#thanks purity dicks!

[vividxpages]

｡° ✮୨ৎ "lay it all on me"୨ৎ✮° ｡

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2100

summary: With the Queen and your betrothed Jacaerys’ delayed arrival, you are left in charge of the day’s council meeting. When one of the lords starts to speak of a possible bedding ceremony for your upcoming wedding, your thoughts begin to spiral badly…

warnings: the lords in Rhaenyra’s council being perverts and dicks, talks of misogynistic traditions and predatory behavior of men, sexism and misogyny, panic attacks, Jacaerys being a protective betrothed, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, crying, hopeful ending

a/n: I cooked this up so quickly, but I was very inspired yesterday - thank you so much to the anon who sparked a conversation about bedding ceremonies in my asks and with it, my inspiration for this idea! <3 this is for you :*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

When the messenger arrived at the council room and announced the delayed arrival of the Queen and her son, you had been optimistic for a moment.

Jacaerys and you, a team ever since your shared childhood and since recently betrothed with the blessings of his mother and family, had led council meetings like this together before and you were no stranger to the strategies and logistics of the war and Rhaenyra’s efforts in it. You just had not done it by yourself before.

You nodded in thanks to the messenger and turned back to the assembly of Rhaenyra’s lords around the table with a polite smile. It was only a matter of time until her and Jace would make their return from the dragon’s caves and until then, you’d do your best to begin today’s conversation.

“Well then, my lords.” You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath, looking into the round with openness. “I believe we’ll continue where we’ve left off yesterday? Is there any news yet of Daemon’s stay at Harrenhal? We could-“

“There is another matter of importance we thought we could discuss with you, my princess.” One of the lords interrupted you, a cool smile on his face as you leaned back in your seat. You cocked an eyebrow at him to continue despite your sentence being left unfinished. “Since the wedding with the prince Jacaerys will occur in the upcoming months, it would be wise to discuss the bedding ceremony sooner rather than later.”

Something in you went very, very still.

You blinked at him before you looked into the other men’s faces. They seemed to be in agreement of this rapid topic change. “The…bedding ceremony?”

“Yes, it is of grand importance to ensure the consummation of marriage between two newly-weds.” He explained to you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his old mouth. “It’s an old tradition and the lords and I believe it is best to follow it with the young and lovely union of the prince and you.”

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat, your hands suddenly clammy with unsureness. “I have not talked to Jace about such a thing. The Queen hasn’t spoken to me about it either. That’s…-What if me and Jacaerys are against it?”

A few of them chuckled as if you had made a good jest.

“My princess, is it not really a matter of choice, if you understand.” One of them explained to you before he suddenly turned away from you and addressed the others: “The wedding will be held here at Dragonstone as we know and I thought of a crowd of perhaps a dozen, mostly members of the family and this council, of course. After the celebrations, the prince will lead his bride away in the company of the Queen’s loyal and trusted advisors and then, the marriage will be consummated in a room large enough for the ceremony.”

You opened your mouth to object, but found your voice had simply vanished.

“Will there be sheets as proof in the morning?”

“I would actively support it.”

“There are clothes here at Dragonstone suited for such a ceremony, I am sure we will have them before the wedding takes place.”

“A purity test accomplished by a maester might be sufficient beforehand as well-“

You felt yourself drifting away from the conversation, one that circled around you and yet did not include you at all. Staring at the table in front of you, you felt your breath quicken as a distant howl swept through your mind, drowning out their voices as they went on and on.

In your mind, you saw yourself being led into a fully lit room. The dress you wore was thin and barely hiding your body, your arms protectively crossed in front of yourself as you shivered. The bed chamber was crowded all the way back to the tapestry of the walls with men regarding you coolly. Their hunger for the curves barely hidden underneath your dress was evident in their eyes, yet you had to walk on until you reached the middle of the room. Jacaerys was waiting, his own expression blank and without any emotion for you as he took your hand and led you to bed. There were a thousand eyes on you and you felt numb, your body screaming in protest, your mind begging you to shout at them to leave as Jace mechanically began to kiss your neck-

The wide doors of the hall opened and the men seated around you abruptly stood, their wrinkly hands brushing over their attires. The Queen was here.

You remained in your seat, your mind having drawn itself back to a hidden part in yourself, blankly staring at the fidgeting hands in your lap. When you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, the touch so familiar it could’ve been your own, you closed your eyes for just a moment. Jacaerys had come with her.

“What is going on?” Rhaenyra demanded to know, walking around the big table as she took in your uncharacteristic quiet state.

When your betrothed raised your hand to his lips in greeting, you looked up and bit your lip at Jace’s worried expression. The taste of iron coated your lips and only now you realized you had bitten your lip so badly, it had started to bleed. The pain was almost a relief.

“Are you alright?” Jace murmured, his hand delicately cupping your cheek and making you shudder. Your eyes were glassy, your cheeks red from shame and suddenly, a strong urge to cry shot through you, so intense you barely could fight it. “What is it, my love?”

You shook your head, avoiding his searching gaze.

The shame burned hotly through you and you wanted to shrink into your seat until you could escape these old devils. One of them, who had started this whole discussion about the ceremony in the first place, cleared his throat. “Your Grace, we were discussing possible arrangements for the wedding of the prince and his betrothed. There have been no mentions of the traditional bedding ceremony yet and the lords and myself were worried that-“

Rhaenyra frowned with a disgusted curl of her lips. “A bedding ceremony? There hasn’t been a tradition like this in my generation. Why would we burden the next with such an old piece of the past?”

You could sense Jace tensing beside you, his face dark as he stared at the lord. Would he look at you like this too, when the happiest day of your life would end with having to sleep with each other in front of dozens? Your chest hurt as you struggled to breathe normally.

“The princess has expressed similar concerns, but there are ways…There could be a thin veil draped over the sides of the bed.” Another suggested generously and you felt your stomach turn itself over. “Of course, it cannot shield the pair fully from the observer’s eyes. They have to be in sight, so it can be assured that she’s-“

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Jace cut him off, close to snarling as he flexed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He remained by your side, his stance protective of you and intimidating. “Neither my mother or myself have been consulted about this before and the fact that you’ve preyed on an opportunity to bring it up in front of the princess is close to treason. And yet you’ve dared to speak of such inappropriate matters in front of my betrothed, your future Queen? I could have you hanged by the cliffs of Dragonstone for such perverted behavior.”

“My prince, with all respect, it simply is tradition. It has to be guaranteed that on the night of her wedding, the bride is a maiden-“

The sound of your chair screeching over the floor broke through the room as you stood up. The sound of your own breath was too loud in your eyes, the lump in your throat only growing by the second. “If you would excuse me, Your Grace, I’m not feeling well.”

Jacaerys stood with you, but as he reached for your hand, you had already slipped away and quickly made your escape towards the wide doors, trying to breathe against the numbing panic in your lungs.

You blindly walked down the long corridor, ignoring the questioning looks of the guards standing on the sides. Would they be there as well, to witness yours and Jace’s union, eyes on your naked body when Jace had to deflower you in front of an audience?

You choked on a sob, the tears running freely down your cheeks now, the pain in your chest only expanding from keeping it inside for so long. You had never experienced a panic like this before, a powerful tide washing all rational thoughts away and sending your brain into overdrive.

Behind you, quick footsteps were approaching and before you knew it, Jacaerys had overtaken you and blocked your path, taking your upset state in with wide eyes. Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously and you came to a halt, noting how far and fast you had walked away from the council room.

“My love…” Jacaerys mumbled quietly and stepped closer and somewhere inside of you, a dam burst and he caught you as you fell into his arms, your body wrecked with heartbreaking and breathless sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you against his chest and letting you cry, his own heart aching at the stress vibrating through your body.

“I don’t want them to see…” You sniffled miserably against his shoulder, his arms tightening protectively around your waist, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I want our wedding night to be ours, I don’t want them in the room with us, I don’t want any of it.”

“I’m not going to allow it.” He assured you calmly, suppressing his own anger for the sake of your peace of mind. Later, he’d had time to rage and forge the feeling into action, but now the only thing that mattered was you. “They have no right to make these rules for us. You and I decide, together, okay?”

You nodded, your anxiety slowly beginning to ebb away and leaving the council room and its members behind you.

“I am so sorry I was not there with you.” Jacaerys regretfully whispered against your temple, soothingly stroking your back as you rested your tear-streaked face against his neck. “I am not going to let this slide. And I am serious, my love, I promise you; there will be no bedding ceremony, I’m not going to let them expose you like this.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes still shimmering with worried tears. “And what if we have to? I can’t do this, Jace, I would rather die-“

He gently shushed you and gently rested his forehead against yours, willing you to take big and deep breaths with him until you were breathing in sync and your shivering stopped. “We don’t have to do anything. You and I, we’ll be king and queen someday and I will not accept any disrespect towards you, not today or when we’re married, alright?”

You nodded slowly, exhaling deeply as you allowed yourself to sink against him, letting yourself be held and gently swayed from side to side. Slowly but surely, your heart stopped hurting and the clouds in your mind dissolved until you only felt him.

“Alright.” You whispered back after a while and his lips on yours, featherlight and oh so gently, were a relief after such moments of stress. When you separated and looked into each other’s eyes, you added quietly: “I want this, with you. All of it. I want our first time together to be special and a memory we’ll cherish forever.”

“And it will be, I promise.” He soothed you. “These old pathetic men will do good to remember their place before I’ll unleash Vermax on them.” He added jokingly and even managed to make you giggle a little bit at the mental image. “You know how Vermax adores you, he’ll eat them in one piece and spit them out, because they’re disgusting.”

You snorted tiredly and nuzzled his neck in affection, not ready to separate yourself from him just yet.

“My mother will deal with them.” Jace promised you darkly, a revengeful shimmer in his fierce eyes as he wiped the last of your tears away with his thumb. “And when she’s done with them, I will make sure as well they’ll remember who they answer to, my queen.”

He would deal with this.

And after he had put those foul men in their place, he’d make sure you’d be the happiest you could be and your wedding would be perfect and just the way the two of you had imagined for so long…

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if batsib also dies and comes back? Would that get rid of their status as the comfort person and stability in Jason's life?

This anon is referencing this post!

Hmm. This is such an interesting question! Thank you for asking.

I think it really depends on how you view Jason in my writing. I'll give you a few possible answers and you can do it as you will. To be honest my headcanons are up for interpretation. There's no right or wrong answer in fiction. I want you all to be pleased.

If you want my personal answer then it's the second one. Happy imagining.

If you took it as that he only clings to Batsis because of their purity.

Well i think the answer would be yes. But this would also mean he's not really obsessed with you but what you have. Your innocence and optimism is something he can hyper focus on. It overrides the demons and memories in his mind, when he's in his worse state, he can fade back into the thoughts of you and feel better. You give him hope that maybe the world isn't as shitty as his mind makes it out to be.

If you can stay unscathed for so long then what happened to him was just an anomaly. You are the perfect example of how he wishes he was. Blissful and un-traumatized, he lives vicariously through you.

You dying completely shatters his mind. He allows all of the bad to overtake him, there's no hope for a better life. It's clear the world doesn't want good to exist so why try to fight his demons anymore? They already took you which was the last sweet thing left.

When you come back, you're so different. He can't bring himself to even look at you. It destroys him so much. You're a husk of your former self, you're too much like him now. He hates who he is and thus can't love you the same way as before. Even the pure vanilla scent on you has a hint of death mixed into it. He doesn't like it.

he keeps his distance as far away from you as possible and is rather hostile when you try to interact with him. He doesn't truly mean it but it's all too much.

If you took it as he clings to you purely out of love and your purity is just a bonus.

He could never even think to stop loving his sibling. If anything it brings him closer to you. Your death tore him to shreds...yet you even in the midst he still held onto parts of you he had left.

Your memory..your scent still lingers just enough to carry Jason through the months of your death. He remembered the promises he made to you about becoming better, becoming just like Dick. He still wants to carry that through so he can be someone you are proud of. It keeps him from slipping back into the depths of his mind again. Maybe he even leans on the support of his siblings as well. He doesn't completely shut everyone out.

When you come back, he might be slightly standoff-ish. He's confused and conflicted. He's happy to see his siblings once again but at what cost? He knows what going through the pit is like and what it does to your mind. It looms over you and tries to rip your mind apart. You see and hear things that aren't really there...or maybe it is but only to the un-dead. He's hurting for you. He never wanted someone as kind as you to suffer like this. He knows the pain will never stop.

After his initial aversion, he's even more protective of you. Sure you may not want it but you need it. You won't be getting through this alone, you may be a shell of yourself but soon you'll be back to normal. Just like him you can turn it around.

It's nice to have someone in the family who can directly relate to him. It's like you both are in your own little world together. The other siblings can't have access to you the same way he does. He loves it. He finally has his sibling all to himself and there's no more competition. The others are the strange ones to you now...not him! To Jason, you're still as perfect as before.

[eyesxxyou]

First Time 💋

🩸・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.5k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, explicit consent, blood, taking of virginity, a bit of toxic relationship dynamics, logan is not a good person, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

You were dealing with the devil in disguise and you didn't even know it. For even the devil was once an angel, the most beautiful angel in heaven. That’s the way he tempts even the purest souls into damnation. And you were his latest victim.

Your purity was hanging by the thinnest thread called “virginity” which you were steadfast in not giving up. Logan wasn't pushing it by any means. Slowly but surely, you were giving up pieces of yourself to him. Giving away slices of your precious soul until before even you knew it, you had given him your entire cake. In fact, he had taught you how to give a blow job, confined you to let him hump against your clothed pussy, then eventually against the bare thing.

Logan was growing ever closer to obtaining you, possessing you wholly.

You had already gone home for the night when there was a steady, polite knock at his door. Logan, with a cigar hanging from between his lips, initially thought it was you. That was how you knocked, with a small rhythm and a tender politeness.

