you were too lost in your desire to care. The flickering candles burst into flames, sending wisps of smoke into the air as if the universe itself was reacting to your sinful act.
âLook at that,â he chuckled darkly, his thrusts relentless. âEven God canât help but take notice of what weâre doing here.â
âJust donât stop,â you urged, feeling the intensity build again and tears fell from your eyes. The mix of danger and pleasure was intoxicating.
âNever,â he promised, his eyes dark with lust. âIâm going to fill you up, and youâre going to remember this forever.â
With a few final powerful thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, moaning your name as he released, filling you completely.
As the final waves of pleasure rolled through you, you both collapsed against each other, your bodies slick and exhausted. Breathing heavily, you felt the weight of the moment settle in. The reality of what just happened hung in the air, a mix of satisfaction and consequence.
Charlie pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. âYou know this is all your fault, right?â he murmured, his tone both teasing and dark. âYou tempted me, made me filthy.â
You shivered at the heat of his words, the intensity in his eyes igniting something deep within you. âI didnât make you do anything,â you replied, a challenge in your voice. âYou wanted this just as much as I did.â
He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. âOh, but thatâs where youâre wrong, sweetheart. You made it impossible for me to resist. Look at you, so innocent yet so depraved.â His fingers traced your cheek, a contrast of softness against the edge of his words. âYou walked into this church, dressed like a temptation itself, and now look where we are.â
His gaze flicked toward the now-upside-down cross, a symbol of your defiance. âYou should be ashamed, everyone would chastise you if you said anything,â he continued, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. âBut I know youâre not. You loved every second of it, just like I did.â
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. âMaybe I did,â you admitted, unable to hide the thrill coursing through you.
Charlie straightened up, adjusting his posture, the authoritative presence returning. âGood. Remember that when youâre here alone, naked and exposed.â He smirked, taking a step back, his eyes dark with desire. âYou think this is the last time Iâll see you? Youâre wrong. Youâre mine now. Your very being belongs to me. I am your God now.â
âYouâre my religion,â you whispered.
With that, he turned, walking away toward the back of the church, leaving you breathless and alone. You stared at the cross, the flickering candles around it now extinguished, a stark reminder of the boundary you had crossed.
Naked and vulnerable, you felt a mix of fear and exhilaration wash over you. The reality of your actions hung heavy in the air, but the thrill of the moment lingered in your veins.
Blessed Are The TemptedâFather Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader
summaryâ after partially denouncing your faith, you decide to make one last trip to see if you could feel a connection to it and God. all you left feeling was your new Godâs cum deep inside you. based on this request.
warningsâ sacrilege, blasphemy, father kink, daddy kink, Charlie being praised/referred to as God, objectification, ass slapping, mentions of bruises and welts, choking, face slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, spitting degrading kink, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.
a/nâ took a break from being depressed over finals to write this! working on the other requests so enjoy this while i take my time <3
The night was heavy, and your heels clicked loudly as you walked toward the church. Clad in a black skirt and a long black coat covering your bare skin underneath, your goth aesthetic stood out against the backdrop of the ancient stone structure. The heels you wore were intricately designed, each one featuring a subtle cross etched into the sideâa nod to the symbolism that had always intrigued you, even if youâd long since stopped believing.
As you approached the church, you noticed how still the world felt. There was something almost reverent about the emptiness, the silence that wrapped itself around the tall, pointed spires. You hadnât been here in ages. The heavy wooden door creaked as you pushed it open, the scent of incense lingering in the air, mixed with something else, something familiar.
You had called earlier, and the voice on the other end had been low, almost too smoothâCharlie. It stirred something in you, a curiosity, a feeling you hadnât realized you missed. Thatâs why you were here nowâone last chance to feel something, anything, before you walked away forever.
As you stepped inside, the cool air embraced you. You walked down the aisle, your heels making soft but deliberate sounds on the stone floor. Every step felt deliberate, as if you were walking toward a decision you hadnât fully made yet.
And then you saw him. Father Charlie, standing at the altar, watching you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His eyes followed you as you walked closer, and you could feel the weight of his gazeâthe same way you could feel the weight of everything that had led you here tonight.
