#kneel and pray 🖤

[sweeneycrow]

tags (more to be added)

[streamofcolors]

𝔐𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

Cregan Stark x Reader.

Summary: Your husband, Cregan, has been preoccupied with his duties, neglecting you in the process. He makes up for it in a delightful way.

Warnings: SMUT (mdni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), mutual orgasm.

Author's note: I must admit I'm petrified about posting this. It has been ages since I've written, but this gorgeous man has sparked my imagination. I hope you all enjoy! 🖤

You find yourself pacing back and forth in your chamber, unable to find rest. The pale blue sky of the day has transformed into a somber, dark canvas. Stars illuminate the sky like snowflakes in the night.

Cregan has been preoccupied with his duties as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, resulting in a lack of attention to you. And you could never begrudge him for it; his duties came first. That is something you came to terms with a long time ago. But, oh, how you desire his attention.

You succumb to your desires and slip your robe over your nightgown before crossing the hall to Cregan’s chamber.

“Who is it?” grumbles Cregan, who is taking a bath when he hears a knock at the door.

“It is I, your wife,” you say softly, leaning your forehead against the door as you silently pray Cregan will grant you entrance.

Cregan raises an eyebrow as you speak. He had assumed it was one of his servants. "Come in," he replies, readjusting himself in the tub.

With a sigh of relief, you open the door and enter the chamber. The pleasant aroma of the bath envelops your senses, creating a soothing atmosphere. Your breath hitches at the sight of Cregan in his tub, his bare, chiseled chest protruding from the water.

“To what do I owe your presence at this hour?” Cregan asks as you approach his side.

You kneel alongside the tub and gently take the sponge from Cregan’s grasp. “You’ve been awfully preoccupied lately,” you point out cautiously, scrubbing his shoulder for him. You can see the wheels turning in Cregan’s head as he thinks about how to respond. He can sense your frustration.

“Duty is sacrifice,” he sighs, his gaze softening. Though he would never admit it, the last few days have been tiring.

You hum in agreement. “I am aware of that, my love. But that does not change the fact that I miss my husband.”

Cregan’s lips twitch upward into a grin. “You miss me? I am right here.”

You grin and huff, “Not in that way, Cregan.”

Cregan gently grasps your forearm, halting your scrubbing. “C’mere,” he says softly as he gently tugs on you.

He slips the robe off your shoulders, leaving you in your nightgown. He guides you into the bathtub with him, unconcerned about soaking your nightgown.

As you sink into the tub with Cregan, your nightgown becomes clingy, the thin fabric immediately soaked through and rendered translucent by the water. Cregan's eyes roam over your figure, taking in the way the water has made the fabric cling to your curves, accentuating every contour. He reaches out, his hands finding your hips and slowly guiding you to sit on his lap, facing him. The water ripples gently around you, lapping against your skin.

“Tell me, in what way does my dear wife miss me, then?”

You awkwardly place your hands on Cregan’s chest, a scarlet flush creeping up your cheeks as you silently curse yourself for being so bold as to come here.

“You haven’t summoned me to your chambers in days,” you whisper so softly that it is barely audible.

Cregan snickers, attempting to maintain composure for your sake. “Come on now, love, don’t get all shy on me.”

“I have missed you too. You have no idea how much it pains me to spend so much time apart,” he consoles you as his thumb caresses your hip comfortingly.

“How about this? Tonight, I am all yours,” Cregan says in a husky voice as he raises your face by your chin in a gentle manner.

Your gaze flickers from Cregan’s grey eyes to his lips. The subtle gesture is all the confirmation he needs, prompting Cregan to delicately press his lips against yours.

You shriek against his lips as he rises, holding you in his muscular arms. He carries you to his bed with ease, leaving a trail of water droplets on the stone floor.

Cregan chuckles as he drops you on his bed, watching you bounce. You are soaking the furs, but he could not care less. He gets to his knees at the foot of the bed and pulls you down to the edge.

"I've been neglecting you," he murmurs against your calf, kissing his way up your bare leg.

His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against your sensitive skin. Your soaked nightgown is bunched up at your waist. You can feel the soft tickle of his breath on your thigh, your fingers carding through his hair as he hovers near your core.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs before placing what he often referred to as a “northerner’s kiss” on your bundle of nerves.

Cregan’s tongue moves with precision, finding every sensitive spot that makes you whimper and writhe. Your hips begin to move in sync with his mouth, craving more of the delightful sensations he is giving you.

Cregan begins to suckle on your bundle of nerves, his eyes locked on your face as you let out a sharp gasp. Your fingers tug at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from him.

His fingers tease your entrance, delicately circling before gently pushing inside. The sensation of fullness feels overwhelming, causing you to arch your back and cry out.

His fingers move in sync with the movements of his mouth, curled inside of you, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Cregan, please,” you beg needily.

“I know, love, I know” he says as he rises from his knees.

Cregan's lips press against yours, your flavour lingering on his tongue. He guides you up on the bed, positioning himself at your throbbing entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, gasping as he begins to push inside of you.

The pleasure is palpable as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. Cregan groans, his forehead resting against yours as he comes to a halt, allowing you to adjust to him.

“By the gods, you feel so good,” he whispers, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back.

Cregan moves slowly, his thrusts deep and deliberate, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your gasps and moans blend to create a symphony of pleasure that resonates off the stone walls.

"Cregan," you gasp, your voice trembling from the intensity. "I'm close."

"Me too," he replies, his breath hot against your ear. "Come with me, love."

He moves his hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves and rubbing it in circles. With a final, deep thrust, he pushes you over the edge, your peak washing over you in a powerful wave. You cry out his name, your body trembling with pleasure as he follows you into ecstasy, his own release filling you up.

One of Cregan’s hands is tenderly cradling your head as he gazes down at you in awe, admiring your afterglow.

“Do you still miss me, dear wife?”

[sashi-ya]

❀˖ KINKTOBER 23 MASTERLIST ㅤㅤㅤOct 1st - Oct 14th

ʚ 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 ɞ - due to tumblr acting stupid, I was forced to split the ML in two parts. You will find the fics from days 15 to 31 on this masterlist. - the list will be updated everyday as I post the fics for each day ~ - mdni, do not copy, repost or translate without permision. - tag system as an extra tw: soft kinks 🤍 | mild kinks 💜 | hard kinks 🖤 |

ʚ 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ɞ

❀˖⁺ OCT 1. free use ⋆ roronoa zoro + f! r 💜 synopsis. you are serving the new daimyo of Ringo, Roronoa Zoro. And part of your duties are to simply allow the swordsman to use you whenever, and however he pleases.

❀˖⁺ OCT 2. god form ⋆ nika luffy + f! r 🤍 synopsis. curious, Luffy and you, decide to spice things up. Will you give your body to the Sun God Nika? will you allow him to take you to heaven?.

❀˖⁺ OCT 3. glory hole ⋆ nico robin x m! r 💜 synopsis. tired of the mundane life, Nico Robin, a successful CEO visits a different type of club to have some fun behind a wall. You, on a business mission, will visit the same club. Which surprises will you find there?.

❀˖⁺ OCT 4. threesome ⋆ kid x killer x f! r 💜 synopsis. after he cheated, your friends Kid and Killer are there to console you... in many different ways.

❀˖⁺ OCT 5. pregnancy ⋆ kyoraku shunsui x f! r 🤍 synopsis. who said pregnant women aren't sexy? to Shunsui your body has now became a beautiful temple in which he wanna kneel and pray to the Goddess you are.

❀˖⁺ OCT 6. dom/sub ⋆ hongo x f! r 💜 synopsis. while everyone thinks you are sick, you visit doctor Hongo for different reasons... an illness that gets cured by pure vitamin D.

❀˖⁺ OCT 7. stepcest ⋆ kisuke urahara x f! r 🖤 synopsis. you've been holding back for a long time now.. will you keep stopping yourself? or will you be succumbing to Kisuke's forbidden body tonight?

❀˖⁺ OCT 8. sex machine ⋆ germa brothers x gn! r 🖤 synopsis. you are used to have fun with the Germa brothers, but are you ready to play with their new toy?

❀˖⁺ OCT 9. df/bankai ⋆ byakuya kuchiki x f! r 🤍 synopsis. how would you react if a soul fell in love with you, a mortal?

❀˖⁺ OCT 10. impregnation ⋆ sabo x f! r 🤍 synopsis. keep teasing Sabo to fill you up, and you will find out what he is capable of...

❀˖⁺ OCT 11. watersports ⋆ sosuke aizen x f! r 💜 synopsis. Aizen has a lot of things to teach you and show you... will you drench yourself in knowledge... and experience?

❀˖⁺ OCT 12. dry humping ⋆ trafalgar law x gn! r 🤍 synopsis. insatiable, you want more. And because you can't wait until getting home, Law will allow you to sit on his lap while he drives...

❀˖⁺ OCT 13. public ⋆ donquixote rosinante x f! r 💜 synopsis. silence can be the best ally when you don't wanna get discover

❀˖⁺ OCT 14. leather straps/ bondage ⋆ law x f! r 💜 synopsis. please, stay quiet and still while he works... if not, Law will have to tie you down.

for the following days please visit this masterlist🌸 ˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

[blackshadowswriter]

Kneel At The Altar┃Matt Murdock

Summary: The one in which the Devil fucks you at the altar.