But much to his dismay, when he opened the door, Logan found that it was not you, but your father standing before him, still dressed in his Sunday best.

Now, for a moment, Logan thought that this was it. You had either been caught or in some sort of religious guilt, you had confessed everything. Either way, he was sure he had been busted and your father had come to wreak havoc upon him. Either way, he wasn't scared. At the end of the day you were two grown people who had made their decisions. 

“Mr. Howlett, nice to see you again.” Your father smiled. There was no malice or ill intent. You were both in the clear. Logan took his cigar from his mouth and put it out in the ashtray beside the door. “I hope I’m not disturbing your night.” He could see where you got your politeness from. Your father was a good, mild-mannered man. Average on all accounts. But he made a spectacular girl of you.

“Not at all, Reverend.”

Your father, with his hands crossed nicely at his front, was smiling politely. Logan wondered if he knew you had just been here. He wondered if he knew that he had his daughter on her knees with his dick in her mouth. Did he know that he came on your face? Did he know that your mouth felt like heaven?

“I was wondering if you could come by my house tomorrow. Unfortunately we have a bit of an issue with the pipes in our kitchen. I wanted to know if you could take a look.” It was innocent enough but the idea of being in your house made Logan almost swell and explode. He tried to hide the smile, the enthusiasm behind his “sure, I can take a look”.

“Great, thank you for your kindness, Mr. Howlett.” Logan can almost hear your voice in his. Small, quaint, unassuming. “You can come over in the morning. My family and I will be out but we'll leave the door unlocked so you can get in.”

Logan closed the door as your father walked off his porch, already looking forward to tomorrow morning. He thought of how he’d make his way through your house, into your room. He imagined going into your drawers and taking a pair of your pretty little panties to keep for himself. He imagined getting in your bed and jerking off until he came, right on your pillow.

He was up bright and early the next morning. With a small handle of whiskey to wake him up, Logan was out the door by 10 am with his toolbag in hand, a cigar hidden away so he could smoke out the back when he needed to take a break.

Your house was far different than his, bigger, painted a light blue with pastel yellow shudders and a white trim. It was the picture perfect house containing a picture perfect family. What a terrible person he must be to infiltrate such a home.

Your Father said the door would be unlocked. Your family car wasn't in the driveway, you all must have left already. Logan, with laborious steps, made his way up your porch, white wood, a few rocking chairs and a table where you must have put out lemonade and watched the sun go down.

He welcomed himself inside. Your house smelled like wilting roses and antiques. There were crosses everywhere, Bible verses on boards and Rae Dunn as far as the eye could see. Standard, religious, suburban home. He saw nothing out of place from your old brown couch to your wallpaper, pretty and bright.

Logan considered if he should work on your faulty pipes first or take his sick pleasure in your room. After a moment, he adjusted his grip on his toolbag and made his way through your living room and into your kitchen. He’d wait until he got the job done, then take his sweet time in your room. He’d make it a reward.

As it turns out, it was quite simple. You had the wrong piece for the pipe under your kitchen sink and it was connected incorrectly. Logan was halfway beneath your sink when he heard bare feet padding about the hardwood in the living room. He came out, a large hand on the counter to help himself up. His bones weren't what they used to be.

You had come rounding the corner into the tiled kitchen, dressed in nothing but a pretty, little, pale, pink nightgown that stopped at your mid-thigh. You paused at the sight of him, eyes wide and startled like a deer in headlights. “Mr. Howlett?” Sweet little thing, your arms went to cross over your chest, obviously not covered by a bra as he could see the peaks of your nipples poking against the fabric.

Stumbling back a bit, you swallowed. “What are you– my dad said you wouldn't be here until later when he came back.” You watched with your fawn eyes as he stood with a grunt in his white tank top, rough, blue jeans, and steel-toed boots. You were vulnerable, fully and entirely. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Naked under your nightgown besides just a pair of tiny panties.

“Wanted to get this out of the way. Didn't think you’d be here, doll.” Logan took a step towards you and you didn't dare take one back. Your gaze flickered to the side. “I was gonna go but I wasn't feeling well.” You’re all soft and meek and sweet. As if to prove your point, you let out a little cough. He could just devour you.

Logan looked back at his work. “Well– I figured out what's wrong. Should be a simple fix once I get the right part for it.” He looked back to you, eyes all soft. “I'm free for the rest of the day, babydoll.” You know what he was trying to get at. You were home alone, practically naked, the idea wasn't so far beyond you anymore.

You bit your lip. “You want to see my bedroom? I just redid it.” 

A smile twitched at Logan's lip. “Yeah, doll. Show me your bedroom.” You reached out and took his hand in yours, large and calloused. You guided him with your padded feet, occasionally looking back at him as if he’d disappear from behind you. If you were Orpheus, he’d already be gone by now.

You took him up the stairs and around the banister into your room done up in white, floral wallpaper. Your bed was neatly made with a single giant stuffed bear sitting against the pillows. It was obviously old and well-loved. Your room was just like you, soft and quaint.

Letting go of his hand, you went and you sat on the edge of your bed while Logan took his time examining this space you call yours. “It’s nice, really. Pretty, like you.” He stood in the center of your room, looking at you. You were fiddling your fingers in your lap, looking anywhere but him. You were thinking, thinking hard. Your lips twitched.

“What are you thinking about, dollface?” Logan made his way to you and grasped your chin in his fingers. He made you look at him with your doll eyes and your doll lips which you pursed softly. Silently, you stood from the edge of your bed, pressed between it and Logan's solid body. With your hands against his chest, you got up on your toes to reach his face and carefully pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss.

Your hands caressed his face softly, his beard prickly under your fingertips. You were still awkward and timid while kissing, but you were getting better at it. Still on your toes, you broke away from the kiss and wrapped your arms around Logan's neck. “I think I'm ready,” you whispered, voice quivering.

A better man would have asked, “are you sure?” A good man would have told you to wait until you were absolutely sure or even, to stick to your morals and wait until marriage. But Logan was not a good man and all he wanted was you, your entirety, resting in his palms like a baby bunny.

Logan dipped down and kissed you harder than before, with a feverish desire to take your soul straight from your body. His hands slid under your little nightgown, palms against your flesh, groping at you. Your breasts, your ass, the plush of your hips. You whimpered at how rough he was with you and Logan swallowed every squeak.

“Please…be gentle.” You pleaded with him. Your body shuddered as you felt the rumble of Logan's chest. He chuckled lowly.

“Oh, doll– I’m not known for being a gentle man.” There was something a bit feral in his throat as he spoke. “Come on, let's get this off of you.” He tugged at the hem of your nightgown, up and over your head, leaving you partially naked. Your hand immediately shot to your chest, shivering like a scared puppy.

Logan grabbed your wrist, despite his words, he was trying his best to be gentle with you. He didn't want to break you. What was the good in breaking something he wanted to possess? No, no, he didn't want to break you. Logan wanted you to be so thoroughly his that you'd never question him, your loyalty to him was what he wanted.

He took your hands from your breasts to get a good view of them. They were perfectly sized, soft looking. Your whole body was tender and sweet, with plush flesh and sweet curves all where they ought to be. Logan salivated like a pavlovian dog. He kissed you and palmed at your little, cotton panties, tucking his thumbs in and tugging them down.

You whined. “S-slow down.” Pleading as he removed them from you and carefully pushed you onto your bed. You felt too vulnerable nude before him. But Logan was already on his knees, between your legs, kissing and licking down your trembling thighs. “What are you doing?”

He put his mouth against your little love and you let out a sharp yelp. “Wait!” You never thought someone would put their mouth down there. It felt dirty. It felt good too. He pushed his tongue past your wet lips and licked your pussy before sloppily making out with your cunt.

Logan was a messy eater. All tongue and lips, licking and suckling against your most sensitive parts. His large, rough hands gripped at your thighs to keep them parted and pressed to your chest.

You never had your pussy ate and it was easy to tell. You were so sensitive to every touch of his tongue. Every flick against your swollen clit made your entire body shudder and a sweet mewling squeal left your lips. Your back arched from the bed, your toes curled into the air over your head. “Mr. Howlett!” You let out in a long, drawn out moan, your hand in his hair, tugging.

You tasted like heaven. Like he could find the meaning of life between your legs. He drooled all over your cunt like it was the most delectable thing he's ever had the honor of tasting, slurping and panting between rough licks. Logan felt that he could easily become addicted to this if he allowed himself to, the sweetness of you, the way you quivered.

But Logan didn't want you cumming just yet. He needed you to be on his dick first. He offered a few more desperate licks to your pussy before kissing your clit and bringing himself up to stand between your legs. His large, bear-like hands worked at the buckle of his belt. “You know when your parents will be home?”

You shook your head slowly, lips rolled.

“Then we’ll have to be quick.” It wouldn't be the ideal for a girl’s first time but if you wanted “ideal” you shouldn't have chosen someone like him to give up your virginity to.

You watched him pull his cock from his pants, half hard and almost beautiful as he pumped it in his hand. He was large, larger than anything you’ve ever taken before. You could hardly handle two of his fingers before crying. How could you possibly take a thing like that inside you and still remain composed? You were terrified out of your mind and as Logan pulled you by the hip towards the edge of the bed, you were starting to reconsider.

“What if it doesn't fit?”

Logan glanced at you. “I’ll make it fit.” He should tell you that it’s going to hurt at first, that there might be blood from your hymen breaking, but he didn't want you to back out. So he stayed silent, stroking himself to complete hardness until it could stand straight on its own. “Open your legs, doll.”

You hesitated but you were never one to disobey. Trembling, already on the brink of tears from the mere fear of pain, you spread your legs apart just enough for Logan to slot in between them and hold your hips. He looked at you and thought it best to reassure you. “Don't freak out. It’ll only hurt for a minute. I’ll be right here.” It was all vapid. He just wanted your virginity, your sweet, little cunny. He wanted to wear your purity around like a trophy.

Logan was not a good man. You should have known this.

He spat on your cunt, let the saliva dribble from his lips and land on your clit where it traveled its way down to your entrance. Logan played with it with the tip of his length, spreading it all across the rose between your legs. You whimpered like a puppy, writhing at the hips as he slapped his cock against your love and teased at all the possibilities of entering you.

He was right. It did hurt when he started easing his way into you. His cock, long and thick, stretched you out to a point you had never gone to before. You almost screamed or maybe you did. Tears swelled in your eyes as you squirmed against his hold. “It hurts!”

“I know. Just hold on.” He pushed his hips to yours and settled there for a moment. You were too tense. It would only hurt more if he continued before you adjusted. “Relax for me. It’ll only keep hurting if you don't calm down.” You were gasping, sobbing. “I– I can't!”

“Yeah, you can. Just breathe. Stop crying, doll.” Logan rubbed your hip with his hand and cooed at you. He rolled his hips against yours, coaxing you into whining. You let out a deep, panting breath, fingers gripping at the sheets of your bed. You reached out and grabbed your teddy bear to hold for comfort.

You pressed your face into the side of the bear’s head and nodded. “Go slow, please.” Your eyes glistened as you looked at him, cheeks still wet with tears. Your fingers grip into your teddy as Logan grunts lowly. “Sure thing, babydoll.” He grabs your thighs like you grip that stuffed animal, for dear life. You’re so fucking tight, gripping him like a fucking vice as he pulls his hips back.

There's a bit of blood on his cock. He ruptured your hymen with just one thrust. Logan pressed your legs to your chest as he fucked you, starting slow as you requested. He reveled in every desperate cry that clawed at your lips, every pined whimper that fell away into pleasure. Your toes pointed then curled, pointed, curled.

The pain didn't last too long, the blood still wet on his cock as you mewled. You looked quite cute holding your bear, your knees beside your ears, and you can't spread out around his slick length. Logan almost growled with each rut into your soft, silky pussy clinging to him.

It took everything in him not to brutalize you. Not to show you exactly what intentions he had with you. You were nothing serious, but you were his and his alone. He was not the type to marry but if it meant diving into a cunt like this every night, he just might put a ring on your finger to keep you satisfied and placid.

You were so dizzy with dick you might as well have fallen in love with Logan. Maybe you were in love with him. You were certain you were. You would have never given up your virginity to him if you hadn't believed that maybe, just maybe this might go somewhere.

Your father might let you marry him. He’s far older than you but Logan has a good reputation. He might not be a church man, but most accept him within the community. If you pleaded enough, if you told him Logan stole your virginity, he’d demand you two get married to save the family's reputation.

You let out a steady “ah, ah, ah” and “ohhhh!” with each thrust that takes the wind out of you. Logan likes the noises you make, how surprised they sound. You know nothing of this, of his evil, of his hellish ways. “Keep moaning like that. You're gonna make me cum, babydoll.” His hand slithered between your legs, thumb finding your clit toy with.

You squeaked, squealing. “No, no, no! I gonna–” you could hardly get it out before it happened, a great fountain of clear liquid coming from you and landing all over Logan's front. You always found your squirting embarrassing. You were mortified that you had got it all over Logan, still mostly clothed. Some of it even got on his face.

He bared his teeth, licking his lips like some starved animal. You were hazy-eyed and shaking with an orgasm so intense, you might as well have died and come back to life. “Logan– Logan, please.” You huffed, breathless and tired and begging him for something, anything, everything.

“Please what, doll?” Logan was rather amused by the way you writhed beneath him, holding your teddy so tight he thought you might rip it apart. He was so close to cumming, you made it impossible not to do it fast.

You shook your head with a great sob, tossing an arm over your face. “Please…don't cum in me! My dad will kill me if I get pregnant.” You couldn't handle the thought of disappointing your parents. They’d disown you, they’d…they’d…you didn't know what they'd do.