âYou came,â he said, his voice smooth, but with an edge of something else you couldnât place. There was no judgment in his tone, just an acknowledgment of your presence, and something about that made you feel strangely seen.
âI did,â you said, standing just a few feet away from him now. The silence between you was heavy, but it was comfortable, as if you both knew there was something unspoken between youâsomething that neither of you were quite ready to voice.
You couldnât ignore the way his eyes lingered on your attire, how they traced the lines of your outfit, the crosses that hung from your neck. His gaze softened just slightly, and for a moment, you saw the human side of the man who had been your confessor.
âI didnât expect you to come back,â he admitted quietly, taking a step closer. His voice lowered as if he didnât want to disturb the sacred silence of the church. âWhat made you change your mind?â
You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him through your lashes, feeling the pull of something you couldnât quite name.
âI wanted to feel something,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes flashed with somethingâmaybe understanding, maybe surprise.
He nodded slowly and for a moment, you both stood there, suspended in time. Then, as if pulling back from the edge of something, he stepped away, but not before giving you one last lookâone that left a mark on you, something you couldnât shake off.
âWhatever you need, itâs here,â he said quietly, his voice almost a promise.
You werenât sure if you believed him, but for now, you didnât have to.
The church was quiet, except for the soft rustling of the pages as Father Charlie read aloud from the Bible. His voice echoed through the empty pews, each word heavy with the weight of ancient teachings. Your all-black attire, with its gothic undertones, felt almost out of place here, yet you couldnât shake the feeling that this place, this moment, was meant to answer something inside you.
Father Charlieâs voice broke through your thoughts. âBlessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,â he read, his eyes drifting up to meet yours. There was a tension in the air, an almost unspoken connection that lingered between you.
You tilted your head, stepping forward into the dim light. âTemptation,â you said softly, your voice playful yet tinged with a hint of challenge. âSo, blessed are the pure, huh? What about those who are tempted? Are they blessed too? Or is that only for the pure?â
He faltered, his gaze dropping slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, but he said nothing.
The silence hung heavy between you as you stepped closer. âYou preach about purity and grace, but what does it really mean?â you continued. âDoes the flesh have no place in this kingdom you speak of? Or is it something man-made to make us feel something?â Your voice had dropped, the edge now sharp and questioning.
Father Charlie didnât answer. His eyes were focused on the Bible in his hands, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. He was strugglingâhis faith, his beliefs, they all seemed to waver under your gaze. And that realization hit you hard. There was nothing here for you. The words he spoke, the symbols of faith, they meant little to you now. They were just constructs, meant to give people a sense of purpose, but you felt nothing.
A hollow laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. âYouâre pathetic,â you muttered under your breath, your gaze moving past him. âThis is all just a game, a way to make people feel like theyâre in control when theyâre not. You should know that.â
Father Charlieâs jaw clenched, his breath catching in his throat. âNot in the house of God,â he said, his voice low, filled with a mix of anger and frustration.
You took a step forward, your black coat sweeping around you as you moved. You could feel the tension building, the confrontation nearing its peak. You caught his gaze again, daring him to say more. âHouse of who?â you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. âWhat is He going to do about it?â
The space between you seemed to stretch, and in that moment, you knew. The boundary he had drawn, the one he believed in so firmly, meant nothing to you. You had turned away from it long ago, and now, it seemed almost laughable that he still clung to it.
The silence was thick, and for a moment, you both simply stood there, facing each other. You didnât need this place, nor the beliefs that it offered. Father Charlie seemed to sense that, his expression darkening as the tension between you only deepened. But you no longer cared. You had found your truth, and it didnât belong here. Not in this church, not in this faith. It made what you craved to do all the more daunting.
Slowly, with his eyes on you, you pulled your coat, revealing your bare skin underneath, your nipples only covered by a chain. The rosary hanging around your neck was a stark contrast to the sinful act youâd just committed.
In a blur of frustration and fury, he grabbed you by the hair, pulling you down to your knees on the cold marble floor. His voice was sharp as he demanded, âConfess. Beg for forgiveness for your blasphemy and sexual immorality.â
But you only smirked up at him, defiant. âPathetic,â you muttered, the word cutting through the air like a blade.