Warnings: blasphemy? (because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to fuck in church), reader (me) having very unholy thoughts about Matt in church and Matt acting on those unholy thoughts, little bit of exhibitionism, smut: dom!Matt, kinda rough p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, edging, praying while Matt eats you out AND fingers you (???), choking kink, praise kink, spanking, some degradation, marking, multiple orgasms, some overstimulation, dirty talk (not particularly in that order)

God, if you're reading this, stop here, it isn't for you bby 😘

Words: 7,691

AN: Would you believe me if I said that this fic idea formed in my head WHILE I was in church? I'm not even kidding, I got dragged to church, and I literally thought up this fic while sitting in church, half-listening to a sermon. This fic has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I guess the wait was worth it because I bring you 7k words of pure sin. My content warnings have never been this long before, and that's probably not a good sign (or it's a very, very good sign)

Tagging my wonderful @farfromstrange because you also inspired me to finish this, and our horny enthusiasm for this fic kept me going, ily sm girl 🖤

As you knelt in front of the altar on your hands on knees with tears in your eyes and the Devil himself between your legs, you wondered how you had gotten yourself into this predicament. 

It had started out so innocent: dear Matthew asking you to go to mass with him, swaying you with his plea of "I don't want to go alone, sweetheart, please" and that drowned puppy look in his eyes. For someone who couldn't see out of them, Matt could express a great deal of emotion in his eyes. 

You agreed to accompany him to Sunday morning mass and returned the victorious grin that had spread across his face with a fond one of your own. You weren't usually one for religious settings like this, but it was worth it to see Matt in that black suit with the white dress shirt—one of your favorite outfits on Matt. 

Half of the sermon fell on your deaf ears as most of your attention was on Matt, studying his gorgeous side profile and that stubbled jawline that you loved kissing when he fucked you. God, it felt even better between your legs. The thought of that sent heat flaring across your body as you squeezed your thighs together. 

Besides you, Matt cleared his throat quietly, nudging you in your side, undoubtedly guessing where your thoughts had gone. A faint blush rose to your cheeks when you saw that Matt's jaw was clenched tightly, a sign you had come to know meant that he was trying to control himself. The sight of that only spurred on further thoughts of Matt losing control and fucking you right there. 

Matt let out a quiet but ragged breath, and you knew he could smell the arousal between your thighs. His grip on his cane was so tense that his knuckles had turned white, his scars visible against his trembling fist. Your mouth went dry as you remembered those knuckles buried inside of you as you moaned for him just a few nights ago. Thighs clenching even tighter together, you bit back a grin at Matt's low hiss of your name. 

Subtly, Matt adjusted his pants next to you, and the discomfort on his face made you stifle a laugh. The quiet growl Matt rumbled in warning did nothing to dissuade you. You could feel the heat of Matt's body pressed against yours and bit your lip, recalling how it felt against your bare skin. 

Your fingers started to creep towards Matt's thigh, lightly skimming up and down the side of those muscular thighs that always caged you in when he knelt on top of you in bed. Faster than you could blink, Matt's hand flew towards you and caught your wrist in his tight grip. 

"Not here, for God's sake," he hissed in your ear. 

"Funny you'd phrase it like that," you murmured in amusement. 

Matt turned to glare at you behind his opaque red glasses, but the way he had to fold his hands across his lap to maintain some semblance of his Good Catholic Boy image in church (which you had come to realize was a total façade) told you he wanted it as much as you did. 

You should probably listen to him and stop before anything happened. What was the punishment for getting handsy in God's house again? You had a feeling you didn't want to know. 

But there was the slight thrill of excitement shooting through you at the risk of doing this in pubic. A sly grin slid across your lips as you tilted your head towards Matt's ear, letting your hair fall forward in a way that would seem to onlookers as though you were merely whispering something to him. Instead, you nipped at his neck right below his ear where you knew he was sensitive. Matt's entire form, every inch of thick muscle and power stiffened at the contact, and you heard him give the smallest, tinniest groan that no one other than you would be able to hear.  

Matt growled your name in warning, but there was no denying the lust burning in his dark eyes. His blank gaze had landed somewhere around your lips, and you wondered if he really was going to give into desire and kiss your right there. 

But then everyone started to rise around them to sing the closing songs, and the sudden movement snapped both of you out of whatever horny haze you had been in. You stood like everyone else, shoulders pressed together, forced to ignore the blatant lust coiling in both of you.

For now.

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"I'm going out," Matt whispered to you sometime late at night as you laid curled in bed with a book in hand while the shadow of the Devil stood behind you. 

At his words, you shut your book and rolled over to face him, eyes roving over the skin-tight black suit through which you could practically see every single ab. His black mask was held in one hand while the other came up to cradle your face gently. As much was you enjoyed Matt in his black lawyer suit, you decided that you enjoyed Matt even more in his black Devil suit when you could run your fingers across his broad chest and feel the almost burning heat of his skin underneath. 

You tilted your head up to study Matt's face. Whenever his mask was on, cloaking so much of his face in black, he felt like a phantom shadow that could disappear if you closed your eyes for a second too long. There was something sharp and fiery and dangerous about him.

You didn't mind of course. In actuality, you enjoyed it—enjoyed the danger of dancing with the Devil. 

"Okay," you said, sitting up to press a kiss to his soft lips. "Stay safe." 

"I will," he murmured, brushing his calloused fingers across your temple. "Stay in the apartment. Wait for me when I get back." 

You knew that voice—that low, possessive tone that dripped with promise for what was to come. A knowing smirk flitted across your lips as you hooked your legs around his waist to pull him nearer. "Yeah?" you challenged. "And what are you going to do when you get back?" 

Matt chuckled softly, and even though the mask was off, that sound right there was purely the Devil speaking. "Oh sweetheart," he purred. "That's only for me to know, isn't it?" 

That low, raspy voice he used rekindled that fiery want that had burned so dangerously in you hours earlier. By the time Sunday morning mass had been over, Foggy and Karen had called you both over for lunch in the office. The rest of the day had went by as normal with neither of you acknowledging what had transpired in the church outside of his promising smirks and your light, teasing touches ghosting across his body. 

Now, however, with the Devil ready to be unleashed, there was nothing stopping that eager, burning desire rearing its head in both of you.

Nothing except Matt's duty to the city. 

Fucking morals. You could just stay with me in bed, you thought about telling him. You might even be able to cajole him into staying if you could rile him up enough.

But no. You understood Matt's commitment to Hell's Kitchen even if you weren't too fond of the fact he got beat up every night. Still, it would be cruel to ask him to stop what he did just for you, just so he could hear the cries of those who needed him going unanswered in the merciless shadow of the night.

You weren't above asking for a little taste of his promise, however. "Tell me," you begged softly. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

That sharp grin was still on his face. "When I come back," Matt whispered in your ear, "I am going to fuck you into this mattress so hard that you won't be able to keep quiet." His fingers danced down the nape of your neck lightly, and you shivered. "And you're going to be screaming my name so loud, so everyone can hear who you belong to." 

"Oh my God," you whimpered, eyes rolling back at the promise. That heat coiling in your stomach lashed out across your body, spreading through you like a wildfire. It pooled between your thighs, making you clench them tightly together with a soft moan. "Matthew." 

The devilish smile that spread across his lips was absolutely sinful, a promise of the night to come. "But," he rumbled in your ear, his hand reaching down to grasp your wrist as he had in church. "You are not to touch yourself until I come back. Do you understand?" 

You whimpered again. 

"I said," Matt growled, "do you understand me?" 

"Yes," you whined. "But God, Matt, please...I can't wait that long, Matt, please—" 

"You will," he said sharply, "or you'll be punished." He released his harsh hold on your wrist and brought his hand up to trail lightly across your cheek, his tenderness a stark contrast to his rough dominance a few seconds ago. "You can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart? Can't you be a good girl for me? Can't you be a good girl and wait for me to get back to fuck you?" 

Fuck, not the praise. 

Your head fell backwards with a small shuddering moan, eyes falling shut as your thighs squeezed tightly together, a desperate motion to ease the ache in your core. "Matt," you whimpered. "Please." 

His low laugh breezed across your cheek, and Matt's hand disappeared from your cheek. "Be good," came his stern order, and then the radiant heat from Matt's body vanished, leaving you panting and desperate.

By the time your eyes had snapped open, the Devil was gone, melting back into the shadows into the night. 

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You tried. 

Oh God, you truly tried. 

You laid there in bed, body burning with desperate need as you tried not to think about what Matt was planning to do to you lest your predicament worsen. 

You tried to read. You rolled onto your stomach and flipped your book back open, trying to pick up where you left off. It did no good—the words wouldn't permeate the fog of sinful thoughts swarming in your head that screamed Matt, Matt, Matt. 

You thought about disobeying Matt and touching yourself, just to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs but quickly dismissed the idea. Matt would know if you did—he would smell the scent of your arousal on your fingers and instantly know what you had done. Even though the prospect of his punishment was excitement, tonight you didn't think you could stand his merciless teasing. You needed him desperately. 

Eventually, after nearly an hour of lying there, you got out of bed and slipped your shoes on. You would go for a walk around the neighborhood, you decided. The fresh air would help clear your head and calm yourself down. 

At least that's what you told yourself you would say if a certain Devil caught your scent and chased you down. 