You sniffled as Logan chuckled at your request. “And what if I did, huh? What if I came deep inside you and put a baby in you, then what?” He liked how hard you sobbed, how you cried and moaned at the same time. Despair and pleasure all wrapped into one neat, little bow.

“Please, don’t.”

Logan groaned lowly, faltering with his thrust as his hips shuddered and his cock pulsed in the sweet tightness of your cunt. Just at the last second, he pulled out and came all over your pelvis and lower abdomen, shooting out great, white ribbons across your supple flesh. He didn't want to get you pregnant. He was a bad man, but he was no baby-trapper.

There was silence between the two of you. Your first time was not anything quite special but it was with someone you wanted to have it with so at least that was something. You felt…disgusting. Like a whore, like you dishonored your family.

Logan could see it. He could see the way you slowly dwindled into self-doubt and self-hatred. He took your hand in his and pulled you up into a sitting position. “Gimme some sugar, baby.” He leaned down and kissed you gently, holding your jaw in his hand, stroking your face. With a single kiss, your worries melted away into nothing, a void mind filled with only thoughts of a perfect life with Logan.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, your parents will be home any moment now.”

A perfect life not meant for you. Logan would never commit. He wasn't capable of it. He might want something nice and simple like a wife and a family, but he knew he’d never be satisfied with it.

Logan Howlett was not a good man. And poor you for falling in love with him.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 7: Virginity

Fboy!Steve Harrington x Virgin!Chubby!Reader

Summary: Steve never paid you much attention until the day he found your laptop open with your rice purity test results on full display.

Warnings: 18+ smut, mentions of virginity loss, kissing, awkward!reader, pervy!steve, corruption/innocence kink

It’s criminal that the chemistry teacher paired you with thee Steve Harrington. King Steve. How on earth are you supposed to pay attention to the lesson when all you want to do is swim in his golden brown hair?

You sigh dreamily, chin resting on your hand as you studied him. God, he never looks your way. You’d give anything if he’d just acknowledge you. Anything.

He glances your way and you’re so taken aback that you’re scrambling to adjust your position. Seconds after, you ponder on whether you’d see him move his lips.

“Huh?” You say, snapping out of your daydreams.

He lets out a quick laugh then a lingering smile. “I asked if you could get us a beaker up front. I would get it but I’m so sore from basketball practice, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh, of course. No problem. Thank you for asking me.” You say, cringing at how lame you sound once you turn away.

Steve purposefully sent you away for a chance to look over your computer screen. Today, practically everyone has been sending each other their purity tests results as some new trend amongst your peers. You knew you haven’t done much but to see how high your score was really put it into perspective that if you were olive oil, you’d be extra virgin.

You return to your seat, unaware of his snooping at first until you seen just how broadcasted your screen was.

“Y-you didn’t happen to see anything weird on my screen, d-did you?” You ask, heart racing.

“Wouldn’t say weird. More like…intriguing.” He smirks.

“Oh, god.” You groan, head resting on the lab table.

“So is it true? You a virgin?” He asks with contained excitement.

“Yeah,” You whisper, raising your head once again to meet his darkening eyes. “Is it hard to believe?”

“A little,” He ogles you, eyes traveling up and down your body. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be between those thighs?”

You’re sooo confused. Only a minute ago, you didn’t exist to him. Now he’s unashamedly flirting with you.

Steve brings a foot under your chair, sliding you a little closer to him. He leans in to whisper, his breath tickling your sensitive throat.

“You’ve never had that cherry popped?” His smile grew wider.

“I already said yes,” Your face heats up, cupping your cheeks to hide yourself. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed at all for being a virgin. It’s a really neat thing that you’re one.” He says softly.

“Why?”

He looks around the classroom making sure no one’s eavesdropping before he whispers, “Because it means I get to be the one who claims it,” He lowers his lips to your ears. “You want that, don’t you?”

You nod.

“I’ll need a verbal ‘yes’, princess.” He demands.

“Yes, I want you to take my virginity.” You breathe out.

“Good girl. I’ll text you when to come over tonight.” He says, rubbing a hand on your upper thigh before turning to pay attention to the lesson as if nothing had ever happened.

Tonight?! So soon?

You spend the rest of your day, butterflies in your stomach as you count down the hours until you’ll be getting dicked down by King Steve.

Six hours went to four hours and four went to three until finally the hour arrived. You followed the address he’d given you, recognizing it was some old cabin home. He’s standing outside waiting in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants that hang low. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he isn’t wearing any underwear, the outline of his rather large member is damning.

You take one good glance at yourself in the mirror happy with the casual yet sexy look you were going for before you exit your car. He walks up to you, throwing his hands around you and taking in your scent.

“You smell nice.” He says, hardness pressing against your belly and your eyes widen as you try not to pass out. Steve Harrington is hugging you!

“T-thank you. I-it’s my mom’s perfume,” You mentally facepalm. “I-I mean she bought it for me but it’s not like her signature scent or anything like that. That would be weird.”

He laughs, taking your hand in his. “You’re adorable.”

You feel him tug you away, guiding you towards the front entrance of the home and your stomach lurches.

“Is this your place?” You ask with a nervous laugh, trying and failing at not sounding judgmental.

“Nah, vacation home for my uncle who lives in New York,” He explains. “Don’t worry. We’re all alone. So scream all you want to, no one’ll hear you.”

You remember the rumor going around that Steve takes his lovers to this remote cabinet specifically for this reason. You swallow the hard lump in your throat as the door closes behind you.

There’s no going back.

“Could I have something to drink?” You ask trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating. “Alcohol, preferably.”

“I want your mind clear when I’m in those guts, babe,” He helps you over to the couch, encouraging you to sit as he makes his way to the kitchen. “I can get you some water, though.”

“Kay.” You say, fiddling with your skirt. It’s now or never. You needed to put on a brave face, you will not be missing out on this Greek god’s dick. You begin to pull off your sweater, struggling with it as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“What are you doing there, angel?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, ya know…thought I’d take this off since it’s getting all nice and hot in here.”

“I agree,” He says suggestively, placing the cup on the coffee table to help you remove your sweater. Once it pops off, you stumble a little causing him to wrap an arm around your waist to balance you. “That better?”

“Mhm.” You reply, forcing yourself to look in his eyes.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses you. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips before you follow his lead. You can tell you’re sloppy at it because when he shoves his tongue into your mouth it’s heavenly but when you do it, it’s all slobbery.

But even when you’re doing wrong, it feels so right because he’s moaning into it and as long as he’s doing that then you’ll consider it a win. His hands cradle your head, deepening the kiss. You can hardly breathe nor do you care to, clutching onto his shirt.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against your head. “I usually do foreplay but I wanna feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me so badly.”

That’s the second rumor you remembered about him. He usually says that very line to whoever he fucks. Only girl to ever have been treated to foreplay was his ex, Nancy. It hurts that you get a front row seat to the truth of the rumors. I guess that’s why they say never meet your heroes or, in this case, never have a one night stand with your crush.

“Can I please?” He pleads, hazel eyes big and wet as if it physically hurts not being inside you and judging by the way he jumps and throbs in his pants you’d say it’s a possibility.

“Yes, you can fuck me. Please fuck me.” You say, kissing him once more and he whines against your lips. He loves hearing how much you need him.

Laying you on your back onto the couch, he quickly removes your clothes off your body tossing your shirt, bra, and skirt to the floor but leaving you in just your white thong. He groans at the darkened wet patch, hooking his finger underneath to pull to the side.

“Look at that pretty pussy,” He praises. “You tellin’ me no one’s had the chance to see it let along be inside it.”

“Yeah, no one. Guess I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Fuuuck, baby, don’t talk like that or I might fill you up with my cum.” He says.

That’s another of those little rumors. He threatens to cum inside you. You should be revolted by this but you find yourself canting your hips upward in anticipation.

“You want me, babygirl? I’ll give it to you.” He pulls his sweatpants down just below his bent knees and a horse cock comes out springing and swinging.

You froze, mouth dropping. Oh hell no. You need to get out of here. The rumors do no justice at all to the sheer size of him. He’ll tear you apart!

Panic sets in as he hooks the back of your knees into the crook of his arms, positioning himself between your thick thighs.

“O-on second thought, I think I’ve found God and he tells me that maybe I shouldn’t…” You trail off when you feel his warm cock rubbing between your clothed folds. Oh, now he surely needs to be inside you. You’ll take the pain.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks and you whine in agreement. “Then, pull those panties to the side and let me in.”

[dilfstar]

an unhealthy obsession

creep!leon x f!reader 1.7k words. warnings ! stalking, creepy n crazy leon, voyeurism, masturbation (m.), noncon, somno, choking, piv, not proofread notes ! my yummy scrumptious delicious husband om nom nom.. thank u 2 my lovely wife 4 helping with sm @frzrbrde i love U

The sound of the priest’s voice dulled in Leon’s ears, each word meaningless to him as he watched you sit a few rows ahead of him. The simple white dress you wore highlighted your purity, the lace making you look like an angel to him. His angel, even if you didn't know it yet.

The sun hit your face perfectly, reflecting off the shine of your lipgloss. He didn’t care if someone caught him staring. Why should he? It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, right? All he was doing was watching his girl, his future wife! Simple.

His gaze followed you as you stood up to leave, waving goodbye to your family with a large, innocent smile on your face, completely oblivious to the way he watched you. Everything moved in slow motion as he stood up to follow you, each step precise, mirroring yours. He wanted- no, needed your first meeting to be perfect. He needed to leave a good impression, make you think of him later. 

He followed you out of the church, trailing close behind as you walked towards your place, clueless to the small object that fell from your purse. Perfect. His hands wrapped around it as he jogged to catch up to you, lightly tapping on your shoulder. “Hey, I… I think you dropped this.” he smiled at you, holding your hand as he placed the lipstick in your palm.

The soft touch sent butterflies to your stomach, a soft blush dusting across your cheeks. All he could do was nod as you mumbled a soft ‘thank you’, turning around to leave. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to think of something to say to you instead of just standing there like an idiot.

He stared at your legs while you walked away, wishing so desperately that he was between them, drawing out the beautiful sounds he knows you would make. Before he could even process what was happening, his legs started to move, following after you slowly. His steps fell into a similar rhythm as yours. Right, left, right, left. The soft thud of your matching footsteps echoed in his ears, every other sound fading away as he focused on you.

He hadn't even realized he followed you home until he saw your figure enter the small house, locking the front door behind you. All logic flew out the window as he stepped onto your lawn, sneaking around to the back of your house. The large tree in your backyard provided the perfect amount of shade, protecting him from any neighbors watching. He shouldn't be doing this, it was wrong, it was illegal! But he just couldn't help it…

He snuck up to your bedroom window, watching you change out of that little white dress into something more comfortable, more revealing. It was as if all the blood in his body went straight to his dick, the sight of you in just your bra and underwear making him ache.

His hand moved down, down, down, gently palming himself over his jeans, a quiet groan falling from his lips as he watched you change. The way you moved around your room, looking for clothes made his heart flutter, the urge to be in there with you, help you was strong. He craved you, your life, your presence. He deserved it, no? Leon was good! He went to church, prayed, took care of his parents. He deserved you, every inch of you. 

He leaned against the side of your house, breathing labored as he undid his belt, pulling his dick out of the tight prison his boxers were. You were sitting on your bed, flipping through a magazine only in a pair of panties and a tank top. You looked absolutely stunning in his eyes, your fingers dragging down the paper as you read sending a shiver down his spine.

“F-fuck…” he grunted, increasing the harsh pace on his cock as he watched you relax, taunting him without even knowing it. What would you do if you could see him now? Would you scream? Beg him to touch you? He had to know.

His brows furrowed as he came, a quiet whimper falling from his lips, thick, white spurts of cum hitting the side of your house. Whoops. He’d clean it later, yeah? He’s just leaving you a little gift for now…

He felt disgusting on his walk home, hands in his pockets, staring down at his feet. What kind of creep does that… what kind of creep watches the girl he likes, jerks off to them outside their house. Fucking freak. But was it so wrong? I mean, it wasn’t like he was doing it to some stranger, no. He was doing it to the girl he would marry someday! 

He paused on the sidewalk, gaze focused on a random crack in the concrete. It wasn't wrong. It wasn’t wrong at all! He was allowed to watch his girl, his angel without feeling like a perv. His feet turned him around, walking back to your house with a determined look on his face. 

The neighbors were occupied with their own stuff, letting him slip back into your backyard unseen. He crept back up to your window, heart blooming at your sleeping figure all curled up in your blankets. Silently, he opened the window, cringing when it moved a little too fast and made a screeching sound. He crawled in carefully, making sure to avoid the stack of junk by the wall.

Leon snuck over to your bed, gently pulling the sheets back, groaning quietly at the sight of you in next to nothing. His hand moved to your thigh, eyes focused on your face as he slowly moved your legs apart. He almost moaned at the new view of your covered cunt, his hand shakily moving towards you, lip between his teeth as he brushed against your clit. The soft whimper that left your mouth was music to his ears, a sound he needed to hear nonstop. His middle finger circled around the nub, drawing out the sweetest sounds from you, a wet spot growing on the fabric.

His fingers trailed up to your waistband, slowly pulling your underwear down, making sure he wouldn't wake you yet. He crawled onto the bed between your legs. “S’pretty… all f’me…” he mumbled as he laid down, slotting his head between your thighs, licking away at your cunt like it was his dream dessert. His nose hit your clit, sending a sudden jolt of electricity through your body, waking you up. The bright sun stung your eyes as you adjusted to your surroundings, hips bucking at the strange sensation. A loud gasp left you as you looked down, seeing the guy you thought was quiet and sweet lapping away at you like some animal!

“What the fuck! G-get away!” you tried to push him, kick him away, but his hold on you only grew tighter, strong arms holding your hips down. “Please—jus’ stop!” your pleas fell on deaf ears, his actions only increasing.