His fingers tightened in your curls, and his face was a mixture of conflict and control. âYouâre playing with fire,â he warned, his voice a low growl. âRepent, or youâll burn.â
âI donât have time for your fairytales, Iâll be doing no such thing, Father,â you chuckled, looking up at him with big doe eyes, âbut Iâd bet having a holy man like you all over me would make me holy too.â
âI rebuke the spirit of Jezebel inside you,â he bellowed.
You laughed, voice thick with mockery, âfuck it out of me, make me holy, Father.â
That was it, Father Charlie had enough. He grabbed you by the curls, pulling you to the sacred chair he would sit in during the sermons youâd come to for just five minutes max. He plopped down, frantically fumbling with his pants and belt.
âI only hope God will forgive me for what Iâm about to doâno, He will. Blessed are the tempted,â he muttered, looking to the cross above him.
Your eyes panned to how hard and thick he was. But you knew you could take him, youâd show him just how good temptation felt. Youâd have him crawling back for more. He was already aching for you, though the battle within himself did not waver.
The priest groaned as he shoved you onto his leaking cock, immediately hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. âThatâs right bitch, gag on it. This is what you wanted. This is what you get for being a temptress,â he groaned.
You moaned, doing your best to drag your tongue along his shaft as he used your hair to glide along it. He was not going easy on you, you knew he was trying to break you. Little did he know, you couldnât be broken, this was what you wanted.
He moved you to his balls, looking down at you with dark eyes as you took the sacks into your mouth then continued your assault on his shaft. As he went back to fucking your throat, you made sure your eyes were on him so he could see how he had you. Eyes teary, black mascara running down your cheeks, salvia and pre cum running down your chin and onto your boobs. You were completely at his mercy.
âDisgusting whore,â he moaned, as you spat onto his cock then glided your tongue over every inch of him, ây-youâre really enjoying this.â
âMmâ tell me more, tell me Iâm your dirty bitch,â you pleaded.
âFuck, youâre my dirty bitch, youâre my cock sucking bitch,â he gasped, bucking his hips as he was practically down your throat.
You suctioned your lips around him tightly, feeling the way he throbbed under the touch of your soft hands squeezing his balls. They tightened as he tipped his head back, staring up at the cross and you could feel how close he was.
âCum for me daddy,â you moaned, bobbing your head as your dark eyes pierced into at him.
âFucking hell,â he gasped at the nickname you gave him.
He couldnât hold back even if he tried, as you deep throated him, his warm seed spurted down your throat, his cock throbbing. He held you down onto him, your nose touching his pubic hair as you savored the taste of the holy manâs cum you had just swallowed.
No amount of post nut clarity could prevent him from aching for more. As he stared down at you on your knees for him, he knew he needed more. This wasnât sinfulâblessed were the tempted. Right?
You shrugged off your coat and the jewelry covering your nipples and pulled down your skirt, heat rippling through your body as Charlieâs eyes raked over your figure. Left in only your thigh high stockings and your cross heels, you sat on Charlieâs lap, your back facing him.
His hand instinctively went to wrap around your throat, while the other groped you, roughly. âI should have you stoned to death for what youâre doing to me,â he murmured.
âThen Iâll see you in hell when your time comes,â you retorted.
Your wit didnât last long as you felt two of his fingers plunge into you, and his hand tightened around your throat.
âYes daddy, finger fuck me in front of the altar,â you moaned.
His hand snapped across your cheek, causing your head to whip to the side. âYouâre enjoying this too much.â
You squirmed against him, feeling how his fingers stretched your walls. The sound of your wet pussy shamelessly filled the church causing pure desire to swell inside you. You were defiling this sacred space and this sacred man, the thought made your pussy even wetter.
âLook at you, look at what youâre forcing me to do to you,â Charlie sneered into your ear.
âIf thatâs what you tell yourself,â you chucked, earning another slap across the face.
âFucking whore, your pussy is leaking all over the chair,â he uttered.
His thumb circled your clit roughly as his other fingers curled inside you, toying with the spongy spot that had you screaming his title.
âFuckâ Father. Faster, harder, make me cum,â you moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder.