And if you were really just hoping that said Devil really would catch your scent...well, that was no one's business, was that? 

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In an interesting twist of irony, you made it as far as the gates of Clinton Church before he caught up with you. 

You thought you had heard him behind you several times as you walked, and you knew he must have been letting you hear his small footsteps and scuffles on purpose. If he wanted to, Matt could move like a giant Devilish cat, leaping across rooftops thought the dark in absolute silence. 

But then you paused in front of the church, staring at the stained glass windows through which you could see the dark interior as you thought about that morning. You didn't even noticed the church doors slowly creeping open in front of your, too caught up in your thoughts. 

Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your waist and yanked you through the doors into the dark church. The startled gasp that flew from your lips at the quick movement was quickly stifled by a large hand over your mouth, but you weren't afraid. You could feel the familiar, broad line of muscle pressed against your back, his body heat that always burned so warm a comforting feeling after the cold New York air. 

"I told you to wait for me," a low voice hissed in your ear. 

You bit back a grin, the tingle of excitement in your stomach growing stronger. "I was just going out for a walk," you said innocently. 

He growled behind you and dragged you towards the altar through the rows of empty pews. As your feet stumbled along, your eyes darted around the dark interior, sweeping for any sign of company. You shouldn't have been worried though—Matt had far more effectively scoped out the inside already to make sure no one else was there. 

"Kneel," Matt ordered when they reached the altar. 

You obeyed, dropping to your knees in front of the wooden table. The cloth that usually draped across it was absent tonight—perhaps being cleaned or for some other reason. It didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the man pressed against your back. 

"You've been a bad girl tonight," Matt mused, his chest vibrating against your back when he spoke. 

"Well, you were taking so long, so I thought I'd come find you," you replied sweetly, unable to keep the grin off your face this time. 

Matt hadn't told you that you could move, so you kept still in the position he had ordered you in—kneeling in front of the altar facing forward away from the warm frame of muscle and power at your back. Your eyes turned, almost automatically, up towards the massive statue of Jesus hanging from the cross as you silently wondered if Matt really was planning on taking your right in front of that statue. You decided you wouldn't mind if he did. 

Behind you, you could hear Matt pacing quietly, purposefully keeping out of your line of sight. He made a tsking noise. "So impatient," he tutted. "Perhaps I need to teach you the virtue of patience, don't you think, sweetheart?" 

You licked your lips slowly. "What does this lesson on patience include, sir?" you asked, emphasizing the last word with a smirk. 

His sharp inhale carried to your ears, and your grin widened. Your goal tonight was to rile Matt up enough that he would either forget about your disobedience or not care. So far, the plan was going great.

Then, his hand fisted in your hair and yanked your head back. Matt's burning form reappeared, pressed flushed against your back. His hot breath was in your ear suddenly, growling, "I want you to take these off—" his finger curled in the waistband of your pants and snapped them against your waist "—and get on your hands and knees."

When you didn't move at first, he landed a sharp hit to your clothed ass. You yelped, and his hand darted up to cover your mouth.

"Move, sweetheart," he ordered lowly. "And keep quiet. We don't want anyone hearing us here, do we?"

"No," you panted even though you weren't sure if you were telling the truth. His hand released your hair, and you scrambled to obey him, peeling off your jeans and tossing them aside before kneeling how he told you to. The position felt oddly exposed—you could feel cold air breezing across your naked legs and shivered.

"That's better," Matt murmured behind you. His bare hand—when had he taken off the gloves?—brushed against the back of your thigh, and you whimpered, instinctively pressing back against him. This time, when his hand came down your ass, you didn't have the denim of your jeans to protect you. The sound of his hand against the thin material of your panties echoed with a sharp crack through the church. You had to bring a hand up to fist in your mouth to keep quiet from the sting.

"So." He trailed a finger across the back of your thighs lazily, occasionally dipping them down to slide along the soaked fabric of your panties, taking pleasure in each of your hitched breathes. "You want to explain what that was about earlier?"

"I was just going for a walk," you whimpered, desperately arching back into him, but his fingers disappeared the moment you did. The next second, another sharp smack landed on your ass, jolting you forward with a small gasp.

"That's not what I was asking, and you know it," Matt said calmly. "I was talking about this morning."

A feeling of something—you didn't know what that was—ran down your spine, and you shivered, heart rate picking up at the memory of your little dalliance during mass.

"I don't know," you breathed.

Your heart skipped. Lie.

Another harsh strike landed on your ass. "You do."

"Fuck, Matt," you nearly cried, "please!"

"What are you asking for, hm?" Matt murmured, running a large palm over your stinging ass. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Touch me, fuck me, anything," you begged. "Please, Matt, I've waited so long."

"Then you can wait a little more, can't you?"

"No," you panted, trying not to move, your body on fire. "Matt, please!"

He gave a thoughtful hum, fingers teasing you lightly through the thin fabric of your panties. Your hips bucked back instantly, a sharp whine leaving your throat at the touch. You tried to grind against his hand, but he yanked it away with a low, almost mocking chuckle.

"You've been naughty today, sweetheart," Matt purred. "Having such unholy thoughts in church—don't think I didn't know what you were thinking about. Tell me what were you imagining, hmm?"

Heat rose to your face, melting right along with the fire raging across the rest of your body. "I don't know," you stammered.

"Lie," Matt said, his voice darkly amused. His hand slid underneath your jaw and tilted your head back, so he could press his lips to the shell of your ear. "Were you thinking about me fucking you, sweetheart?"

A ragged moan fell from your mouth, a pulse of heat running across your spine. You let your head fall back against Matt's shoulder, arching back against him. The hand gripping your jaw stroked your cheek gently, a glimpse of softness underneath his dominating exterior.

"Please," you begged quietly. "I need it, Matt. I'll do anything, please..."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

He let out a quiet, considering noise, his fingers absently stroking your jaw with a gentleness that you had come to know precede the roughness. You whimpered quietly, begging him in your head to hurry up and do whatever the fuck he wanted to do so he could just fuck you already. Your body was aching with need, that fire in your raging to be satisfied.

"How well do you remember the Lord's Prayer?" Matt asked you abruptly.

You blinked in surprise. "T-the Lord's Prayer?"

"Yes."

"Um...kind of?" you said uncertainly. "Haven't done it since middle school." You felt the breath from his quiet laughter skate across your earlobe and twitched in anticipation of whatever he had planned.

"Here's what's going to happen," he said slowly, his tone dipping back down into the low timber of his Devil voice, the one that always sent shivers down your spine. "You're going to recite it for me as penance for your sins."

"I didn't—"

"Thinking about the Devil fucking you in church is a sin, sweetheart," Matt cooed. "You're going to need to repent if you want to get what you want."

"Y-you want me to pray."

"Yes."

"Right here. Kneeling in my panties. With you at my back, half grinding on my ass."

A sharp swat landed on your ass. "Hmm, it seems more like you were the one grinding on me," he chuckled lowly, dragging his finger along the seam of your underwear. "As for the panties, God might mind, but I don't think the Devil does. In fact, he prefers you praying like this. Go on, sweetheart. Say your prayer, and maybe I'll think about giving you what you want."

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to clear your head away from thoughts of Matt, fuck me already and remember the words of the prayer. This actually wasn't so bad, you decided. It was a bit of a weird request to pray, kneeling at the altar in soaked panties, but it was fine. All you had to do was recite the prayer, and then hopefully, Matt would be satisfied and finally give in to you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

"Okay," you started to say, the vaguely remembered words coming to the tip of your tongue. "Um...Our Father...who art in heaven...hallowed be...thy name?"

"Keep going," Matt purred in your ear, his hands sliding down from your face to lightly grip your throat for a brief moment, enjoying your shaky groan at the contact. He pushed you back down onto your hands and knees, hand running down to your waist and dragging sensually across your hips.

Whimpering at the touch, you bit your lip and forced the next words out. "Y-your kingdom come....and, um....your will be done—Matt, what are you—?"

For he had just hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and started to slide them down your hips. Your breath caught in your throat at the way the fabric slid against your most sensitive areas. "Don't worry about me," he murmured. "Just lift your legs up for me—there you go. Continue."

What the actual fuck? Did he honestly expect you to be even close to okay after that? He slid your panties completely free of your legs, leaving your soaked heat bare to him. You whimpered at the barely there brush of his fingers against your inner thigh, just a few inches away from where you ached for him most.

"Continue, sweetheart," Matt ordered.

You tried to take another deep breath and continue where you'd left off. "Okay, um...will be done...on—on Earth as it is in Heaven. Uh...give us this day our—fucking hell, Matthew—oh my God, fuck!"

You lurched forward, a strangled cry falling from your lips when you felt Matt's mouth suddenly close around your dripping cunt, tongue lashing mercilessly against your clit so fast and so sharp it nearly hurt. He kept up the torturous pace for a few seconds while you writhed and moaned, pleasure striking like lightning between your legs and arcing up to your back and across your legs. His mouth on you was both a remedy and fuel to the desperate need that had been kindling there all night. Your hands clawed at the carpet underneath you, fire burning across every nerve in your body as you shuddered and cried out for him.

Then, as suddenly as it came, his mouth vanished from your cunt in a heartbeat, and you were left just as empty and desperate as you were a few seconds ago.