He pulled away, sitting up on his knees, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. “Where's the fun in that?” he sounded so condescending, like he was talking to a child. “I’ll make y’feel real nice. Don't worry, angel.” his hands moved to his jeans, quickly undoing them and shoving them down just enough.

The terrified look on your face only made him harder, encouraging him to shove into you all at once, not caring about your comfort. He shuddered once he was fully inside, your tight warmth pulling him in. “There we go…” 

Your eyes squeezed shut as you prayed for a way out of this, for anything! This whole situation was your absolute worst nightmare, all of it making you sick. He pinned your wrists down by your head, chuckling at your prayers, knowing you wouldn't be able to escape this. It was meant to happen! You were meant to be his!

“You really think God’ll help you now? Cute… but, this is destiny! This is our destiny, angel! Can't you see that?” he thrust into you sharply, adding to the pain, to the fear. The crazed look in his eyes made your heart race, almost beating out of your chest.

His hips slammed against yours, his mouth on your neck. Your cries did nothing to stop him, only egging him on. He bit down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not draw any blood. One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles on the bud, trying to give you at least some pleasure. He’s not a complete asshole!

He smirked at the quiet whimpers and moans coming from you, the way you tried to hide them was absolutely adorable! He licked over the bite mark, trying to soothe the pain, make sure you weren't upset with him. “‘m sorry, angel… I’ll make it all better. Promise.” his mouth moved up to your jaw, leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses all over. 

“s’good… my sweet girl…” he kissed away the tears streaming down your face, an attempt at comfort. Your eyes rolled to the hack of your head at a particular thrust, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right, making your legs squeeze around his waist.

“Oh? Y’don’t want me to stop?” he laughed in your ear, his pace starting to get sloppy. Each thrust more frantic than the last, almost desperate as he slammed inside of you. “‘m close… so close, angel!”

He sat up, his hand moving to the base of your throat, squeezing just enough to scare you but not actually harm you. The mixed look of pure fear and pleasure in your eyes plus the way your walls squeezed around him was the final straw, his warm cum shooting inside of you, filling you up. His hips stuttered as he pulled out, thumb still rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to send you over the edge.

Your back arched as the wave of pleasure hit you like a freight train. You stared up at him, eyes puffy and glossed over, tears still slipping down your cheeks. “…why?” was all you could say without sobbing, the heavy feeling in your chest making it hard to breathe. You still looked beautiful to him, all sad and broken, his pretty little angel. All his forever.

[saintsugu]

BROTHERLY LOVE. KINKTOBER DAY 1

rating: Mature; mdni

pairing: Step-brother!Megumi x reader

word count: 3.6k

contents: step/pseudo cest, heavy dub con, manipulation from megumi, megumi’s obsessed with purity, rich boy!megumi, vouyerism, masturbation, no prep, slight choking and coercion from yuuta at the end, megumi’s referred to mostly as reader’s brother.

author’s note: first thing i’ve fully written in over a year and it’s a kinktober post…😵‍💫 thank you to all the lovely people who beta’d this for me<3 @dilfhos @iwaasfairy @bunparade

You hear shuffling on the other end, presumably as he gets up to get the door for you. 

Taking advantage of his three day weekend, Megumi invited you to spend the themat his apartment off-campus. You haven’t been able to see him much since the start of the semester, so you were glad to take him up on his offer. 

You’d only met Megumi three years ago, the night his father and your mother announced their…impromptu engagement. Neither of you were really thrilled, but the entire situation was brightened infinitely when you started to get to know your soon-to-be step brother. 

He was always so sweet to you. He would take you out for food, or on shopping sprees— using his daddy’s card to buy you whatever you so much as glanced at. A lot of the time, it was just the two of you at home and he always made sure you weren’t lonely. Honestly, he spoiled you rotten, so how could you be upset with the arrangement?

Toji, though, was a bit…off-putting. He was a lot meaner than his son. You would hear him make comments about how ditzy you were, and it hurt a lot. Thankfully, Megumi was always there to cheer you up. 

You were so upset when he started university. He only visited on the holidays— sometimes not even then. The house felt so empty. You couldn’t help but miss your big brother. So when he came back for the summer, you were beyond grateful. Suddenly, your schedule was full again as the two of you spent every second together. 

Naturally, you were overjoyed when he reached out. Life was getting boring just staying at home, and besides, you just missed him so much. School had never really been your thing, so you didn’t follow your step-brother to college— despite wanting to —and your step-father was kind enough to let you live at home for free, so you didn’t work a job. It was a mostly stress-free life, but without your brother around, it’d gotten a bit…dull. 

When he called you, you were quick to throw a few outfits in a suitcase and catch the soonest train. You made sure to leave a scribbled little note for your mother to inform her of your whereabouts before taking off. 

The train ride is hellishly long, but it’s all worth it when you see your step brother outside the door. He’s smiling warmly, wearing a sweater and some gray sweats as he greets you.

“Hey,” he’s quick to pull you into his arms. He smells good— like freshly sprayed cologne with hints of cedar and vanilla. You’re far too enthralled by his warmth to notice his hands creeping down a little further than warranted, or the way he lifts up the hem of your skirt, his dick twitching a bit as he takes note of your panties. “Come on in.”

The second you step foot into the spacious apartment, you’re met with a pungent smell. It’s so strong that it makes your nose scrunch up. You’ve smelled it before— at a few different parties, but why is it in your brother’s apartment? 

“Sorry about the smell. My friends were just here a bit ago.” It’s not exactly a lie, but the red tint of his eyes is more than enough to prove that he was indulging, too. 

You spend the afternoon catching up with Megumi, listening intently as he tells you censored versions of what he’s been up to. He can tell how starstruck you are as you listen with bated breath. It might make him sick, but he loves how you’ve always hung off his every word. 

Ever since he was young, Megumi has watched his father go through women like they were nothing more than objects. The same rang true for the friends he started to gain in high school, and it wasn’t just the boys. He found that all of the girls were quite…promiscuous. 

He never thought there was anything necessarily wrong with it— until he met his sweet little step-sister, that is. 

That night at dinner, you were just so kind, nothing at all like the girls at his private school. They were all snobby and too good for him, but you, you were perfect; you are perfect. You’ve always been so malleable and kind hearted. He knew from the first time you went to get ice cream in his Cadillac, the way you apologized until there were tears filling your sweet eyes over a bit of spilled sprinkles. God, you’ve had him wrapped around your dainty little finger from the moment he met you.

“I was thinking we could go to brunch tomorrow.” He pats the spot next to him on the couch as he leans back, his ankle coming up to drape across his other knee. On cue, you pad over from where you are in his kitchen, plopping down right next to him. “There’s a cute little joint nearby that I know you’ll love.”

His kind words warm your chest, making your cheeks rise into a smile. He’s always looking out for you or thinking of you. He’s even sent you a few dresses while he’s been away! They’re a bit….small, but you figure he just got your sizing wrong. Either way, it’s the thought that counts, right? 

“Tonight, though, I was wondering if you wanted to meet some of my friends. They were all excited when I told them you were visiting.” Too excited for Megumi’s liking. “It won’t be a lot, just three or four guys coming over for a bit. Only if you want, though.” Even before you answer, he knows that you’ll say yes. You’d never deny him anything, but it makes him look good if he gives you an out. 

“Oh that’ll be fun!” You grin innocently. “We can watch movies.”

God, he loves the way you beam at him. Your innocence is such a refresher. But, as much as he loves it, you also make him want to tear it away from you before anyone else can. Sometimes, he just wants to break you down and build you back up from scratch. He knows it’s sick— that he shouldn’t feel like this towards his supposed sister, but he can’t help it. It’s just the way his mind works. 

As the clock starts to slip into the evening hours, there are continuous knocks at his front door, all one after another. Yuuji Itadori is the first to arrive. You’ve met him once before, during Thanksgiving break when Megumi brought him along. His rambunctious voice and laugh fills the air of Megumi’s, otherwise, stale apartment. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips when Yuuji slaps your step-brother on the back a little too hard, causing him to swear in pain and you both laugh at the scowl he shoots his way. 

Yuuji is quickly followed by Kokichi Muta. He’s much more timid in comparison. It’s a bit…confusing when you notice the light dusting of pink on his cheeks when he lays eyes on you. 

Next, Noritoshi Kamo, and lastly— and arguably the most important out of the four— Yuuta Okkotsu.

Megumi has been trying to find himself in Yuuta’s good graces since his first semester of his freshman year. Not only is Yuuta two grades his senior, but he’s the vice president of the fraternity Megumi has been wanting to rush since his junior year of high school.  

Megumi’s kind enough to introduce you to his friends, but you can feel your cheeks heat up when their eyes linger for a little longer than you’d expect. They all make themselves comfortable on the two couches, hands wrapped around the beer’s bottleneck while they snicker amongst themselves. You’ve been keeping Megumi company in the kitchen, but not paying enough attention to notice the amount of drinks he had brought to the couch. When he finally sits down, you’re close behind him.

“Here, have some,” he opens the bottle of beer and hands it to you, despite the confused look on your face. He knows you don’t drink, but he also knows that means your tolerance is nonexistent and that it's going to make his life a lot easier. 

Any words of rebuttal get stuck in your throat. Your eyebrows pull into a frown, but you sheepishly take the drink anyway. You don’t like being intoxicated; Megumi calls it an irrational fear, but you can’t help it. The drink feels foreign in your hands, but he’d never do anything to hurt you, right?

Despite the sour taste of the beer, you swallow it anyway. You don’t want to embarrass Megumi by acting like a fool in front of his friends. Yuuji starts a conversation and soon enough, you’ve finished the bottle. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied running your mouth to notice when Megumi sets another in your hand, and you obediently continue sipping. 

You don’t even know how many you’ve downed by the time you pause and realize your head feels dizzy. Megumi finds it adorable— the way your face flushes and your words start to slur. You try and fail to whisper to him about how tired you are, and it earns a snicker from Yuuta. Good, he thinks. I need to keep his attention. 

“C’mere.” You don’t think much when Megumi pats his lap. Your movements are much more sluggish and there’s a surge of warmth in your chest that you can’t quite place as you climb onto him, nuzzling your head into his neck. Everything feels so overwhelming, especially when you hear his friend whistle. You don’t know why, and you’re too out of it to ask or even guess why. Little do you know, it’s because your tiny skirt has been flipped up for everyone to get a glimpse of your ass. 

“Shit, y’gonna share, right?” There’s a nasty grin on Noritoshi’s face as he takes a long sip from his beer. 

“You wish,” Megumi mumbles lowly, a dark and possessive tone underlying his seemingly nonchalant words. Strong hands slide down your body before landing on your hips. “Hey, pretty.” His voice is just a whisper, but you know that he’s talking to you. 

“Yeah, ‘Gumi?” You ask sweetly. He loves when you call him that. Despite it just being a variation of his name, he finds it so fucking adorable that his cock jumps in his pants every time he hears it. 

“I need you to do something for me, okay?” He feels you nod and he can’t help but smile at how pliant and ready you are to please him. “Nothing new,” he whispers, and you can’t help but shiver a bit. 

“We’re just gonna do what we usually do—play how we do when it’s just us,” a soft hand traces hearts on your bare thigh. “And we’re gonna pretend like my friends aren’t here, okay?”

What?

This all feels…weird, and a little scary. But you know that your big brother would never hurt you— of course not! But what if he’s friends with bad men and doesn’t know it? What if…what if something goes wrong?

His words confuse you. Usually, when you’re playing together in the way he means, he always tells you not to do it with anyone else, that it should be reserved for your brother only, so why is he changing his mind?

“I asked a question, baby.” His once soft touch turns firmer until you squeak out an unsure okay, the sound muffled against the crook of his neck. “Good girl,” he purrs. “Y’always so good for me.”

You’re no longer able to think about how anxious and unsure you are as your step-brother pulls you into a soft kiss. Soon, he’s filling up every one of your senses. He’s the only thing you can feel, smell, or hear, and it’s nearly suffocating. 

It’s simple, really. He knows every single thing that turns you on and drives you insane; hell, he created those things. When you met, you were a virgin who didn’t even know what oral was. 

Despite his overwhelming touches, your attention isn’t stuck on him. His friends are all slumped back on the couch and staring straight at you. Their gazes make you feel trapped. There’s a tightening in your chest before Megumi's stern voice breaks you out of your trance. “Don’t look at them,” he scolds, a soft hand redirecting your jaw. “C’mon, baby, look at me.”

Nothing in the world can get him as hard as he is when he sees that look on your face—those big, near tearful eyes that are just begging for him to make it all better. 

As much as he wants to take care of you, there’s still a part of him, a sick and twisted part of him that sits right beneath the surface, too deep down to ignore. That's what’s making him do this. Megumi believes that these feelings can only be attributed to his father’s genetics. It’s not his fault that he wants to ruin you. He knows someone will take advantage of your naivety one day, so why can’t it be him? He deserves that much, doesn’t he? 

“You know I’d never hurt you.” You wouldn’t know the difference, he thinks to himself. You look so worried, but he can’t figure out why. Most of the time, there’s not a single thought in that pretty little head of yours, so what’s running through it now? Honestly, he doesn’t care too much; instead, his hand continues to slide down your back with no regard for your anxiety. 

Despite his words, he can tell you’re anxious. It irritates him a bit, but instead of letting it show, he just leans back against the couch. “Go ahead, baby. Take that shirt off for me.” The thumb rubbing circles into your inner thigh encourages you. 

Your throat feels dry as your big brother puts you on the spot. Nerves shoot through your body at the mere prospect of upsetting him. The thought of him being disappointed in you is a quick way to get your shaky hands pulling at your skimpy tank top. 

Manicured nails tug at the hem of it, eyes trained only on Megumi as you pull it over your head. The air feels bitter when it hits your skin but heat from Megumi’s burning gaze warms you. 