His fingers thrusted into you faster and his hand gripped your neck so tight, you couldnât breathe. âTake it bitch, this is what you wanted. This is what whores like you get.â
His efforts became too much and your body arched in his lap as your orgasm came crashing down. Your fluids spurted from your pussy, coating the floor the congregation would kneel on to pray. Charlie continued rubbing your clit, drawing every sound and every drop of your cum out of you.
âThatâs a good little whore, thatâs all youâre good for, being used like youâre nothing,â he cooed.
He brought his shaky fingers up to his lips, sucking your juices. âHow can a slut like you taste like Heaven?â
âItâs my blessing and your curse.â
Charlie held your body against him as he stood from the chair then he laid you down, shoving your face into the floor while your upper body was still pressed against him. He sat back down, slightly leaning over as he admired your body in an uncomfortable position all for his pleasure.
âI donât care if youâre in pain, youâre going to take whatever I give you and youâre going to praise me like Iâm your God,â he bellowed, âyouâve denounced Catholicism and now you will worship me.â
His grip on your hips was bruising, surely to leave dark bruises when he was finished with you. A gasp left your lips as he slammed into you, pulling you onto his cock at the same time.
âThank you Father, Iâ I worship you and praise you for everything you do to me,â you moaned.
You felt his cock throb inside you at your words. Hell would definitely be his resting place. You held up your body by your hands as Charlie slid in and out of you like an animal. He slapped your ass, welts slowly beginning to form as he moaned at the sight of his shaft being covered in your cream.
âThat feels so good daddy, please. Hit me again, Iâm just your servant, a vessel for you to use and fuck,â you cried.
âThatâs right bitch, youâre nothing. You.are.nothing,â he growled, each word emphasized by a hard thrust into you and slaps on your ass.
You did your best to bounce on his cock as you felt the lingering stings from his hand coming down on you.
âYour ass looks so much better getting all marked up from my hand,â he chuckled, his hips snapping to meet you even faster.
All you could do was moan, your pussy fluttering around his length from how wrong it was to have him defile you in his church.
âDaddy, Iâ Iâm gonna cum,â you cried, âplease let me cum, oh God, my God, please let me cum.â
âCum all over your Godâs cock,â he muttered, his hand coming down on your ass with a stinging smack.
You shuddered underneath him, your pussy twitching as your orgasm overtook you. He reached under, rubbing circles on your clit as you squirmed and thanked him for giving you permission to cum.
As soon as you came down from your high, he pulled you up by your curls and shoved you into the seat to take his position.
âSpread your fucking legs whore, I know itâs what you do best.â
Who were you to disobey your God? You spread your legs for him, each hanging over the arm of the chair and he watched in awe as your fluids glistened on your pussy, leaking to your asshole and your thigh highs smeared.
His hand slipped around your throat and he thrusted into you harshly, giving you no time to adjust to his size in this new position. You cried out, struggling to breathe and take his assault on you.
âShut the fuck up, this is what you wanted, youâre an object and a whore, so you will be treated as such,â he groaned, squeezing your throat tighter.
You wanted to be obedient and so, you spread your legs even wider, giving him free rein to tear your pussy apart.
âT-thank you Father, thank you for fucking me,â you stammered.
He moaned, watching his thick cock disappear inside you and seeing the outline of himself moving in your belly.
âOnly your God can be this deep inside you, slut,â he laughed in mockery.
He pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling as he pounded into you harshly. The sound of shameless skin slapping filled the church and you could already feel the coil in your abdomen tighten.
âShit, I can feel your wet pussy tightening around me, beg me to cum,â he muttered, still fucking into you, âbeg your God to cum.â
âPlease daddy, please God, I just want to be a good slut for you, please let me cum,â you begged, your eyes pleading.
He slapped the heavy tip on your clit and that was all it took for your juices to begin squirting all over him as your orgasm came down upon you. Your pussy twitched and he leaned down, sucking as you squirted then squeezed your jaw open to spit it into your mouth.
âSwallow it like a good slut.â You did as you were instructed to then stuck out your tongue, revealing to Charlie that you could be an obedient servant for him.
His hand was tangled in your curls again as he dragged you, pulling you off the chair and taking your position.
âRide me. Ride my cock and show me how much you worship me,â he demanded.