"No!" you choked out, voice thick with fading pleasure and need as you tried to grind back against him uselessly. "Matt, please!"

He didn't answer your plea for a few moments, instead dragging his tongue across his lips and moaning softly as the taste of you. God, you were perfection to him, you always were. Matt wanted nothing more than to dive back between your legs and drink from you until you had nothing left to give him.

But half the enjoyment of the catch was the chase, and Matt was not done teasing you yet. He laughed darkly, landing another slap to your ass, gentler this time but no less firm. "I told you to pray, sweetheart," he reminded you. "I told you to pray and repent for your sins. And what do you do? Be a filthy little girl and start moaning for me? In God's house? What a dirty little girl you are."

Your mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of this man to accuse you of such a thing when he just fucking ate you out right in front of the altar. Still, there was no hiding the shudder that rolled through you at his words, and Matt gripped your hips firmer.

"You're going to finish your prayer," Matt ordered. "No matter what happens, and then we'll see if you deserve to get fucked."

"'No matter what happens?'" you repeated in a choked whisper. "Are you—you're not actually going to—"

Another hard hit landed on your ass, the sting only feeding the fire threatening to consume you. "Pray, sweetheart," Matt ordered. "Can't you follow a simple command?"

You swallowed thickly. "Y-yes, I can."

"Good. Then continue."

You whimpered softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to ignore the burning, aching need for him between your legs. Where had you even left off on the prayer?

"Give us this day our daily bread," you stammered out. "And—um—forgive us our— oh God!"

Because fuck, his mouth was on you again, hungrily lapping at your cunt as you bucked against him desperately. His hot tongue dragged across your clit, and burning pleasure was scorching every inch of your skin. You threw back your head with a wanton moan when Matt circled the sensitive bud with a quick swipe of tongue that had you writhing in his firm grip.

"Matt!" you cried, molten heat rolling across every nerve in your body. Your hands curled against the carpet, desperately grasping for something to hold on to, to brace you against the raging fire licking at your insides.

Matt paused in his motions, pulling his mouth away for a second, but his finger came to replace his tongue, drawing languid circles on your clit that had you rolling your hips in desperation.

"I told you to pray," he told you again, quiet warning in his voice. "Don't make me remind you again."

A strangled noise fell from your lips. "Y-you keep eating me out, and you want me to pray?" you squeaked.

You didn't have to look back to know he had that feral grin on his lips, the one that always drove you insane. "Oh sweetheart, that was the plan from the beginning."

And his deliciously thick finger plunged into you with a sinfully slick noise that seemed to echo through the empty church like a reminder of the blasphemy taking place at the altar, and then you were writhing, whining, whimpering as Matt fucked you slowly with his middle finger. His purposefully slow, deliberate strokes had you moaning so loud, you thought anyone passing by the church might hear you. Each thrust of his finger inside of you stoked that deep, festering pleasure that burned in your very core, making you arch and cry out to a God too ashamed to answer you.

That was okay, you thought through a thick haze of pleasure. You didn't need God to answer you. You needed the Devil to fuck you.

Matt groaned, his eyes rolling back at the smell of your arousal. He dragged his tongue over his lips, bringing the delicious taste of you from the air into his mouth, heat rippling through him at that new sensation. Painfully hard and throbbing in his pants, Matt panted, desperately drawing another breath in just to drag more of your taste into him. You were exquisite. You were perfect, his good little girl, making such pretty noises for him. You were everything he needed and so much more.

His thumb dragged across your sensitive clit, sending jolts of fiery pleasure stabbing through you as that pressure started to build in your lower abdomen, fire coiling into a tight rope, ready to snap. And oh, there it was, sweet orgasm dancing within reach, so close but so far away. Half sobbing, you arched against him, desperately trying to get him to fuck you faster.

But then Matt's fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you empty and aching, slick dripping down your thighs as a harsh sob left your chest. The burning edge of orgasm was already fading away. "Matt," you cried, "please! Please, Matt, please, you've been teasing me for so long—"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he snarled, his hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back, so his lips were right against your ear. "Don't act like you didn't want this, you dirty little girl."

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, before you could register the embarrassment. "I wanted you to fuck me," you groaned. "I need it, Matt, please."

Abruptly, he released his grip on your hair but not before delivering another harsh swat to your ass. "You want me to fuck you? Then do as I say," he commanded. "I gave you an order, sweetheart, and you still haven't followed it. You better finish that prayer before I decide to give you another punishment for not listening."

"I—I don't—"

Another hit to your ass. "Did you not hear me?" Matt growled, his voice all rough edges and heated ash drifting across your skin. "Or do you just enjoy being a brat?"

This, you thought vaguely, this should be embarrassing. The way he degraded you, the way he called you his dirty little girl, his brat—if it had been any other man, you would've beat the shit out of him. But oh, it was him, it was your Matt, it was your Devil whispering filthy words to you, and every single syllable sent another pulse of heat rolling through you like molten lava.

"This is your last warning," Matt said lowly. "Finish your prayer now, or I'll give you another punishment."

Your brain scrambled to comprehend what he was saying, or at least some part of your brain that hadn't shut down, that wasn't giving in to primal instinct to beg Matt to fuck you. Where the fuck had you even left off?

"...F-forgive us our trespasses as we forgive...our—no, uh, those who trespass against us. And, um, lead us not into temptatio—ah, Matt!"

God, this time it was two of his wonderfully thick fingers pushing into you abruptly, thick heat pulsing through you. Your hips bucked against him instinctively, seeking moremoremore. The words of the prayer died on your tongue, replaced by shameless whimpers and moans as Matt dragged them out slowly and then shoved them back in a harsh thrust, the tips of his fingers barely grazing that spot, deep inside of you. Desperate, keening cries tumbled from your mouth as you threw your head back, gasping and whining.

You—oh God—you needed more. Hot pleasure wormed its way through your body, consuming every other thought until you were left with nothing but primal, wanton need. Your arms trembled as you barely held yourself up, cunt throbbing around Matt's fingers achingly.

This time, when Matt pulled your hair back and snarled in your ear, his fingers didn't leave you. Instead, they continued their torturously slow pace even as he purred, "Finish the goddamn prayer, sweetheart, and don't make me ask again."

You knew better than to protest the unfairness of him making you recite a prayer while he fucked you on his fingers in front of the altar. You could barely summon a thought that wasn't fuck me, Matt, please, but you managed to choke out the next line.

"Deliver us from evil," you sobbed even as Matt brushed his thumb across your clit again, making you jolt at the sharp pleasure racing along the bud of sensitive nerves. "I—ah!—don't know the rest—" you stammered, desperate to reach the end.

"Lie," he chuckled in your ear. "Lie one more time, and that prayer is going to be the least of your problems, sweetheart."

Your head fell back against his hand, eyes falling shut as your needy whimpers echoed along the church walls. His fingers had picked up pace, and now Matt pressed them deep enough to just ever so slightly brush against your g-spot. Even that brief, barely there contact was enough to have you dripping and throbbing on his fingers.

"Finish it," Matt cooed in your ear. "Come on, honey, you're so close."

In both ways, you thought distantly in your muddled mind. "Please!" you cried.

"Finish the last bit, and you can come," he promised.

Well, that changed things. Spurred on by his vow, you blinked harshly, trying to put aside the scorching pleasure arcing through your body for a second.

"For the—the kingdom and—uh something about power and glory—is yours, uh, nowandforeveramen," you rushed out, squeezing your eyes shut, and begging, begging that it was good enough for Matt.

"Hmm," he hummed, considering. Should he make you redo that last bit? Technically it wasn't correct, and how he would love to hear you cry for him if he made you repeat it. But then you ground your hips back, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers with a strangled cry of "please, sir!" And oh, how he could deny that?

Matt didn't reply, but you heard him shifting behind you, the rhythm of his fingers pausing for a second. A half sobbed plea was forming on your lips, but it was chased away in a heartbeat when the glorious wet heat of Matt's mouth closed around your cunt again.

Sinfully loud moans and gasps tore from your throat, your head falling forward. Fiery pleasure almost too much to handle burned between your legs, coursing up through your entire body until your toes were curling and your hands gripping the carpet. Matt lapped at your clit like a man starved, all while his fingers resumed their motions, finally picking up pace, settling into a fast rhythm you so desperately needed.

You were racing towards your climax at a speed that would've been embarrassing if Matt hadn't been edging you all night. "Please," you choked out, tears streaming down your face from the sheer intensity of it all. "Please, Matt, you said I could come, I need it, please—"

And his hand that was holding on to you squeezed your hip, and that was all the confirmation you needed. Wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, Matt curled his fingers inside of you just right, pressing down on that spot, and then you just fell. Off that high cliff you had been dancing to and from for the entire night.

The plummet was truly something else: your back arched, and a ragged cry—almost scream—was falling from your mouth, incoherent noises and words reaching Matt's ears as orgasm surged over you like a tidal wave, knocking you off your feet and dragging you under into a blanket of blissful oblivion. You swore you saw stars popping in the corners of your blurry vision, so much white-hot pleasure burning through you, it was almost incomprehensible.

Matt slowed the drag of his fingers but kept up soft little kitten licks on your clit as you came down until you were twitching and whimpering from the oversensitivity. But he didn't wait for you to fully recover before continuing.