“Good girl.” His praise makes you melt, especially with all that booze in your system. You can’t even remember how much he had you drink. Every time you even began to try and protest, he would just press the rim to your lips and tell you to drink.

A hand on your waist pulls you in, and it’s not long before he has his tongue halfway down your throat. You’re so overwhelmed with simply trying to breathe that you don’t see Megumi pull his cock out. It’s already hard— pretty much has been since you arrived, and he’s not at all sly as he pulls your panties to the side. 

In contrast to yours that are screwed shut, his eyes are wide as they meet with Yuuta. Fuck, Yuuta’s gaze is piercing. It’s so clear that he’s judging him. Yuuta is leaning back into the cushion, his ankle crossed over his leg and his expression reads as if he’s bored. And that only spurs Megumi on further. He’s so desperate to show off in front of the man. 

He won’t admit it, but he’s had a slight crush on the man since he started University; honestly, it’s evident in the way his cock pulses simply from Yuuta’s judgemental stare. 

“G-Gumi..!” You gasp into his open lips, taken completely off guard. In the past, he’s always talked you through it. He would make sure you were prepped thoroughly before trying to nestle deep inside of you. Now, though, you can’t help but feel he’s being mean as he lifts your hips, just to force you down on his cock. 

“Shit,” Noritoshi laughs, palming himself through his sweats. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Fushiguro.” His words earn a disgruntled scowl from Megumi. In turn, you feel his hands grip you impossibly tighter, as if he’s visibly laying claim to you.

He ignores his taunts, far too focused on his baby sister’s sweet and tight cunt. Fuck, it’s tighter than he remembers. Knowing you, you never did so much as finger yourself while he’s been away. This past summer, he told you that he’d know if you had. Thankfully for him, you were naive enough to believe him. 

Soon enough, you’re tucked against his chest as he grinds you over his cock. You squeeze the fabric of his shirt between dainty hands; your hold is so tight he’s worried the threads will snap. The shirt’s quite expensive, so he should care about you potentially ruining it, but he can’t bring himself to when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

A vicious grin finds his face when he takes in the state of his apartment. Noritoshi and Kokichi shamelessly have their cocks out, jacking off lazily to the sight in front of them. Yuuji, on the other hand, takes a more…reserved approach. His lip is tucked between his teeth, nearly quivering as he not-so-discreetly palms his painfully hard cock. 

As you near your orgasm, Megumi takes advantage of your fucked out state. Usually, he’s so sweet and gentle, but tonight, he can’t help but be a little rough as he forces you into a new position. He manhandles you until you’re face down, with your tits pressed into the glass table. 

As much as he loves your tits, Megumi’s always been a sucker for this angle. With his hands having free reign of your ass, he could never get tired of the view. 

You’re pulled out of your near orgasmic high and thrown into the reality of who’s watching. “I-I…” you stammer nervously, still whimpering as Megumi fucks into you. 

“Hey, pretty,” Noritoshi teases, leaning in slightly. “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

You’re quick to deny his accusation. “‘Gumi says ‘m a good girl…” you turn your head to look at your big brother. “…right, ‘Gumi?”

“Yeah, you are.” He’s groaning as his pace picks up, making your toes curl as you grip onto nothing. He’s fighting back the urge to cum with every thrust. “My good girl.”

Your eyes roll when he hits deep inside of you—the sight is something straight out of a porno as your tits slide against the glass surface. All you have on is a skimpy little bralette, one that any of these guys could snap with ease. With your tongue lolling out, every single guy in the room, with Yuuta being the exception, is groaning and pumping just a bit faster. 

Yuuta, on the other hand, is just watching. Not once as he adjusted himself or even re-situated on the couch. He almost looks…bored, and that worries Megumi beyond belief.

“Fuck, Fushiguro, y’gotta let me get in on this. At least let me take her throat or something.” All Noritoshi’s doing is running his mouth and it’s starting to get on his nerves. In no world is he letting any of these vile men get their greedy hands on his baby sister. You’re too pure for that. 

“Be quiet,” he snaps, rough hands tugging at the fat of your hips. His eyes cut at his friend, a sinister look in them. The boy backs off, if only for now as Megumi gets closer to his high. 

You feel something brewing in your lower stomach. It’s not unfamiliar— you only get it with Megumi, but it’s more…intense this time. Instead of the slow and gentle buildup you usually get, this time it’s hurtling at you. 

“Gumi,” you stammer out, eyes still rolling as your acrylics scrape at the table. “D-don’t know what’s happening….!”

He’s quick to shush you. The last thing he needs is your whining ruining his orgasm. “‘S okay, baby,” he purrs, a firm hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you cheek-first into the glass. “Gonna feel good, I promise.”

His pace grows erratic with his approaching orgasm being so close. His dick pulses inside of you and with one last groan, he pushes deep inside of you as his orgasm washes over. 

His entire body shivers in its wake, and that feeling is only amplified when you start to twitch as well. Your cunt grows impossibly tight as your pleasure peaks, and your walls milk him of every drop of his cum— so much so, that it’s starting to leak out and drip down your inner thighs.

“Good girl.” He’s completely out of breath, but he knows the praise is what you need. The small sobs and hiccups that escape your lips are clear indicators of the praise you’ll need from your big brother. “Did so good, baby…”

A soft hand traces up and down your body and he can’t help but feel a little smug when he sees that three out of the four men came as well— Yuuji, unfortunately in his pants. 

But that’s only three, he realizes. It seems that Yuuta disappeared between now and right before his orgasm hit. Where could he have gone—

“That was good.” His voice is low in Megumi’s ear as he leans over the couch. Megumi freezes and he swears that the hairs on his neck stand up. His nearly soft cock twitches a bit at the praise. 

“Now why don’t you let me have a try and I’ll see what I can do about extending a bid.”

tagging: @pussydrunkfyodor @kkittycries @saintriots @chaoticmoonave @enchantedforest-network

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

offering

unbeknownst to you, zeke has chosen you to be his cult’s next virgin sacrifice. a pining eren knows exactly what he needs to do to save you.

cultist!eren jaeger x fem!reader

contents/warnings: mentions of murder, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise, corruption kink, breeding, protective and possessive eren, mentions of ‘purity’

wc: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

eren felt as if time had frozen around him when the name of the chosen sacrifice tumbled from zeke’s lips.

your name.

you, the kind girl from his english lecture.

you, who gives him a pencil when he forgets his own.

you, who explains assignments to him with patient words.

you, who shares whatever snack you’ve brought without hesitation.

you, with your soft smile and sweet laugh, who was going to be cut to death on the altar zeke stood behind this upcoming equinox.

“she’s a virgin?” floch’s grimy voice pulled eren back to reality, and it took every ounce of the self-control that already came scarce to him to refrain from knocking the ginger’s teeth in. “could have had me fooled, way too pretty for her cherry not to be popped.”

zeke chuckled at floch’s remark. “my source is never wrong, she’s completely pure. she probably will be our cutest offer yet, though.”

they were gonna kill you, he was supposed to kill you. eren thinks about you when he falls asleep, when he wakes up, and all the hours in between. his little crush that’s been festering since the beginning of the semester would come to a thrilling conclusion when he hands his brother the dagger.

he couldn’t let it happen.

to hell with the brotherhood, he wouldn’t let them take you away from him.

eren knew the sacrifice always had to be a virgin, that was the one golden rule since the founders first drew blood centuries ago.

ascending up the hidden catacomb’s stairs after zeke adjourned the meeting, eren already had his plan mapped out- he just couldn’t tell if he was thinking more with his brain or his dick.

it was time for him to make you unqualified.

____

“thanks for offering to tutor me, i really need it,” eren said with a smile, opening the door to his room.

“it’s no problem! i needed something to do this afternoon, anyways!”

you had that smile on your face again, a little twinkle in your eye as you looked up at him. damn, you were so beautiful. he hoped he could pull this off.

within a few minutes, the two of you were sitting on his bed, you holding a textbook open in your lap as you pointed to different literary techniques. eren’s gaze kept drifting off of the pages and onto the exposed skin of your legs, little skirt you were wearing riding up as you sat.

you trailed off in your description of a motif when you felt a warm hand on your thigh. blinking, you turned to see eren’s face extremely close.

“...is everything okay?” you asked slowly, face heating up. men were never in your personal space like this, much less one as attractive as eren. the proximity was causing you to become flustered.

you tried to stand, get some distance between the two of you, only to trip and land right on eren’s lap. your startled eyes met his shining sea green ones, and the urge to kiss him surged through you.

eren knew he was about to have you right where he wanted, having enough past flings to know the tells of a woman. he just needed to give you one more little push, one more and then he can put his plan into motion.

bringing a hand to cup your cheek, he spoke to you softly. “can i kiss you?”

“i…”

“we don’t have to do anything if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, stroking your face tenderly as if your life wasn’t currently hanging in the balance.

eren’s care felt genuine to you and your eyelids fluttered shut, leaning your lips up to meet his. the kiss was careful, eren gently applying pressure as if he didn’t want to do too much and scare you away.

you felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue slid into your mouth, trying not to make your lack of experience obvious as he explored the wet cavern.

a hand going under your skirt, however, had you jolting. grabbing eren’s wrist before he could go further, you broke away from his lips with a pant. “wait!”

“what is it?” he asked, already knowing full well what the answer would be.

“i’ve never…you know…” you trailed off, and something about the look on his face told you that he understood perfectly.

“do you want to?”

please say yes, say yes so he can protect you.

you bit your lip, unsure. you knew nothing about sex, and the unknown was always nerve wracking to you. on the other hand, you had this nice, handsome guy that you were already acquainted with offering to take your virginity.

not many girls get this type of opportunity…

you nodded. “yeah, can we please just go slow?”

“of course, princess, we can go as slow as you want.”

it didn’t matter how you wanted it, all that mattered was that eren’s cock got to split your virgin cunt open.

his fingers resumed their trek up your inner thigh, tracing the outline of your panties.

“i’m gonna prep you first, okay, baby? make it hurt less.”

“okay,” you replied, breath hitching when you felt eren’s thumb slide into your underwear, immediately going to rub circles into your sensitive nub.

the stimulation had you jerking instantly, not familiar with the pleasure that was being inflicted on you.

“oh-oh!”

“that feel good?” he asked, sliding a finger into your pussy that was growing slicker by the second.

“mhm.”

this felt so much different than from when you’d play with yourself, not realizing how electrifying it was to have fingers between your folds that weren’t yours.

he added his index finger into your pussy, dark desire twisting his insides at how tightly you clamped on that one finger. starting to pump in and out slowly, eren cooed at you.

“relax, princess, ‘m gonna take care of you. you’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

you nodded at his words, not knowing the double meaning behind them. eren started to thrust his finger faster, rubbing against your bud with more intent. mewls left your lips at the sensation, humping his hand pathetically.

eren’s eyes were trained on you. the sight of you crumbling and succumbing to a man’s touch for the first time was breathtaking. the brunette was starting to think this could be love.

your thighs were quaking around his hand, slick dripping all over his lap. he relished in the mess, knowing that now you were probably loosened up enough.

“alright, pretty girl,” he kissed underneath your ear. “i think you’re ready for my cock.”

he gently maneuvered you off of his lap and onto his bed, lowering you down with so much care it made your throat feel tight. tugging your panties off before taking his own shirt off, he looked down at you.

“can you show me those pretty titties, princess?”

you blinked up at him dreamily, obeying his command as your shirt joined his on the floor. not even a second had passed after your bra fell from your shoulders when his large hands were cupping your breasts, squeezing at them in a way that had your eyes screwing shut.

“eren!”

he gave you a little kiss on your forehead as he leaned over you, palms leaving your chest as he grabbed a pillow to place under your hips. you took a deep breath, trying to settle your jittery nerves as you observed eren remove the rest of his clothing.

eren stopped you when you tried to take your skirt off.

“leave it.”

he pushed it out of the way, your glossy cunt appearing. the view of you completely naked with just your skirt bunched around your waist had eren’s mind shortcircuiting. he wanted to burn this image into his memory forever, and knowing he would be the first person to ever see you like this was even better.

if he had it his way, he’d be the only.

spreading your thighs open wider, eren slotted himself in between them. he grabbed hold of your hips, bringing them closer in a way that had your whole body being dragged down the bed. you yelped at his display of strength.

“sorry, princess,” he said with a sheepish smile. his tip prodded at your entrance. “deep breath f’ me, okay?”

the way he pierced you open was addicting, every inch of his dick spearing your virgin walls had your toes curling. you didn’t expect penetration to feel this good the first time. all your friends told you it would hurt the first several tries, but leave it to eren jaeger to throw you for yet another loop.

you felt his pubic bone become flush against yours.

“taking all of me your very first go? such a good fucking girl, damn.”

it was done. your virginity was his. zeke could no longer butcher you on that cold, stone altar in front of his whole brotherhood. eren had never felt so proud of himself, the knowledge that his girl was now safe and sound due to his plan had his skin tingling in excitement. he tightened his grip on your hips, trying so hard to keep himself grounded. he had promised you slow.

yet, as always, you proved to be heaven-sent.

“eren,” you babbled to him. “move, please! wan’ you to move.”

the frenzied gleam in his eye made your pussy throb. the brunette wasted no time in listening to your plea, bucking into you like his life depended on it- oh, the irony.

you screamed out, hands flying to fist the sheets beside you as eren kept your pelvis locked in place, subject to thrust after thrust of his cock. the pleasure was already swirling inside you as if it was a tornado, the high that was building from earlier now picking back up its rise.

“feel so good, so good, fuck.”

never had he been in a cunt this warm and tight. eren intended on molding it to the shape of him, ruining it for anyone else. he’d make sure you wouldn’t even want anyone else.