Eager to please, you straddled him, making sure your legs were on either side of the chair, your heels clinking against it as you left your pussy at the mercy of his cock.
His hand snaked around your throat, gripping harshly as you slowly sank onto him. The new position made you feel as though he would rip you apart but you dared not to say anything. You just wanted to show him how obedient you could be to your God.
You lifted your body, gliding roughly up and down his cock while he thrusted up into you, increasing your pleasure.
âI love your cock, oh God, I love it so much, itâs so perfect, youâre so perfect,â you whimpered, as he continuously slammed into your cervix and the sweet spot inside you all at once.
âThatâs it bitch, Iâm your perfect God, all for you to worship and be used by.â
Your head fell forward on his shoulder, your pussy still grinding and bouncing on him but he pushed you back and slapped you hard across the cheek.
âYouâre going to look at your God while he fucks you, keep your fucking head up,â he growled.
âYes daddy, anything for you,â you croaked out.
Your heart and pussy fluttered as he smiled at you, his rough pace not faltering as he met your bounces with harsh thrusts. With his hand still around your neck, he leaned down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples. You arched into him, grinding on his cock and giving your clit the attention it ached for as he continued increasing your pleasure.
You could feel how Charlie throbbed and twitched inside you, he was just as close as you were.
âDaddy, please cum with me, please breed me,â you begged, âletâs make the anti-christ.â
Charlieâs jaw fell agape at your filthy words, breathy moans leaving his lips and he pounded into you hard, chasing his orgasm.
Your pace faltered but his didnât and you cried out as you pussy creamed and squirted all over his cock. His orgasm followed and he held you down onto him, ropes of his warm load spurting deep inside you, surely to impregnate you and create the anti-christ you so desperately wanted to mother.
His forehead pressed against yours and you stared into each otherâs eyes as you came.
âThank you Father, thank you God for using me.â
a/n: omg!! sorry this took so long I had crazy writers block all the sudden but I hope you enjoy it!!! (o^^o) Iâm going to try to write the first chapter to my OsferthxOC fic before starting my other requests so be on the lookout for that!! :3c
requested by - @slytherincursebreaker
It was no secret that Osferth was a kind lord, often treating his servants fairly and giving them generous pay.Â
Some might be shocked to find out that the ex-monk had taken one of his sweet little servants to be his bed warmer.
And what a pretty thing she was. He would often wake up first just to simply admire her before she slipped away so as not to be discovered by anyone.Â
âOsferth...â a quiet, wispy voice pierces through his thoughts.Â
His orbs are focusing on hers as they peak through her lashes like how the sun currently peaks over the horizon.Â
âI told you to wake me if I slept too long,â his eyes never leaving her frame as she sat up with a stretch, her own eyes searching the room for her clothes.Â
âYou were pretty tired after last night, so I thought Iâd let you sleep,â he responded as his fingertips gently glide across her back.
She rolls her eyes, a smile forming on her face as she stands up.Â
âstay,âÂ
It wasnât a command from her lord but rather a plea from a man who felt nothing but love for the maiden who had just left his bed.Â
âI cannot,â she simply says as she begins collecting her clothes. âYou know this.âÂ
âSurely a few more minutes wouldnât hurt?â
His sweet little secret laughs as she slips on her clothes. âSee you at breakfast, my lord.â
Osferth slumps back down against the pillow, a sigh escaping his lips as she leaves the room.Â
Your day was the same as the last, and the last like the day before. You had a routine that more often than not involved waking up in your lord's bed.
Wake up, help prepare breakfast, serve breakfast, clean, occasionally keep Lord osferth company, sleep, and repeat.
That was your schedule, one that you hoped would never change.Â
You were often one of the first people in the kitchen; most just assumed you to be eager to please their lord, and they were right in a sense, just not in that way.Â
Occasionally, youâd break your daily routine to help the new servants with their tasks, helping them get the hang of things before going back to whatever your task was.
Some thought you were a pushover, doing whatever was asked of you, but you were simply returning the favor that was given to you by one of the older serving ladies who worked there before you; her name was Olga.