In one swift move, he flipped you over into your back, and you got a glimpse of his powerful form leaning over you, his flushed face, his straining bulge in his pants, his lust-filled eyes burning into you before his mouth crashed against yours in a fiery kiss.

You could practically feel his hunger devouring you from that kiss from the way he claimed your lips, hot tongue pressing into your mouth the second you opened to him. His teeth lightly nipped your bottom lip, and your moan was swallowed by his tongue sliding against yours. Matt groaned into your mouth, his hips grinding down against you.

"Matt," you whined when he broke the kiss to let you come up for air. "Please, I need you."

He growled, the hungry sound nothing short of feral as he dipped his head to suck at your neck. The hot embrace of his mouth at your throat had you keening, tilting your head back for more, which he gave you, his teeth grazed the delicate, vulnerable skin. A low hum rippled through his form before he suddenly sank his teeth into your neck, nipping you hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped, body involuntarily arching up into him as Matt dragged his tongue over the spot he had bit as if soothing it.

"Wanna mark you, sweetheart," he moaned into your neck. "So they know who you belong to."

Jesus fucking Christ. This man was going to be the death of you.

"Fuck me," you begged. "I want it, Matt, please. Mark me, fuck me, make me yours."

Another feral snarl rumbled deep in his chest, and then suddenly, you were lifted up into the air before your back hit a cold, stone table.

Did he just put you on the fucking altar?

You didn't have time to think about that, however, because Matt was hurriedly unbuckling his pants, and the only thought left in your head was finally. Eagerly, you helped him shove those goddamn pants off his hips, licking your lips at the sight of his straining cock in his boxers before you yanked those down too, reveling in Matt's soft whimper. His cock was painfully hard, the tip bright red and slick with his precum that dripped down his throbbing length. The mere sight of his gorgeous cock had you clenching your thighs together as you wrapped your hand around his thigh girth, stroking him softly. The throaty moan of your name he let out sent shivers racing down your spine.

"Sweetheart," he groaned, eyes falling shut.

"Please," you whined, "I need you, Matt. I need you inside me."

"Fuck," he breathed, and his fingers curled around your hips, yanking you forward suddenly. With a gasp, you were dragged across the altar until your legs could wrap around Matt, who was standing right between between thighs, all that thick, powerful muscle cradled between your legs. Matt lined his cock up with your entrance and brought his hand out to cradle your face. "I want to hear you scream for me," he ordered. "I want everyone to hear who you belong to."

You whimpered, nodding frantically. "I—yes, Matt, yes, just please—just fuck me, Matt."

Even like this, flushed, panting, and as obviously needy as you were, he could still manage that cocky smirk as his finger brushed across your lips. "You asked for it," he chuckled and finally, finally pushed himself into you, inch by burning inch.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your mouth falling open as slowly, he slid his thick length into you, the stretch of him in your cunt welcome after the emptiness of so long. "Matt," you moaned when he finally bottomed out, his ragged groan matching your own. God, he was so big, so thick, seated deep inside of you. His burning body molded perfectly against you, the endless expanse of lean muscle and soft skin glorious underneath your roaming hands.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," he panted, dragging his cock out slowly and sliding back in, his leisure pace driving you mad. "Ah!—fuck—you're so tight, baby."

"Want you," you moaned, arching into him. "Want you to fuck me. Fuck me the way I know you want to, Matt, please."

He let out another ragged groan, the hand cradling your cheek moving down to wrap around your throat, not squeezing but just holding for the time being. "Y-yeah?" he stuttered, trying to sound rough and in control but failing as he swallowed down another eager moan. You loved watching him like this, watching the way he fell apart in front of you, all because of you. "And what's that?"

You wrapped your legs around Matt's hips to let him grind deeper into your cunt, matching his heady pant with a needy whimper of your own. "Y-you wanna fuck me hard," you moaned out. "Could feel it, Matt, could feel the way you want it. Please, I—I can take it, I need you to—oh fuck!—fuck me rough. Take me, Matt, please."

His growl rumbled deep in his throat, and the large hand gripping your throat squeezed just once. Matt dipped his head down to place a kiss on your lips, sweet and gentle one last time as he purred against your mouth.

Then, he braced his other hand next to your head on the altar, and when he dragged his hips back, this time he returned to you with a vicious snap of his hips, slamming his cock back into you. A strangled gasp flew from your mouth as your hands scrambled against the altar surface beneath you, trying to find something to hold onto.

But there was nothing, nothing other than you and Matt and the fast, rough, almost brutal pace he set as he drove himself into you again and again. This pleasure was so much deeper and stronger than before, each delicious drag of his cock against your slick cunt sending sparks careening through your body until your brain felt overloaded with bliss. The sounds you two were making were nothing short of downright filthy: the slap of skin on skin as Matt's hips collided with your thighs, the slick noise of his cock gliding through your obscene wet cunt, the sinfully loud moans falling from both of your lips.

Matt's grip on your throat tightened when you clenched around his cock, and he growled, the sound thick and hazy with lust and need. He picked up his pace even more, fucking you so hard you knew you were going to feel it tomorrow, but you didn't give a shit. Worth it, in your opinion, if it came from Matt Murdock railing you like this.

"Matt," you slurred, half drunk on the pleasure he gave you. He stroked your jaw with his thumb, his blank eyes, dark with arousal and lust, focused somewhere around your lips.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he panted, his hips driving into you with animal-like need. "Y-you feel so good. So wet, so tight just for me. You sound so—fucking pretty getting fucked on my cock."

You whined, writhing beneath him even as his hand not gripping your throat pressed against your waist to hold you down. Every goddamn nerve in your body was screaming, burning, scorching with the pleasure that rolled across your body in throbbing waves. Matt adjusted his grip on your waist, lifting you up every so slightly but oh at that perfect angle that let him hit your g-spot with each thrust of his hips.

Your high moan, pitched almost at a scream, was the result as mind numbing pleasure sparked between your thighs with each harsh thrust. You clenched tighter around Matt, spurring his frantic thrusts on until he was pounding into you at a pace close to brutal, the obscene squelch of his cock diving into your soaked cunt echoing around you like an unholy melody, the chorus being your screams.

Matt leaned over you, panting roughly. You could smell the sweet scent of musk and sex in the air and see the way his pink mouth parted with each heavy breath against your throat. He lowered his head to drag along your cheek until his lips were pressed against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he groaned. "I can feel you, you're almost there." And you were for the second time that night, you could feel the cloud of your orgasm hovering right above you, pushed closer and closer by each brutal stroke of his cock inside of you.

"Come on, honey, come on my cock," Matt ordered, and you whined. "You're taking my cock so well, all you have to do is come for me. Be my good little girl and come all over my fucking cock."

That was all you needed. Your back arched off the altar, your hands shot out to grab desperately at Matt, your eyes squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back in absolute bliss. This time, orgasm rolled over you slower than the first time but even more intense. It scorched its way through every nerve ending in your body, consuming you like a blanket of fiery heat, making your vision go white. Distantly, you heard yourself scream—actually scream—as you descended into a blank state of pure, utter pleasure.

You could feel Matt's pace growing sloppy and frantic, short, desperate thrusts as he panted and groaned louder and louder until his hips stuttered against yours, and the most beautiful moan you had ever heard left his lips. He emptied himself into you, and you felt his hot seed spilling deep inside of your cunt even as Matt continued to grind into your tightness until every last drop of his spent was buried inside of you. He slumped over your body on the altar, both of your chests heaving in sync as you came down from your highs together.

Finally, Matt lifted his head from your chest and peered at you with his lovely dark eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly. "Was that too much?"

You cradled his face in your hands, marveling how this wonderful, wonderful man was yours. "It was perfect," you promised, kissing him sweetly. "It's never too much. I love you, Matt."

"Hmm," he hummed contently into your mouth. "I love you so much, sweetheart. You're sure you're okay?"

"Oh I am absolutely glowing, Matthew. If I had known this is what you meant when you said you wanted me to come to church with you, I would've came ages ago."

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AN: It's been a hot second since I've written full blown smut, so forgive me if it's kinda rusty. Although I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for this whole fic soooo 🤷‍♀️ I wanna say I need to go to church after writing this, but the last time I was in church, I came up with the most unholy smut fic idea ever, so maybe not a good idea (maybe it'll inspire another one though)

If you enjoyed, please remember to like, comment, and reblog! 🖤

My Matt Murdock Masterlist

[jennay]

Under The Stars

Request: hi! could i possibly request a best friends to lovers one shot with noah - sort of like, both of them were too scared to say how they felt? i was thinking the reader has been friends with noah and ruffilo since they were teenagers and she now works with the band as a guitar tech or something :') thank you!

Master List

An: I changed the setting where the confessions happen. I hope you love it. It's mushy!

If you want to be tagged in future Noah things let me know 🖤

If you have any requests feel free to send them!

You relaxed in the back of your 'new' truck, a battered old pickup your dad had given you as a hand-me-down. The metal was scratched and dented, and the paint was peeling off in places, but you loved it anyway. Noah and Nick, your two best friends, lay beside you on the soft blankets you had spread over the truck bed.

You felt their warmth and comfort as you gazed at the sky, watching the stars sparkle and fade. The night air was cool and crisp, and you heard the crickets chirping in the distance. You adored nights like this when their company made your teenage years more bearable.

"Look!" Noah exclaimed, pointing to the sky. "Shooting star."