“perfect, princess,” he grit out. “fucking perfect pussy.”

his praise and pace made you feel lightheaded, falling further into the haze of ecstasy he was shrouding you in. you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“i-i think ‘m close…”

“yeah? me too baby.”

with the way you were gripping him, it was a miracle eren hadn’t already busted. he angled his hips to hit even deeper, adding a finger to your clit again in hopes of finishing the both of you off.

“where do you want me?”

your answer shocked him. “inside!”

fuck, you were gonna be the death of him.

“my princess wants to be filled up, huh?”

who was he to deny you?

one final plunge into your walls timed perfectly with the rub of his thumb had you clenching hard on his dick, muscles spasming as you orgasmed. eren was spurred into his own climax, spilling into you. his eyes were glued to your face, your cockdrunk expression almost enchanting to him as he watched you fall apart.

slowly pulling out, the brunette was in awe at his cum leaking out of you. deciding to worry about his sheets later, he crawled up the bed to see your drooping eyes.

laying down next to you, eren engulfed your frame with his. he held your head against his chest as you drifted off, exhaustion taking over.

____

zeke put his book down as he heard his phone ping, surprised to see he had gotten a text from eren. his brother hardly ever messaged him.

his interest was piqued even more when he saw it was a picture.

opening the image, however, had zeke wanting to chuck the device across the room.

while eren made sure to have the covers pulled up enough, the blonde could still tell it was you from your side profile resting on his brother’s torso.

another ping.

“you might need to pick a new offering, my bad.”

zeke knew the smug bastard didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.

____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

When Team RWBY found Jaune in the ever after he was nothing more than a mindless beast roaming the fairytale. So they did what any good friends would do and trained him into their obedient pet. Now all they had to do was say the word and he would do whatever they wanted. From eating them out for hours to getting them drinks. All they needed to complete the look was a collar and leash.

Team Rwby stared in awe at the figure, lumbering around the burning marketplace. A rusty and damaged great sword dragged behind it as it lumbered around aimlessly(Think Artorias from dark souls). Trudging a bit closer, they saw what appeared to be a set of white armor, now rusty as it's weapon

"Its the Rusted Knight!" exclaimed Blake, concerned covering her face, "But....what happened to him?"

As they closed in, the rusty knight whipped his head in their direction, seemingly sensing their presence. The group gasped collectively at the revelation of the rusty knight's identity.

"Jaune...." Ruby gasped, a hand covered her mouthing her mouth in shock.

Hearing her voice, he let out a nearly inhuman screech and got into a battle-ready stance. The girls mimicked his acts, saddened that they must fight their old friend.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"AH, Right there" Weiss howled, rolling her hips as she rode Jaune.

Ruby stared at the two with slight guilt and sorrow. After defeating the animalistic Jaune, they tried their best to get him to remember who he once was, however, it was all in vain. they asked the curious cat for help, but he said there was nothing he could do. Though Ruby suspected there was more to this story by how he acted and looked at jaune.

"Gods, I dreamt about this for so long!" Blake moaned, her own hips grinding against his face, his blonde beard slick with her juices. Next to her girlfriend, Yang, knelt grinding her own slick pussy against one of his hands.

In the end, all they could do was train him as they did Zwei, her pet corgi. It proved to be somewhat effective, he would listen to their commands, didn't attack unless they gave the order, and retrieved food and drinks for them from time to time. He even lead them to a village of paper stars where they currently live.

"He's cumming! Oh gods, cumming inside me puppy~" Weiss cried, her own climax rapidly approaching.

"Hey Rubes, You wanna get in on this?" Yand called out, practically shoving Weiss of his cock so she could ride it.

Ruby turned her back to her in response. At some point, she couldn't tell when due to time working differently here, her teammates began using Jaune to relieve sexual tension they accumulated over time. It started when she caught Weiss having Jaune eat her out. then she found Blake licking his cock like a lollipop. And finally she caught Yang, her own sister being fucked doggystyle while everyone else slept. Each time, she scolded them, demanding they swear never to take advantage of their friend. But the sight before her shown they clear forgotten their promise. All the whole she, abstained from joining them.

"Jeez, Rubes...Lighten up. we're stuck here for god knows how much longer, You might as well have some fun" Yang called out, refusing to cease her actions

"I'd rather not Violate our friend, thank you" she replied, ignoring the moist and burning from her loins.

"suite yourself, but your missing out on some prime dick"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Ruby laid outside with her legs spread wide. Between them was her blonde pet, thrusting deep inside her.

"That's right , Jaune." she panted "just like that"

In truth, Ruby was a bit of a hypocrite, having lost her purity the first night they reunited with Jaune. Since then she slept with him every night, feeling his warmth as he injected her with his seed. She often thought about letting impregnate her, but since he wasn't all there, it would be as perfect as she wanted.

"don't worry Jaune. I'll get you back to normal" she promised,

Though deep in her heart, she knew it would never happen.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I have no fucking sympathy for anyone bitching about watching their fave actor go full murder fucker getting mad that the show is about vigilantes.

Oh, you want the gif sets of your fave neck-stabbing a dude?

But you want the moral superiority points of being anti-vigilante?

Your medal's in the fucking mail. From Marvel Studios.

The only reason I'm NOT watching Reacher is because I hear the violence is brutal in the Daredevil model, and that's too much for me. Which is a shame. Because I fucking love vigilante shit, and from the gifs I've seen, Ferdie is doing great work being the stabby guy.

Purity culture is a fucking cancer.

Me, seeing this elitist bullshit for the nth time in my Reacher gifsets because people don't know when to shut the fuck up and just thirst instead without getting all "I'm too Enlightened for a show like this": 🙃 I could just easily not gif this "stupid show" if you keep complaining like this, but please. Continue.

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 8

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Angst, smut if you squint.

Masterlist

Authors note: Nothing too exciting, just wrapping up the events of last chapter and setting up for the events of this one. Dream sequence is loosely inspired by the sleep paralysis demon fic called Simply I Am, phenomenally written by @throughwoodsanddirt and @rottingfern

Banner by @flowerynerds

Noah couldn’t get  it up. Perhaps it was everything he’d had to drink that night. An attractive brunette—she introduced herself as Brittany—was on her knees in front of him, palming him over his jeans while his head spun. 

It might have been the beer. It may have also been the liquor. It probably wasn’t the weed—that usually increased his sexual response. 

It could have been that the girl in front of him wasn’t you. 

God, you were so perfect. And he was fully aware that perfection didn’t actually exist and that you most certainly had flaws, but there was something about you that screamed perfection , and he wasn’t about to fight with it. 

Your red dress in particular was sinful tonight, and not sinful in the way where you were showing too much skin or were in any way immodest, but sinful in the things he wanted to do to you while you wore it. 

He wanted to see you on your knees in it, eyeliner running down your cheeks, lipstick smeared down your mouth, sobbing up at him while he painted that fucking dress with his cum. 

What was wrong with him? 

He had no control over his thoughts when it came to you. And Noah was not in any way a pious man, but the lust he felt for you made him want to be one if only to escape from the fucking snare you unknowingly, unintentionally laid out for him. 

God! 

He leaned forward, lovingly caressing the chin of the woman in front of him. Saliva drooled down her parted lips as she stared innocently up, placing unearned trust in him. He guided her mouth to his, tilting her head back and forcing saliva into her dripping mouth and down her throat as if it were a gift to her. 

Why did he treat people like this? 

Well, he knew the short answer—because they wanted him to. 

She licked her lips, humming in satisfaction and smiled up at him. 

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and he had to force himself not to roll his eyes because what the fuck was that? 

You had roasted him for wanting to be called Daddy in bed. He huffed out a laugh. Brittany thought it was because he was pleased with her, and he wished that were the case, but it wasn’t. He was only half-present with her. 

Fuck, he loved it when you roasted him. He desperately needed to be humbled by you. He’d do anything to have you do it again. 

Anything except text you back. Or go to church. Or put any effort into forming a relationship with you because he was a fucking terrified little bitch who couldn’t get over himself to save his life. 

“Thank you, Brittany. You’re dismissed,” he muttered and oh , did she eat that right up. 

“Thank you, sir,” she said, fucking curtseying before exiting the room. 

Another satisfied customer and he didn’t even have to get his dick out. 

He had gone to see you that night, but he didn’t stay. He’d peeked through the doors, caught one look at you all dressed up on stage, and immediately panicked, hiding by himself on the edge of the foyer, back to the wall while you nearly brought him to goddamn tears with your hymn. 

He left halfway through the song, unable to stomach any more of it. 

Noah is a stoic person. He prefers it that way. Throughout his life, he’d offer people brief glimpses into his psyche through his music or his lyrics. Never too much though—he’d cover it up with layers upon layers of metaphor and allegory, sometimes going as far as making up entire false stories to throw people off his trail so they couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. 

Which is to say he’s not exactly the best at letting people in. 

You would demand to be let in, and that terrified the shit out of him. 

It was unfortunately, not something he was ready for. And he hated that it hurt you—he really did. He hoped you’d understand and forgive him eventually. 

He’d try, though. For you, he would try. 

And that started with avoiding you while he got his shit together. 

________

Stepping under the shower was like a spiritual experience for you, except this time, you were washing off the filth of the church. 

You were done with it, you’d decided. For as long as you could be. Obviously, your parents would make you attend whenever you visited home over summers and holidays, but as far as you were concerned, you’d had enough. 

Isaac was really something. He knew your stance on reproductive rights. Or at least he should have, if he’d been paying any attention. 

You squirted a dollop of shampoo into your palms and rubbed them together, creating a lather for your hair. 

You hadn’t exactly been quiet about your feelings. 

Okay, yes. You hadn’t always been the staunch defender of reproductive rights that you were today. There was a time several years ago that you, Isaac, Ava, and many other members of your father’s congregation had loaded onto a bus and rode to Washington, D.C., where you participated in the annual March for Life. 

You’d had the same views on the issue as Isaac and many other church members—you felt that all innocent life should be protected, viewing abortion as murder. 

It wasn’t until Stevie had sat you down and patiently explained to you the harm that the pro-life movement has caused that your views started to shift. Since then, you’d been vocal about your concerns, but had always been shut down by church leaders. They never wanted to answer your questions or hear you out on the matter. 

With the shampoo lathered and rinsed, you turned to the conditioner—it was your favorite. It smelled like coconut and argan oil and left your hair feeling silky smooth. 

A banging sounded from the other end of the communal bathroom. You recognized it as someone coming through the door. Actually, it sounded like several people. 

“And he said he was busy?” one of them asked. 

“Yeah,” said another voice. “He had some event or something he had to go to tonight, but he might be free later.” 

“What about Jolly’s party?” 

Your ears twitched at the mention of Jolly and you stilled, pausing in the middle of reaching for your loofah. 

Someone scoffed. “I’d rather not. I’m getting tired of Noah.” 

You inhaled sharply. 

“That’s not what you said the other day Madison,” someone giggled. 

There was a brief pause in conversation. You leaned closer to the shower curtain to hear what was happening, old mildew that clung to it stinging the insides of your nose. 

“He texted me again tonight, but I told him I was busy.” 

“Shut up. You did not.” Whoever was speaking sounded positively scandalized. 

“He was hot at first, but he’s too needy these days.” 

“Girl, no way. Every other person alive would be dying at the chance to sleep with him. He’s so hot.” 

“You can have him then,” said the other girl—Madison. “I’m getting a little tired of the whole tortured musician act anyway.” 

So that’s where Noah was. Probably at a party, hooking up with some random girl since the one he was after had passed on the chance. 

You laughed softly and bitterly to yourself, hoping not to be overheard. Of course. 

A clearer picture started to form in your head. The pieces began to fall into place. Noah had never intended to come to your showcase. He’d probably only said that to get you to trust him. Then once he had his fun, he was done with you. 

He’d been so convincing. That night after his show when he’d comforted you? Or that day in the freezing rain? You could have sworn he truly cared, but maybe he was just way more convincing than you had realized. 

Why had he only stopped at phone sex? Why wouldn’t he have gone all the way? 

Maybe because he sensed it would take too much time and effort to convince you to lose your virginity. 

You sank down into a crouch, hugging your knees to your chest. 

Was it really all just pretend? 

_________

You allowed yourself one night to cry—you’d earned it, and you’d give that to yourself. Cry, you did–big, heaving sobs that had you clutching at your blankets and screaming into your pillows. Ugly, messy weeping. The kind you knew would result in your growth, which is why you welcomed it, wandering down the hall with your swollen, tear-stained face on display to steal toilet paper from the communal bathroom, since you’d used up all your tissues. 

It was humbling, and it was profound. 

Cathartic. You needed a good cry like this, because whether you liked it or not, Noah had changed you and for that you were grateful, but now he was gone. The lessons he gave you were real, but the motives behind those lessons had all been fake, and that felt like a massive loss. 

That wasn’t the only thing you cried about, however. You grieved your faith. It wasn’t gone—not completely at least, but it was slipping through your fingers. All the physical tethers you’d had to your faith—the church, the choir, your father. Isaac—they’d been severed. Tainted with trauma and cruelty. 

What were you if not a Christian? You still had a deep sense of spirituality and a connection to the divine, or so you thought. But you didn’t know what it meant anymore, or how to express it. Was the divinity you felt connected to the same God that you learned about in the Bible? Or was it something else entirely? The confusing thoughts swirled through your head, overwhelming you. 

Perhaps you didn’t have to answer all those questions tonight. You’d settle for grieving your losses. 

You cried until you fell asleep, and when you woke up, you cried again. 

It was Saturday morning, and you were meant to monitor community service again, but one look at your big, red, puffy eyes in the mirror and you knew you were in no state to be seen in public. 

You doubted that Noah would show his face, but you didn’t want to give him the opportunity. You sent a group text to both Noah and Nick telling them that community service was canceled that morning, and then, with nothing better to do, you went back to bed and allowed yourself to cry some more. 