You often worked with her in the kitchen, much like you were now.Â
âLord Osferth seems to have taken a liking to you,â Olga teases as she prepares one of the dishes. Olga was a kind old lady, but she was rather nosy and loved to gossip.Â
âwhat?â You shake your head. âNo, he hasnât,â you deny. âHeâs just nice." You thought for a moment that Olga was suspecting something, that perhaps you and Osferth hadnât been as careful as you two thought.Â
âHeâs nice to everyone, darling, but he doesnât undress them with his eyes." Olga points at you with the spoon in her hand, making a suggestive face.
âOlga!â You gasp with a laugh. âLord Osferth is a kind man; he wouldnât do that.â
âEvery man does it,â the older woman shrugs. âLook, when you go out there, watch his eyes; youâll see they never leave you, not once!â
You donât reply to the old maid, simply taking the plate from her and making your way out of the kitchen with Olgaâs words fresh on your mind.Â
Surely she wasnât right; you were just his bed warmer, not that Olga knew that...hopefully.
You pulled yourself away from your thoughts as you approached the table.
âEnjoy your breakfast, Lord,â you say softly as you place his plate down, sparing him a glance.
He had already been looking at you; had he been looking at you the whole time, like Olga said? The thought made you smile.Â
His own lips curling into a smile as you retreat into the kitchen, his eyes never once leaving you.Â
You woke up with an uncomfortable tension building up in your throat, your face scrunching up as you hold back a gag.Â
You clumsily wrap a thin robe around yourself as you make haste to find a bucket.Â
Whether it was your harsh stumbling into the bathroom or you emptying all the food you ate that day into the bucket that woke up a few of the other servants, you werenât sure, but you were thankful as one of the girls moved your hair out of the way as you threw up.Â
This happened several times over the past week; youâd throw up just before the sun came out, then get dressed and get to work.Â
You feared you came down with the sickness; you prayed that wasn't the case and your prayers would be answered.Â
âI fear you may be pregnant,â Olga had said.
âwhat?â Your eyes move away from the bowl you had been mixing, over to the older maid.
"No, I am not," I can't be pregnant, the phrase repeated in your mind like a begging tune.Â
âYouâre questioning a woman who's given birth to three children; I think I would know, darling." She said more, but you werenât listening anymore. Quickly you left the kitchen, letting Olga finish breakfast herself.Â
I can't be pregnant; you prayed, and your prayers would go unanswered.Â
You were pregnant. Olga was right; you were sure of it. Between the morning sickness, weird cravings, and mood swings, you were sure of it.Â
oh godâŚYou barely had the money to take care of yourself...How were you going to take care of a childâlet alone the child of the man you worked for? Thoughts like those circled your brain day and night until finally you began to withdraw yourself.Â
That included avoiding Osferth like the sickness himself, and he began to notice after you barely spoke a word to him when he asked you to meet him in his chambers, then failed to do so twice. Â
He began to think perhaps he had done something wrong, or maybe youâd grown tired of the arrangement between you too.Â
He had hoped that wasnât the case, but you never gave him the chance to ask.Â
Every time he looked for his sweet maiden, you were nowhere to be found, or youâd dash away before you could be seen.Â
Osferth had enough.Â
He was tired of seeing her duck around corners or flat out running away when sheâd spot him in the halls; each time he had tried to speak with her, sheâd find a way out.
He was sick of it.Â
The thoughts of how to approach this situation plagued his mind, keeping him from sleeping.Â
With an aggravated sigh, he swings his feet over the side of his bed, placing them on the floor as he prepares to venture out into the cold halls of the night to clear his head.Â
âWhat did I do wrong?â He questions as he walks, âWhy was she avoiding me?âÂ
He was so lost in these thoughts he had almost missed the sound coming from the kitchen. His steps pause as he listens, and again, there was the same sound.
Slowly he creeped towards the kitchen door, peeking through the crack, looking for the intruder.Â
But he didnât find one; instead, he found the girl who plagued his mind day and night; he found you.Â
He stood there for only a moment longer, not wanting to waste this authority that was given to him.Â
âWhy are you up so late?â He spoke up from behind her; despite his voice being gentle, he still startled her in the process.Â
He watched as she hesitated to meet his gaze, settling to look at the floor beneath his feet instead as she timidly placed her fork down, so that was the noise he had heard. She had gotten up in the middle of the night to...eat?