"You have to make a wish!" You say, following the trail of the star with your eyes.

Nick leaned his head on your shoulder, snuggling closer to you. "Yeah, Noah, you saw it first! make the wish!”

You nodded in agreement, "He's right."

Noah smiled brightly and tilted his head to look at the two of you. His eyes were shining with mischief and curiosity. "I wish-" He started to say, but you quickly put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from speaking. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true!" You warned him, laughing. You felt him mumble something under your hand and wondered what he wished for but didn't ask because you wanted all of Noah's dreams to come true.

The present:

You spring into action the moment you see Jolly turn around and look at the cord of his guitar. Something was wrong.

You had feared the day that this would happen but hoped it would never come. You wished it wasn't today.

Noah was already losing his patience with the crowd that kept brawling through the night, and the amount of technical difficulties that plagued the show made you feel like a lousy worker.

You sprint over to Jolly while Noah once again pauses the concert to lecture the crowd about their behavior. You're almost grateful for the disruption of the crowd. It buys you a few more minutes to figure out a solution to the problem.

You kneel down at the amp, searching for the problem, and you grab the cord, following it back to the guitar that Jolly is holding. His eyes widened, and he searched your face for answers.

You stick your pointer finger up as if telling him one minute, giving him hope that you've got this under control. You stand up, unplug the wire from his guitar, and race over to the chest. Lucky for you, only the cord needed to be replaced. You knew there was probably a bigger issue with Jolly's connection to his guitar, but right now, you couldn't fix that problem in the middle of the show.

You give Jolly a thumbs-up, and he gives a nod, mouthing thank you as you jog off the stage.

You hoped that would hold up until the show was over. You didn't believe in god but were now praying for a better outcome. You didn't want to disappoint the guys; they already had many issues tonight.

You sit on the side of the stage close to Jolly, just in case anything else happens. You were relieved when the band was no longer stopping for technical errors.

After the show, you meet up with guys backstage, giving them high-fives and admiration for their work.

You were so proud of them for all their badassery.

You walk them back to the bus, listening to them talk about the show. You hear Noah talking about the crowd, and he wonders out loud if they're doing something causing the actions. He's frustrated because this isn't the first time but hopes it will be the last.

You all rush into the bus, and Noah flops down on the couch. You sit beside him while the other three prepare to hit the town for the night.

When Ruffilo reappears in front of you, he has a sneaky smile on his face, "You're coming out with us right?" He asks you.

You shake your head and shut your eyes, "I'm really tired and going to pass out on this couch. This is my spot." You joke. "Now go, have fun. Drink for me." You say, waving them off.

As the others leave, you sit up straight, groaning, when you feel Noah's eyes on you. You know he's looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, which always makes your heart skip a beat.

You pretend to be annoyed and turn to face him. "What?" You ask, trying to sound casual.

Noah shrugs. "I have an idea." He stands up, walks to his bunk, and grabs one of the small blankets off his bed. He then hurried over to the small fridge tucked under the cabinet next to you.

"Do you have a sweater?" You shake your head, "What are you up to?"

"Go get one of Nick's sweaters, I saw one on his bunk. It's chilly outside." He grins warmly at you.

You raise an eyebrow, "Are you trying to get me drunk and steal Nick's clothes?"

He chuckles, "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile. You get up, doing as he says, and snatch the black zip-up hoodie he was referring to.

You walk back to Noah, who gives you the bottle of wine and slings the blanket over his shoulder.

He rummages through the small kitchenette, finding two coffee cups. "Guess this will do." He says with a shrug. "Let's go!"

You playfully roll your eyes, "Can you fill me in on what's happening?" You say, following him out the door.

You feel a cold breeze hit your face, and you shiver, wishing you had a thicker jacket. The sky is dark with glittering stars, and you can't help but stare up at the sky. You've always loved the night sky, the way it makes you feel small and infinite at the same time.

"We're going to go sip some wine and look at the stars, just like the old days. We haven't done that in ages." He says, flashing you a smile.

You feel your heart race again, remembering all the times you spent together under the stars, talking, laughing, dreaming.

He wraps his arm around you and leads you to an area that isn't too far from the bus but feels natural due to the trees surrounding the area. You smell the fresh pine and earthy soil and feel a sense of peace.

Noah lays the blanket down and smooths out any wrinkles. You take off your shoes and step on them, sitting down, "Hurry up. I'm cold and I could really use your body heat right now." You tease.

You don't mind the cold but love the excuse to cuddle with him.

"Is that all I'm good for?" He says, sitting next to you. He lifts his arm and lets you snuggle into his side.

You feel his warmth and his heartbeat, and you sigh contentedly. You breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, cologne, and something uniquely him. You feel his lips press against your hair, and you smile.

"Hand me the wine."

You reach beside you and grab the bottle, handing it to Noah. You hear the top pop off, and he begins pouring the wine into the coffee cups. You take a sip, and your face scrunches at the bitter taste, pulling away from Noah. You give him a look of disgust, and Noah laughs at your reaction.

"Who drinks this shit?" You take another drink, hoping your taste buds will become more accustomed to the taste.

You don't care about the wine; you just want to spend quality time with him, away from the tour's chaos and stress.

You lean back on your hands, gazing at Noah with admiration. He's too busy pouring more wine; you watch the red liquid flow like blood.

At this moment, you're convinced something else is going on with him. He seemed nervous and fidgety, his eyes darting like a trapped animal.

You break the short silence by leaning forward and reaching out to touch his hair. Your fingers linger at his neck as you say, "I like your hair when it gets longer." You admit while stroking the wild strands.

Noah smiles down at you, his brown irises soft and kind, "Why do you think I haven't cut it again?" He asks with a nervous laugh.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away. "You're growing it out for me?" You say, half-joking, half-hoping.

"Yes, I am." He says, his voice serious. "Because I want you to find me attractive." The words slip out of his mouth, and he freezes. His eyes widen, shocked by his own words.

Noah had only ever told Nick about his secret, and he always told him it was a crush that would fade over time. He practically begged Noah not to tell you. Nick feared it would ruin your friendships and didn't want to be the middleman if something happened.

"You what?" You say, stunned.

He exhales, biting his lip. "You know what I wished for all those years ago when we were kids in the back of your truck with Nick?" He looks at you, his expression hopeful and nervous. He gently grabs your hand in his.

You feel nervous at his touch. Noah didn't act this way, not around you. "You're not supposed to tell me your wishes." You smile weakly.

"I have to." He says desperately. "I've tried not saying anything and it still didn't come true." He lifts your chin, making you look into his eyes. He wants you to hear him loud and clear. " I wished for you to fall in love with me, to look at me the way you look at the stars."

You feel excitement in your chest, and want him to know you've wished for the same thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to wish anymore. I love you too.”

He smiles widely, and pulls you closer to him, his hands cup your face as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his tongue gently teasing your mouth. You hear his soft moan, and his heartbeat pounding in sync with yours.

You pull back, gasping for air, and look into his eyes. You see the same spark that ignited your kiss, the same desire that matched yours.

You smile and whisper, “I'll gladly make your wish come true.”

Tags: Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @niicoleleigh

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,359

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23. ⬇

Chapter 24.

Notes: Happy reading. 😌🖤

Chapter 23: A Warning

There were several places he had to visit from time to time. One of those places were hidden even deeper underground than the others.

He didn't feel anything in particular as he was walking down the usual path. The corridors were dark, decorated with black marble and faces of a long-tongued figure, and he enjoyed the way it enveloped him. In the dark, he found peace. In the dark, he found his home.

Upon entering the main hall, he noticed all the others; sharing his faith, looking for guidance, following his lead. But there was something different, tonight. The few torches that were lit allowed him to see that just in front of the altar, one of them stood with something in their hands. They were all dressed in simple black robes, and they all had their masks on. They knew each other here better than on the surface.

He made his way over to the altar and held his hand out for the other to hand him the implement, but the man regarded him with a pair of steeled eyes and did not move.

"Turn around and kneel", he said simply. The newcomer hesitated. "Can you take simple instructions, Chosen? Or is it beneath you to obey to Bane's words?"

The Chosen's brows twitched, just for a moment, before he took a step back. The circle closed around them, leaving no room for him to navigate far, let alone escape. He was trapped.

"You've been indulging in pleasures of the flesh for long enough", the man holding the black whip spoke again, "our God decided it was time to remind you that only He owns your flesh. This is a warning. Turn around and kneel."

He knew he had no choice but to comply. He knew the whip had nine tails, and that each tongue had small steel studs woven into them. He had to use it on others in the past; and it had been used on him as well, before he became Chosen. Fearless as ever, he obeyed. Baring his back for the whip shortly after.

Each lash bit deep into his flesh. The pain was indescribable, it dug deep into his body, right down to his very bones, bruising, tearing skin and muscles. But he did not scream, he did not beg.

He prayed and thanked and took every hit with as much dignity as possible. Even as tears prickled his eyes, even as his voice broke from the effort to keep himself contained. Even as he was shaking as his blood rolled down his back and formed a small pool under him.

And the hits just kept coming until he passed out.

He woke up in his chambers much, much later, alone, laid down on his stomach. His wounds were untreated, and they throbbed with so much pain he nearly fainted again. Pushing himself up to sit, he noticed that there was a note on his nightstand.