________

Something moved between your legs. Something big and warm. You thrashed, trying to kick off the sheets that had become tangled around your thighs. “Shhhh, just relax,” soothed a deep, familiar voice. Long nails caressed your outer thighs. 

You finally managed to free yourself, throwing the sheets off you and were met with Noah’s face looking up at you from between your knees. He wore the same blackout contact lenses and demon horns from Halloween, but something about them looked more convincing. 

“Noah?” you asked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Shhhh,” he said again, delivering a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your center, bathing it in warmth. You arched into his touch—it was so welcome. 

“Wh…whaat…,” you began but found yourself unable to speak as he lapped at you. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, punctuating his sentence by nipping at your outer thigh. His teeth were much sharper than you expected. “Give yourself over to it.” 

He hooked his arms under your thighs and dragged your body to him, digging his claws into the soft flesh. 

“Yes,” you breathed, panting as he sucked and licked and kissed. 

His arms found purchase on the mattress and he crawled up your body, licking up your torso as he went. 

“Isn’t this worth it?” he asked, devilish grin consuming his face. 

You blinked, and both your wrists were above your head, held down by one of his massive hands. Feebly, you struggled against his hold, no match for his strength. 

“This is what you wanted, Angel,” he said, one long, pointed nail stroking softly down your cheek while his face hovered above yours. His breath smelled deathly sweet, as if you could get drunk on it. 

Bending down, he licked at your mouth. You chased the kiss but he kept his lips just out of reach. 

“Want to taste?” he asked. Whimpering, you nodded. 

He dipped his tongue out of his mouth, not close enough for you to reach with your lips, but just close enough you could run your own tongue over the tip of his. It was just as over-sweet as his breath. You strained against his hold pathetically in an attempt to deepen the touch, but he was too strong. 

“Now, now,” he taunted. “Don’t get greedy,” he said, grinding himself into you and you whimpered. “You have to earn it.” 

“Tell me,” you begged, trying in vain to lift your hips up into him and achieve some much-needed friction against your dripping core. 

“I need you on your knees.” 

Without warning, Noah was no longer on top of you, but standing in front. You were not in a bed, but in a dark, barren room. Instead of Noah holding your arms above your head, each wrist was shackled to chains that hung from the ceiling. You were naked, knelt before him.  

He wore all black, matching his eyes, nails, and horns, and he stood over you menacingly. 

“That’s right,” he said, voice having switched from soft to booming. “Bow before your god.” 

_________

You awoke with a start, bolting up in your bed. It took you a few blinks to recognize that you were indeed in your room, not…wherever that was. Your breaths came out in rapid succession, tears welling up. Frantically, you swiped at your eyes, wiping the cascading droplets away as you tried to steady your breathing. 

You hung your head, pressing it against your knees and swallowing thickly. 

It was just a dream. But an awful one that left you feeling even more fragile and tender than you’d been last night. 

A loud knock sounded at the door. Swiping at your forehead, you found a clamminess that hadn’t been there before. You wiped your hand over your sleep shorts, trying to get your bearings. 

The knock sounded again. “Hold on,” you called. You slid out of bed and into a pair of fuzzy slippers, checking the small makeup mirror on your desk and noting the red splotches at the end of your nose and around your eyes. You didn’t want to be observed in this state, but it was probably Ava at the door, and you could really use her warmth and kindness. 

You padded over to the door, opening it slowly to find not Ava, but a different set of bright eyes paired with a wide smile, which fell as soon as he looked at you.

“Nick? What are you doing here?” you asked, taken aback by his presence. 

“Wanted to check on you,” said Nick, eyes scanning over your face. “You okay? Can I come in?”  

You peered around the doorframe to see if he was alone and then moved aside, gesturing for him to enter. 

When he did, he took a moment to observe your dorm. 

“You don’t have a lot of decorations,” he stated, looking back and forth from Stevie’s side of the room to yours. Stevie’s was hung with loads of artwork from her friends, photos from home, small figurines and a collection of pretty rocks she’s collected while on hikes. 

Yours was bland. Bare. Not a single photo or piece of art. 

You used to have decorations—Bible verses in pretty fonts and photos of you with various family and members of the church. Friends from Christian school. But you’d taken them all down and stuffed them under your bed the previous night in a fit of rage. Looking at them felt like a painful reminder of the oppressive nature of your religion. 

Nick turned around to face you, raising his eyebrows when too much time had gone by without a response from you. 

“Yeah, I, uh,” you started, swallowing hard. “I guess I’m in the middle of redecorating.” You twisted the tie on your cotton shorts nervously. 

Nick’s eyes ran down and back up the length of you. “Nice shirt.” 

You looked down. He was referring to the racecar shirt. The same one Noah had teased you about. Thinking about him brought another wave of emotion up, though, so you shoved those feelings back down as quickly as they arrived. 

“Thanks,” you said, shifting your weight from foot to foot, before ultimately deciding that you were too tired to be anxious, so you went back to your bed and crawled on top. 

“You can sit,” you said, gesturing to the chair at your desk. He didn’t hesitate in pulling it up to face you and planting himself on it. 

“So,” he began, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “What’s up?” 

You looked around the room, feeling warm under his imploring stare. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” 

“You canceled community service,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, and though his voice was soft, it held a sternness that had you feeling on edge, as if in asking the question, he’d chucked a ball into your court and now waited to see what you’d do with it. 

“I did,” you volleyed back to him. Zero serving Zero. 

He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Why?” 

You shrugged. A non-answer. 

His tongue poked out between his lips and he tilted his head to look at you. You avoided his gaze, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms. As tense as the situation was, it offered a welcome distraction from your feelings. 

“You left after your solo. The program said you’d be singing in the choir, but I didn’t see you.” 

You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling your nostrils flare out upon the exhale. Noticing tightness in your jaw, you worked to relax the muscles. 

“Isaac and I had an…ethical disagreement,” you said. 

Growing bolder, Nick slipped his shoes off and kicked his feet up to rest on the edge of your bed, using the leverage to tilt himself back on two chair legs. 

Your eyes flicked down to his feet, wrinkling your nose at the sight of his stained socks and he wriggled his toes tauntingly. 

“Are you sure it’s not because someone didn’t show?” he asked, continuing to wriggle his toes. 

“Can you get your stinky feet off my bed?” you asked. It was a lie. You couldn’t smell his feet, you just didn’t want to answer the question. 

“Nope,” he said, emphasizing the last consonant with a pop . 

You leaned forward to push him off, but he was too quick, whipping his feet out of the way and slamming the chair back down on all fours with a loud giggle. You resumed your position against the wall and he did the same, crossing his heels as they rested on the edge of the mattress. 

Sighing, you allowed it. His taunting was doing a better job breaking you out of your sullen mood than you’d managed to do on your own. 

“It really was because of Isaac,” you said. “I didn’t like the charity he picked.” 

Nick nodded. “I was wondering about that. I didn’t donate anything, you’ll be glad to know.” 

The corner of your mouth curled up, despite yourself. “Good.” 

He looked at you more seriously. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. 

You curled your fingers around your comforter, tucking your lips in between your teeth while you waited for the right words to arrive. “I’m assuming you aren’t referring to the charity,” you said, feeling your mouth fall into something that resembled more of a pout. 

He nodded, waiting patiently for you to go on. 

You let your head fall back to thud against the wall. 

Nick was sweet. You hadn’t thought so at first, but after hearing how he had treated Ava, you realized he was a much kinder and more considerate guy than you’d initially judged him to be, and the fact that he came all the way over here on a Saturday morning just to check on you was definitely unexpected. 

When Isaac had done it after Halloween, you were certain it was to chastise you for your behavior. And sure, perhaps Isaac did care for you a little bit, but he was far more concerned with keeping you in line. 

Nick was here only to help, out of the kindness of his heart. You at least owed him a little bit of the truth. 

“He didn’t come,” you said, hoping that Nick could pick up on the disappointment in your tone so you wouldn’t have to tell him exactly how it made you feel. If you talked about it too much, you’d start crying again and that was the last thing you wanted. 

“I know,” he said softly. Soothingly. Sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” 

You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged them. “I had a feeling he wouldn’t. But for some reason, I held out hope.” 

Nick said nothing, giving you space to continue. 

“Did he say why?” you asked. 

He chewed on his lip, picking a piece of lint off the leg of his pants before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “He’s,” he began, sighing as he spoke, “going through something at the moment. It’s probably best for you to keep your distance.” 

Your throat tightened. You’d suspected as much, but hearing him confirm it felt like ripping off the scab of a wound. Fresh blood leaked out. 

Not wanting to cry, you scoffed instead. “Yeah, I know. That something was in the building last night and,” you paused as your voice threatened to wobble. “…had a lot to say about it to her friends,” you finished once you’d regained control. 

Nick’s eyes grew wide and he let his feet fall back to the floor with a loud thunk. “What do you mean?” If he could tell you were on the verge of tears, he didn’t acknowledge it. 

“Madison, or whatever her name was,” you said, feeling your eyes start to prickle. “She was in the girl’s bathroom last night talking with her friends. She said Noah reached out to her, and,” you sniffed, “had been hooking up with her a lot recently. So much that she,” you were cut off by your breath hitching. You swallowed thickly, feeling your eyes begin to water. “She was getting tired of him.” 

You buried your face in your palms, trying hard not to let the tears fall, but failed. 

“Shit,” you heard him say under his breath. He said nothing else, but you heard the scrape of the chair against your floor, and then felt the mattress beside you shift. 

“This okay?” he asked, throwing his arm around you and you nodded into your hands. He squeezed you into his chest and you melted into the touch. It wasn’t flirtatious or sexual in any capacity—just genuinely concerned and you desperately needed it. You needed someone to witness your pain and hold you while you felt it. 

“Noah’s not the best at handling his problems,” Nick said. His chest vibrated against your cheek as he spoke. He smelled musty, like stale smoke mixed with some sort of spice. Similar to Noah but the scent was definitely his own. It was earthier, like soil after a heavy rain. “I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire.” 

You said nothing, but continued to sniffle pathetically. You didn’t even want to know what problems Noah was supposedly dealing with, because you knew somehow you were one of them, and you didn’t want to feel like a problem. 

“I know telling you not to take it personally is kind of stupid, because how can you not?” he continued, “but seriously, it’s not personal.” 

He was right. How could you not? Noah had effectively lured you into a false sense of security, got you to compromise your morals, and then dipped. 

Well, that may not have exactly been the case. You hadn’t compromised your morals for him —if anything, you’d knowingly and gleefully entered into the encounter. Your views on sex had changed far before he’d placed that call. 

If anything, he’d just provided you an opportunity to explore yourself more–you just wish you would have been on the same page about what it meant. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you said morosely. You understood Noah not wanting to hook up with you anymore for whatever reason, but you wished it didn’t involve you not even talking. 

Especially after what had happened yesterday. Noah was the main person you talked to about your religious concerns. He got it. Understood where you were coming from and often knew exactly what to say to calm you down. 

You could really use that right now. 

“Come out with me tonight?” Nick offered after a few moments. 

You pulled away to look at him. He looked sincere. “What?”

“Come out with me,” he repeated. “There’s a party happening at Jolly’s. I think you could use a bit of fun.” 

You stared at him, confused. “Won’t Noah be there?” 

He shook his head. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t come.” 

You stayed silent for a few moments, deliberating. Nick was right, you definitely could use more fun in your life right about now, and a party did sound tempting. But your wounds were so fresh, and you hadn’t exactly enjoyed the last party you went to. 

“I don’t know…,” you said. 

“Come on,” he said, taking your hands in his and squeezing them. “I promise I’ll make it fun. It won’t be like last time. We aren’t playing a show tonight. It’s just a party.” 

You breathed deeply through your nose (which was difficult considering how much mucus had built up), taking in his pleading gaze. This man has indeed perfected his puppy-dog stare and you wondered just how many women he’d used it on. Should you allow yourself to be one of them? 

“I can tell you’re overthinking it.” 

You sighed and chuckled, caught red-handed. “Fine,” you said. Honestly, you could use the distraction and had nothing better to do. 

“Yeeee,” Nick softly boasted, pulling you into another hug and it was so endearing that his joy began to rub off on you. 

“Don’t leave me to go hook up with someone this time,” you said. “Even if it’s Ava.” 

“Promise,” he said, miming an X across his chest before crushing you back into him. “I won’t leave your side.” 

_________

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you asked, for probably the fifth time since you’d arrived at Ava’s dorm. 

“If you keep asking me that, I’m gonna start minding,” she said, tugging a brush through your hair. 

Shortly after Nick left, you checked your phone and noticed several missed calls from Ava, asking what had happened to you. Rather than explain it over the phone, you decided to make the short trek partway across campus to her dorm.

As soon as Ava took one look at you, she wrapped you up in her arms and held you while you sobbed yet again. Having experienced religious trauma firsthand, she’d had more than enough empathy for what you were going through. She sat and listened patiently while you went over everything that had happened, affirming your decision to leave the church behind. 

You were beyond grateful. It took a lot of courage for you to come to that decision. Knowing that your best friend not only supported you, but agreed that it was for the best was huge. 

You also told her about Nick coming over and inviting you to the party. Though Ava had assured you many times that she didn’t mind if you hung out with him, you couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if by sleeping with him, she’d staked a claim. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so cool with this,” you said. 

As soon as you told her he’d invited you to a party, she’d insisted on dressing you, spouting that this was the perfect time for a makeover since you were already going through a transformative time in your life. 

She paused brushing your hair, gathering the strands in her hands and laying them flat against your back. She stroked them softly. 

“I’ve been…thinking,” she began. 

“About?” you asked, glad to have the focus not on you and your problems. 

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she spoke again. “Finally losing my virginity was great, but it sort of opened up a lot of baggage for me to unpack. Specifically about my sexuality.” 