âMy Lord i-â
âHave you not been eating enough?âÂ
She wasnât sure how she wanted to respond. His question caught her off guard. How was she supposed to answer his question without giving too much away?Â
He picked up on her hesitation to answer his question, so he asked a different one.
âWhy have you been avoiding me?â
Her hesitation only grows, her appetite long gone as her eyes look for something to look at that isn't him. She missed Osferth, even if she tried to deny it, but should she tell him? It's his baby; of course she should...But she was scared; she needed the money, and in truth she had hoped to keep this secret a little longer.
âWe shouldnât talk about this here, Osferth." She whispers, meeting his gaze with a pleading one.
âTo my chambers then,â he urges.Â
The walk to his chambers was awkward to say the least. Your head tilted down, not daring to look at Osferth.
Osferthâs eyes were straight forward, not daring to look at you. Not a word was spoken between the two.Â
Neither of you wanted to be the first to speak up; both of you were stuck in your thoughts, figuring out what to say.Â
You pull yourself from the sound of your shoes hitting the ground as he opens the door to his chambers.Â
âWhy have you been avoiding me?â he repeats as they enter.Â
âIâŚI'm sorry, my lord.â
âHave I done something to upset you? offend you maybe?â
She pauses, mouth gaping like a fish. âNo! No⌠My lord, youâve done nothing of the sort.â
âThen why have you been avoiding me? please!  I wish to make this rightâŚâ
She shifts in her spot, battling with herself if she should tell him. He had the right to know, she concluded.Â
âLord,â she whispers, her gaze meeting his pleading one.
âOsferth,â she corrects louder this time.
âIâm⌠I'm with the child," she admits, her hands anxiously attacking each other.Â
âYour child,â she clarifies.
Osferth was in shock.
pregnant.
with his child?
âAnd...and youâre certain?â he questionsÂ
She nods, pinching at the skin around her nail.
âAnd itâsâŚitâs mine?â
She nods again, her pinching nails piercing the skin as her vision gets foggy, her lip quivering.Â
How could he let this happen?Â
A bastard. Â Thatâs what was brewing in her belly.
his blood.
His bastard blood passed down onto another.
Thats what he was; all he had been at one point was nothing more than Alfredâs Bastard. There was a time when he was scared thatâs all he ever would be; he swore he would never condemn his child to a fate like his, and yet he had grown careless.
No.Â
He wouldnât allow his child to face the same cursĂŠd life that was forced upon him; he wouldnât make the same mistake his father had.Â
Osferth mustâve been silent for longer than he thought because the girl before him began to weep.Â
âP-Please Lord!âÂ
The cold ground left bruises on her knees as they collided.Â
Osferth couldnât tell if she had fallen to the ground in an attempt to beg or because her legs simply gave out.
âPlease!â She cried out again. âIâll leave without trouble once Iâve saved enough money! I won't ask you for anything more!â She let the words tumble from her mouth before her thoughts could catch them.Â
âNo one will know the babe is yours; just please don't cast me out! I need the money!â she babblesÂ
âCast you out...?â He asks, "I wouldn't...I wonât do that.â
Her frantic begs stop as she looks up at him. âYouâŚyou wont?â
Shaking his head, he kneels in front of her. âNever,â he assures her as he places his gentle hands on her tear-soaked cheeks.Â
"I wonât let you face this alone, not when I'm at fault for it,â he says, wiping her tears before continuing.
"Iâll do what my father could not,â he whispers, âthis baby will not be a bastard.â One of his hands moves to cup the back of her neck.
"What are you saying..." She meets his gaze.
âMarry meâŚâ His voice shakes as the words leave his lips.
ââŚWhat?â
âMarry me,â he said, with more confidence. "Iâll be a good father; give this baby what I never had,â he promises.Â
âPlease, I love you." He admits, âPlease marry me.â
She wasn't sure what to say, too overwhelmed with emotions. She wasn't sure if she was going to smile or cry again, so she did both.Â
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she presses her lips against his in a quick and inexperienced kiss. âYes! Yes, Iâll marry you!â she agrees.
He cups the back of her head, holding her against him as a smile of his own appears on his lips. He would be a good father, he promised; heâd give his child a life that wasnât granted to him.Â
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