Urge her to kill Bhaal's Chosen, so you can take control over the Elder Brain.

If she fails to do so until the next new moon, she will be sacrificed to Bane.

In the past two days, she was following up on the clue Astarion told her about.

Trying to find Orin was impossible at the moment, but she wanted to see if Astarion was right... just to prove him wrong.

It did not go down well.

The very few people who were collecting the toys for the children of the refugees turned out to be a part of a much bigger plot. Gortash had been spreading the propaganda that nothing bad could happen under his watch, but Tav found out that he must have been the mastermind behind the literal bombs in the toys. After slaughtering a handful of Banites underground, it underlined that the Chosen of Bane had to know about this.

Oathbreaker or not, this went too far. Every time she glanced at the ring around her finger, she felt sick of herself. Sick of him. Sick of it all. She constantly felt nauseous, and she couldn't keep down anything solid from the stress. Every time she ate something, it came right back up.

No. This wouldn't do. She was naive and stupid for letting him so close, for letting her heart fall so much for him.

She had to end this, once and for all.

She found him in their usual meeting place, and he was waiting for her with her favourite meal already prepared. Tav ignored the stirring within. She didn't smile when he greeted her. Taking the seat opposite of him, she left the food untouched. It'd be best; she'd throw it back up anyway.

"I'll tell you a story. Do me a favour and don't interrupt me. In fact, I'd like you to stay silent until I'm done."

Gortash furrowed his brows slightly. Something was definitely off, but he couldn't put a finger on what. He could sense the rage that came from her direction, wave after wave, but he couldn't decide if it was directed at him or at something else.

"Alright", he replied at last, taking his goblet in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "You have my full attention."

Tav observed him for a moment. She had been thinking about telling the entire story to him in a letter, but she thought she owed him a proper audience. Still, her face remained serious as she began to speak.

"A long time ago, there was a newborn. This newborn was abandoned in the middle of the woods." Her throat tightened. She'd never told this story to anyone before. "Perhaps she was not wanted… maybe her mother thought that she wouldn't be able to feed the child, and she thought it'd be best if she left the baby to the gods. Perhaps her mother died in childbirth, and her father was furious at her for that, and decided that if he couldn't have his wife with the child, he wouldn't want to have the child for himself, either. The newborn was wrapped in a blanket, but she was left unfed, uncleaned, and she was wailing at the top of her lungs. Even though spring was on it's way, during the night, it was so cold that around her, there was frost on the ground. Her chances for survival were slight.

Luckily for her, two Selûnites decided to collect firewood for their abode nearby that night. They've heard the cries of the baby and decided to take her in. They bathed and fed and healed the child and decided to raise her themselves. They were both faithful followers of Selûne; two women who were in love with each other, both Clerics. They loved her and she loved them.

Thirteen winters after, the baby grew up to be a follower of Selûne as well. She'd passed the trials and her mothers were proud of her. In her thirteenth year, though, at winter, one of her mothers got very ill, and she passed away. The other mother sought the help of an old and dear friend, another Selûnite, because she knew they wouldn't be able to survive the winter without the help of another. This man lived with them for over a year.

It started with little things, at first. The girl was fourteen at the first incident. A touch to the lower back. A caress on her face. Lingering looks and bolder, more intimate physical contact. She didn't know what to do at first; he was a Selûnite, and in Selûne's doctrine Selûnites help and nurture each other. Perhaps he thought that was what he did. But it definitely didn't feel right, so she told her mother about it, and when her mother learned of this, she was furious.

The verbal fight went on for half an hour, but the physical fight was short lived. He was much stronger than her, she stood no chance. He knew who was responsible for the woman to turn against him, so he grabbed his belt and taught the girl a lesson she'd never forget: never trust anyone."

Tav paused. Gortash remained silent just as she asked, but the way his eyes darkened with the story told her more than anything else. She knew if he could he would've avenged her pains. Her hopelessness. And it made everything so much worse.

"He didn't stop there", she whispered now, and tears gathered in her eyes. "He took everything from her. Everything. Her hopes, her future… her innocence." She saw how Gortash's free hand balled up into a fist. "Just because he could. Just because he had power over a weaker person. But that couldn't break her, not yet. No, he had done one last thing that was too much for her to bear.

It did not take long for either of them to notice that the girl conceived from him. He ordered her to get rid of the child, but she didn't want to do it. Even if the circumstances weren't the greatest, for some reason, she wanted to have it. She wanted to give her own child a chance, a better chance than what she got at the beginning of her life. But he was having none of that. He decided that if she didn't want to take care of it herself, he would. And he did. By beating her until she lost it."

Tav had to stop again. She picked up her goblet and glanced in it, but as soon as she saw that it was wine, she put it back down with a grimace.

"When she recovered, something changed. If she learned anything from that, it was that she didn't want to be there anymore. So the next time he was sleeping soundly beside her… she slit his throat and watched him bleed out. On that day, she swore to herself that she would avenge every soul lost to cruelty, that she would hunt down monsters like that man, no matter if they hid behind a goddess like Selûne. She'd spent every day trying to right wrongs, focusing on protecting those who had done nothing wrong: children. Because, despite her prayers that remained unanswered by Selûne, despite her cycles returning the way they were after she lost her first born – she couldn't conceive again. And if she couldn't have children of her own, she'd try to protect those who were already born. To give them the chance of life she was never given by her own parents."

Tav slammed the goblet down on the table, splashing the wine around it as if it was spilled blood, and stood up, grabbing her bag as she did so.

"Which is why", she continued harshly, her fury returning full force, "I'm ending everything we have between us right now."

She tossed a plush bear between them on the table and watched Gortash's reaction. At first, there was no recognition in his eyes; he'd let her know nothing other than confusion. But then, she detected it: the realisation that came like dawn after the darkest night. And that was proof enough for her. Proof, which broke her heart.

"I'll never come to visit you again. Whatever we had, this- this relationship, is over. I could look past whatever I've found at Moonrise Towers. The toys. The children's letters. Because I thought they've been taken by illithids just like I was. I thought that was a mistake. I could look past your allies taking Mol, a tiefling child; because it might've been on someone else's order, not yours, despite the fact I've found her eyepatch on the same table where you visibly worked on at some point. I tried to overlook it. I really did. I could blame it on Baltahazar and the other True Souls. But I know now that I haven't only abandoned my Oath of Vengeance when I became your ally; I abandoned myself as well. I've taken a part in harming those I swore to protect. You were planning to kill the children of the refugees, and I'll never forgive that. I'll never forgive you. I despise you, and I never want to see you again."

It was hard for him to reply to all of this. Tav yanked the ring off her middle finger and dropped it on the table. He was still staring at the toy as she swung the bag over her shoulder and started to walk away.

He did not stop her – his throat was as tight as a drum, there was no way he could speak. Every accusation was true; he'd let others scheme and orchastrate that attack, he'd turned a blind eye to it, because he could've cared less about those who were outside his city. It could fit in his Accelerated Grand Design. There was no victory without sacrifice, every conqueror knew that.

Then why did it feel so wrong right now?

He picked up the plush and moved it in front of him, fighting with the emotions that bubbled up within him. He should've lied. Should've said at least something. But he couldn't, and now, he lost her. If she did not bring Orin down by the time new moon rolled around, she'd be Bane's. His little light in the darkness. His glimmer of hope. She was everything that made it worth it all; she was the reason he could get up in the morning, she was the reason he was looking forward to the end of the day so he'd see her. Because despite he had been chastised and warned, he still needed her.

And she'd rendered everything he was doing meaningless in just a few minutes, because without her, his empire he fought so hard for would mean nothing to him at this point. He fell and he failed, too fast, too hard.

The meeting room turned dark as dusk fell. He did not move to light the candles, he just let the darkness consume him.

And the darkness gave no comfort as it did a few days ago – because he knew now he wouldn't hold her in his arms again.

[closettedsubboy]

We wouldn't even have to run sweetie. I bet you'd present yourself, ready for us to fuck you the minute you hear/see/smell one of us. You're a slut like that aren't you?

-🖤

Hehe maybe, unless one of the mommies likes to chase her little pray then I’ll try my best to run away for her! 😣

Id love to just spot one of you across the hall and just kneel and put my face in the ground to await orders while I make a leaky puddle in between my legs. 😣

[kurts-world-101]

https://at.tumblr.com/bunnygrl-femme/make-a-religion-out-of-your-lust-for-me-build-an/hcjfj7846nlh

🖤

-⛓️🔪

I would kneel before you, I would take the holy sacrament in my mouth….. praying to a god like you…. My one and only.

[pinkzen]

P3🖤 1.4.23

One day, you're gonna understand

Zion

Unsure of what the balance held

I touched my belly overwhelmed

By what I had been chosen to perform

But then an angel came one day

Told me to kneel down and pray

For unto me a man child would be born

Woe this crazy circumstance

I knew his life deserved a chance

But everybody told me to be smart

"Look at your career, " they said

"Lauryn, baby, use your head"

But instead I chose to use my heart

Now the joy of my world is in Zion (Zion, Zion)

Now the joy of my world is in Zion (Zion, uh, Zion)

How beautiful if nothing more

Than to wait at Zion's door

I've never been in love like this before

Now let me pray to keep you from

The perils that will surely come

See life for you my prince has just begun

And I thank you for choosing me

To come through unto life to be

A beautiful reflection of his grace

See I know that a gift so great

Is only one God could create

And I'm reminded every time I see your face

[hawkins-losers]

Riding eddie in his throne and as you hit your high he picks you up, his c*** never leaving inside you, and throws you on the table and fucks you thru it to get his. After they just lay there saying i love you and panting and eddie kisses her nose all cute like b/c he loves her so much and they get caught by the other hellfire members!

Let's see whatcha got 🖤

⋆ May the smutty blurb spree begin ⋆

Warning: Smut, p + v action, riding, semi-public sex(?), almost caught

-

‘’I’m close,’’ you warned in a broken mewl, one of your hands holding onto the top of the throne as you bounced on Eddie’s cock.

Eddie's jeans were down to his knees and yours had been discarded along your panties. Eddie had pushed your shirt up to your collarbones, exposing your full breasts and allowing them to jiggle and bounce freely at your every move.

After-hours in the den were not for little kids – not that this happened very often. It was a 'spurt of the moment' thing.

Eddie reached down to your front to rapidly thumb at your clit, trying to bring you to the edge. As fun as this was, the school is going to close down in a few minutes.

The simple gesture had you throwing your head back, feeling yourself clench around his cock and about to burst. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-’’

A cry left your lips and, just as you hit your high and released your arousal around him, Eddie grabbed your thighs and stood, lowering you on the table right behind and beginning to pound into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You had to use your free hand to cover your mouth, to keep you from screaming at the overstimulation.

You reached for your tits, grabbing them with your free hand as the slick sound of your wet pussy echoed in the Hellfire den, mixed with your muffled moans and Eddie’s pants and groans. Eddie was close, he could feel it.

He pulled out, getting a puzzled look on your face.

‘’What are you-’’

Eddie climbed on the table, making you silently pray it wouldn't break under both of you's weight, and kneeled over you with his cock in his hand, heavy and pulsing and begging for release. You thought he wanted to cum on your breasts, but he asked you to open your mouth and presented his tip to your pulled out tongue. He gave himself a few tugs and the first spurts of ribbons came out, spilling on your awaiting tongue.

Eddie pulled back, jerking off some more and you swirled your tongue on his tip and collected everything he was giving with a light giggle.

‘’Fuck.’’ His own laughter joined yours. He pulled your bottom lip with his thumb, swiping a drop of cum and smearing it. ‘’I love you so much,’’ Eddie said, feeling hot and panting from his release.

The school would be closing soon, forcing you and Eddie to hurry and get dressed — and clean up.

Eddie got started with the cleaning, gathering all the game pieces in the box while you got dressed. Unlike you, he had it easy and only had to pull his pants up and buckle his belt.

You stood in your underwear, hurryingly slipping a leg through your jeans when the door opened.

‘’I swear it’s in here, I had it when- holy shit.’’

At the sound of Jeff’s voice, both your and Eddie’s head snapped up in the same direction. Just in luck, Garreth was by his side, looking just as stunned as his friend. What the fuck were they doing here? Hellfire had finished half an hour ago.

‘’What the fuck are you two doing here?’’ Eddie hissed at them, mentally cursing at the door for not having a damn lock.

Cheeks burning red in embarrassment, you finished putting on your pants. Thankfully, your shirt was back in place. The situation would have been ten times more awkward. How were you going to look at Jeff and Garreth in the face after this? Or sit at the same table during Hellfire without thinking about the time they caught you and Eddie after sex?

Jeff stammered, seeing the hint of anger on his Dungeon Master's face. ‘’I-I forgot my backpack. I realized halfway to Garreth's house so we turned around and-’’

Eddie grabbed the backpack on the chair and chucked it at Jeff. ‘’Here. Now, get the hell out of here!’’

-

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @luvmybbies  @chloepricesgrafitimarker  @inluvweddiemunson @i-like-trains @kittenfrostt @simp-for-slasher @m-rae23 @kenzi-woycehoski

Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend @magicalchocolatecheesecake @eddiemunsonistheloveofmylife @avril-reblog-cave @Fandomfaeryreads @harrys-tittie @straycatarang @fourlokiss  @eddiemattress  @ghoulishlygrey   @paola-carter @bubsonnobx @pauldanoswifereal @ofherscarlettwitchways @kiszkathecook  @truewdw1 @bubsonnobx @ohhrexella @Dreamtiara @pastelbabygirl19  @steves-robin @eddiemunsonbby @jenlouvre @bonked-beyond-belief2  @tvserie-s-world @bootlegmothman420 @courtmr @chrisxevans-seb @satinselenite @thikkiesixx  @jennilynn63  @nia-um  @welcometohellfirw @strangermarvelgirl @sugar-simz @fandomloversvaries @miakatharinaa  @julsss321 @m1rkw00dpr1ncess  @Minksblog @soph69420world  @ameliakf13 @nancewheelersworld @parasadic-blog @nluvwitheddiemunson @veniceb1tch88 @ali-r3n @Luv.eddie @stephylovesmayahawke @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetheart-im-the-boss @jusstdreaaming @hoeformunsonandhargrove @buckyswhxre @tomspidertingle @stormyparker @thechoiceslookgrimm @ilikechocolatemilkh @bbylyneth @bobafettsleftglove @princesseddie @yourfavdummy @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx

[mareyshelley]

A New Dawn

Summary: They all made it to the rec centre; everyone but Bev and a few who chose to follow her. He had intended to help everyone, but as the rec centre starts to burn, there’s only one person he wants to save. There’s one person he wants to make sure survives. A/N: Thank you @maplesyrupao3 and @nerdrumple​ for beta reading 🖤 Rating: E | Chapter 2/4: Full chapter on Ao3

Hands lifted her up. Grit and splinters fell across her face, and she coughed against the acrid taste at the back of her throat. Smoke. Everything smelled of smoke.

It reminded her of a time long ago, when she first knew John, and she fell off a rowing boat near the Uppards. That first breath of life as she came back up, the gasp of resurfacing, that was how she felt now. Strong hands pulled at her, lifting her up, and she clung to them. It was as close to panic and fear as she’d come all night.

Mildred opened her eyes, trying to breathe in that clear air, and found John kneeling above her. He pulled her from beneath a pile of shelves and bottles, and a half-collapsed plaster wall.

“It’s all right,” he promised, dusting off her shoulders and arms, and checking for any sign of injury. “Thank God you’re all right.”

She stayed on her back, panting. Parts of the rec centre still stood, the shell of it. Concrete and metal supports loomed over them, but it was the sky that caught her attention. The purples and blues and reds of sunset darkened the sky behind John’s head, and her last breath was a sigh of relief.

“What happened?” Mildred asked, lifting herself up. John put his hand to her back.

“The fire spread. Smoke filled the room.” He sounded lost, as lost as she felt, but he tried to explain. The smoke likely knocked them out, or the collapse of the wall did. So they weren’t indestructible, but they would heal.

Shaking his head, John stayed on his knees and she stood to shake the rubble from her clothes and hair. He clasped his hands in his lap, his head bent. He could have been praying, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure where either of them stood now, after everything that had happened.

“I didn’t hear them,” he muttered, lifting his hand to his mouth. “I don’t think any of them woke up.”

Mildred nodded and put her hand on his shoulder. “That’s good, John. It’s better that way.”

It took him some time to come around, and she let him take that time. He said nothing, no prayers or anything else about the destruction of St. Patrick’s and the rec centre. She could see the Church through what remained of the centre’s wall. Part of it still stood, but it was unsalvageable. She suspected most of the island was the same.

John shifted beside her and stumbled to his feet. She held his arm and back, steadying him, and didn’t let go until he was more sure of his footing. He was a mess. Bits of plaster and rubble coated his black shirt, and a smudge of dirt soiled his white collar. His hair was the same. She picked out what bits she could see, and he bowed his head to let her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

[Read More on Ao3]

[b1uejean]

22, 18 and 60 🖤

22 - favourite quotes

I have a few actually

"No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:

We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:

When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,

And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh

At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues

Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,

Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;

And take upon's the mystery of things,

As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,

In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,

That ebb and flow by the moon." - Shakespeare, King Lear

" I wish I was a girl half Savage and hardy and free" - Emily Bronte, wuthering heights

"sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you" - Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the shore

" if you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets" - Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the shore

There are more tbh but rn I have these ;')

18 - favourite part of your personality ?

I rarely hold grudges maybe because I try to understand so I understand the dynamic and even if I don't like them then it's more difficult to be just angry because yk you have some answers at least... this helps you heal a lot faster at least in some ways so I'm thankful of that. Also I'm pretty upbeat in person :')

60 - what languages can you speak

Italian English ..some Spanish some French but they are not perfect whatsoever and I should exercise more

[totopopopo]

beholding vibes, but specifically the archivist. you seem like the type of person to hold forbidden knowledge, lost to time, that should've stayed hidden. 🖤

Wow I am legitimately honored thank you for this assessment. I absolutely have too much horrible forbidden knowledge—does anyone wanna know about the Lactation of Saint Bernard? Its a miracle that happened to this dude Saint Bernard of Clairvaux in the 12th century; supposedly he was kneeling and praying to the Virgin Mary when suddenly she appeared to him and squirted her breast milk at him (from a great distance) curing his eye infection and giving him incredible divine wisdom abt the Love of God. Here are some fun pictures. I know too much and now so do you