You nodded to show you were listening. 

“There’s this girl,” she continued, and you had a feeling you knew what she was about to discuss. 

Ava’s parents had always been strict with her—possibly even more strict than your parents had been. She hadn’t always gone to Christian school. Throughout elementary, she’d gone to a public school. Then in junior high, she’d developed a close friendship with a girl. 

You never heard the whole story, but her parents had learned something about the girl and flipped, pulling Ava out of her local high school and enrolling her in a Christian academy. You’d always assumed it was because her parents deemed this girl to be a bad influence on Ava, as they had mentioned before. In fact, the only reason the two of you had been so close was because her parents approved of you being the pastor’s daughter. 

But then when the two of you asked to room together in college, her parents staunchly opposed. They shelled out a ton of money for Ava to get a private dorm, stating that they didn’t want her to get distracted by roommates. 

You’d always wondered why they had such a problem with it. It wasn’t until now you’d started putting two-and-two together.

“Tell me about her,” you said, offering a warm smile. You locked eyes with Ava in the mirror as she resumed brushing your hair. 

“She’s in my Art History class. Her name’s Hera.” 

Ava lit up as she talked in a way you’d never seen her light up before. She told you how Hera’s background in activism through art, and how she’d initially approached Ava to study together, but they’d begun hanging out more. And how Ava isn’t exactly sure what Hera’s sexuality is, but she gets butterflies every time she smiles at her. How she’s trying to work up the courage to confess her feelings, but is absolutely terrified and will probably just take it slow, unless Hera says something first. 

She told you about how Hera asked her to hang out tonight at an underground screening of some cult indie flick you’d never heard of, and that’s why Ava can’t come to the party with you. 

All the while you sat and listened, heart growing warmer and softer for your best friend’s happiness. 

Ava’s had a difficult road to get to where she was. Much more difficult than yours. The church you grew up in was not affirming in any way. When you were a child and discussions of the queer community first entered the church, they were staunchly against every facet of it, calling it an “abomination” and stating that it “destroyed the sanctity of marriage”. 

When queer marriage became legal in your state, a bunch of the local churches protested outside the courthouse, yours included. Your parents didn’t let you go, because they wanted to shield you for as long as possible from the discussion. 

You’d always had a hard time swallowing the church’s stance though. It seemed to go against everything they’d taught you about Jesus and the love he had for his people. If God is Love, as he says he is, then how could love in any form be evil? You just didn’t understand. 

You learned not to bring it up with your father. It was a sore spot with him, as it was with the rest of the church elders, but you had no idea if that made you a bad Christian. 

That was the first time you ever remembered questioning the church’s stance on something. Since then, it had been a slow deconstruction. So slow you hadn’t even noticed it was happening until recently, when Noah came into your life and started tearing about the foundation of everything you believed. 

But you weren’t there to think about Noah. You were there to support your friend. Someone who has had to bravely stand in defiance of everything her family and her church has told her regarding who she is. You couldn’t even fathom how much courage that must have taken. 

“I really like her,” she said, and you could tell this was the most vulnerable admission Ava has ever made to you. 

“I’m so happy for you,” you said, biting back the tear that threatened to spill over. You’d been crying a lot the last two days. This time, however, it was a happy tear. “Thank you for confiding in me.” 

Ava inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. I’ve been wanting to tell you everything, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. And you’ve been going through a tough time so I didn’t want to pull focus away from that.” 

You shook your head, failing to keep your tears at bay. “Don’t apologize at all. You don’t owe that information to anyone, but I’m really glad you chose to give it to me.” 

Ava smiled, softening. “Well yeah,” she said. “You’re my best friend. Of course I’d tell you.” 

You wanted to get up and hug her. You wanted to tell her how proud you were of her and how brave you thought she was. You wanted to ask her a million questions about her experiences in the church and how she got to this place of self-acceptance, but you knew all the direct attention would make her uncomfortable. There would be lots of time for you to say all of those things. Right now, what was important was that she trusted you enough to tell you. 

In her eyes, you were a safe person for her to be herself around. 

For all the damage the church had done to you, that fact alone was enough to kick-start your healing.

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[hanasnx]

okay on a real note who to cast as nightwing tho?

i’m so fucking glad you asked. here are my fancasts

louis garrel:

i was trying to find an actor that fit dick’s ethnic background and i think louis did a good job but i can’t remember the specifics bcos i fancasted him so long ago. he fit the look i wanted which is the skin undertone shade, the black fluffy hair, the romantic eyes, and the pronounced nose. he can be very serious but he also looks very boyish when he smiles and jokes, which is another reason he fits dick grayson. the shadows on the bone structure is just superb for a batman-universe movie.

he would appear in a coming of age, 2000s nightwing movie about dick grayson breaking away from the robin mantle to set out on his own separate from bruce. it would span his mistakes and short comings as one half of a whole, and his journey to becoming blüdhaven’s sole protector. it would be more of an external experience for the viewer as the audience, watching from an outside perspective with the appropriate amount of nightwing’s private self reflection. but it would be paired with nightwing’s friends outwardly observing him, which helps him gain self awareness and adjust his protocols accordingly.

lorenzo zurzolo:

he has a “prettier” look and he’s italian, i believe. so he fits less than my first choice. however, i see the more serious sides of dick grayson in him. i see the romance and break-ups, the drama, and the dark side of gotham’s politics in this film about dick. this is a small project from a small company that lovingly tended to a specific strain of nightwing’s character that we don’t often see. we see him as a resolute pillar of purity and goodness, without compromise and with swiftness and strength. this would be nightwing later on in his years and a stand-alone art piece separate from the main storyline. lorenzo is very conventionally attractive which fits dick as a man who’s pretty enough to draw you in and keep you mesmerized.

i can see people criticizing him for being “too serious” and “nightwing is supposed to be fun” but this would be more of an introspective piece. this would be nightwing inwardly, and how he acts when he’s alone. rather than any performative sense of humor he puts on in other media. this would show the batman’s influence on him as a lean mean machine. also it’s a movie in a diff language in another country

loved this question anon! i’d like to thank @xstarkillerx for helping me develop this bcos i truthfully cannot remember who said what when we first hammered through my list of fancasts

[ananke-xiii]

Betrayal&Fidelity in Purgatory

I've never been fully convinced that Dean modified his memories because his grief was just too much to bear and I've always been quite let down by the idea that Cas felt like he had to do penance for his sins. It's all too lukewarm for me so I went looking for other interpretations and oh boy. So, here's what I've come up with.

Cas and Dean are in Purgatory because they killed Dick Roman together and they did so because Dean asked Cas to go with him cursed or not. And Dean asked Cas to because Cas didn't want to. And Cas didn't want to because he regained his memories back, realized what he had done during his Godstiel arc and declared himself unable, cursed and useless. However, thanks to Dean Winchester's great power of persuasion, he was convinced to join the fight against the Leviathans because he detected a note of forgiveness in Dean's voice.

S7 Dean's and Cas' relationship boils down to this: Cas has forgotten everything while Dean can't stop thinking about what happened (the trenchoat moved from car to car is a nice visual symbol for this). When Cas is found out to be alive Dean is very torn between relief and... resentment. He seems to be quite angry at Cas not because of what Cas had done but because Cas had forgotten about it and had later decided he wasn't gonna do anything to fix what he had broken. In other words, Cas was refusing to remember his betrayal, more specifically his betrayal against Dean. And Dean wants him to remember. Cas told him he was going to find a way to redeem himself and then he died. And then he came back. And he didn't remember a thing. And when he did he was in clear denial and was planning on doing absolutely nothing of import to redeem himself besides making sandwiches.

Has Cas really betrayed Dean in s6? Mmmmmh. I'm not so sure. Does Dean feel betrayed by Cas? Absolutely yes. Does Cas feel like he betrayed Dean? Well, at first no but Dean did his best to make him understand that he did and so he did understand it. And so betrayal it was.

Now, in S8 Purgatory and beyond roles get reversed. Cas and Dean take the meaning of Purgatory in a very different way.

Cas does what Dean wanted him to do: he remembers. In fact, he takes remembering to a whole new level and decides to keep carrying his sin by going solo in Purgatatory fighting the monsters he had inside. Literally. Nice symbolism. In other words, he does penance.

And what does Dean do? He forgets. He's so imbued with what he perceives as the "purity" of Purgatory (which is what "purgatory" means so we really can't blame him if he felt that) that he frees himself of whatever happened before he got there. Now he has one goal in mind: find the angel.

Dean eventually alters his own memories to remember it like he wanted to: he didn't leave Cas behind, he didn't fail him. Cas let go. And, in a way, he didn't erase anything because Cas did let go. Just not physically but emotionally and that's what Dean couldn't bear to remember.

Cas was, once again, unfaithful to him. What?! Yes.

See, a paradox of betrayal is... fidelity.

Betrayer and betrayed are in such a profound bond (eheh) that they need to keep the betrayal alive by constantly remembering it. They can't let go and if one of the two parties does they are committing infidelity.

Truth be told, Dean didn't give two shits about Cas doing penance for his sins against heaven and earth: he cared that he did penance for the crimes committed against him.

So Cas letting go meant that he broke their unconscious vow to be faithful to one another.

He broke the connection (with Dean).

A Cas without Dean is a Cas ready to be reaped by Heaven. And so Cas enters a new abusive cycle of remembering and forgetting, remembering and forgetting by Naomi's brain drilling. Until Dean makes him remember (just like Cas made him remember what happened in Purgatory) and Cas broke another connection (with Heaven) but he also realizes that he will never get free of his past if he stays with Dean. He must protect the tablet (himself) from Dean. And so Cas leaves, he lets go of Dean. Again.

Of course this is not the right path because ultimately Cas thinks he can atone for his sins by... dying. He can reach purification in death. Castiel is indeed the Sam Winchester of the angels.

Thing is that Dean is very, very mad at Cas (this is showed twice in S9 too and once in S10) but he wants Cas to stay without acknowledging (with himself first and with Cas second) why he can bear to have around the guy who broke his brother's brain and for whom he spent one year in Purgatory only to be rejected by said guy (spoiler alert: it's because of love. Dean needs to keep the betrayal experience alive otherwise he will have to face the hard truth: he's in love... with an angel).

On the other hand, Cas feels very ambivalent towards Dean and he wants to stay away from him but he won't acknowledge why he needs to do so (spoiler alert: it's also because of love. Cas needs to let the betrayal experience die otherwise he will have to face the hard truth: he hurt the person he loves. Cas' self-harm inflicting tendencies are at their best by the end of s10 when he declares his allegiance and love to Dean in the moment he very well knows he will never get reciprocation: it's his "safest" option).

To sum it up, the phantom of betrayal must always hang around between Dean and Cas so that the other side of it can be concealed: love. However, by virtue of betrayal's paradox, their insistence on refusing to address this ghost shows how faithful and unfaithful they are to one another, howcommitted they are, how they are almost... married.

More on Cas as the betrayer: the betrayer keeps his fidelity by admitting he has betrayed, by refusing to forget it. They have to do so otherwise the wider context of love is missed. If the betrayer fails to do so they keep wronging the other person and they keep cutting themselves off from self-forgiveness. And so Cas, by refusing to acknowledge his betrayal specifically towards Dean, keeps hurting him and keeps himself in a vicious cycle of self-harm.

This is why "The Trap" feels like it missed something to me: we the audience actually know why and how Dean operates, we know he has forgiven Cas inexplicably (to Dean) since s6. Dean telling Cas in Purgatory that he forgave him was something that... we had already seen.

I would have found it more interesting if Cas told Dean something there and no, it didn't have to be his happiest moment ever, it would have possibly been his worst (and it could have been a good thing: sometimes bad moments are actually good moments): he could have admitted to his infidelity in their perverted version of marriage where the Scariest Thing (betrayal) actually constituted the foundations of their binding contract. It could have been a stepping stone towards "Despair".

There is much more to say because I have only touched upon the "love side" of the betrayal/fidelity dynamics. The other is power and it's possibly an even more interesting angle.

[yaekiss]

꩜ Room Content: GN! Dom! Reader x Male! Sub! Sydney the Faithful, no gendered terms for reader, jerking Sydney off in a cinema, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This has been on my mind for so long, ugh the grip Sydney has on my mind is maddening. Might also do a corrupted Sydney version after this who knows teehee :3c

It was meant to be something relaxing. At least that's what Sydney had in mind when he agreed to a movie date with you at the cinema.

It's been a while since he's seen one so he thought that it'd be fun to watch one together. (He was even the one who suggested watching the newest romance movie after hearing about it from Robin.)

So how did it ever end up like this?

Maybe he should've paid more attention to Robin talking about the movie because when the beginning of a sex scene starts to play on the screen, he flushes instantly, hands shooting up and shielding his face to prevent him from seeing the lewdness on display.

His sudden actions catch your eye and you turn to take in the delicious view of your lover trying to tune out the raunchy moans from the actors, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed so cutely that you just want to eat him up ♡

Your hand finds its way over to the edge of his pants, pulling the band before letting it go, snapping against his skin. A squeak escapes him as his eyes fly open, surprised by your actions.

"W-what are you doing?" Sydney's voice is shaky, volume slightly above a whisper.

"I'm just helping distract you from the movie, angel. Now quieten down, you wouldn't want the people to realise, would you?"

Worried, he surveys the other cinemagoers around the both of you and breaths a sigh of relief when no one else heard the squeak he let out. Turning back to face you, he notices the hunger in your eyes and the blush on his cheeks deepen.

His hands are still held up in front of him so you take the opportunity to slip your fingers past his waistband, teasing at the rim of his boxers. The sensation of your fingers on the skin of his hips has him quivering but he makes no move to stop you from taking this even further. You press on, dipping into his boxers and when you come into contact with his already half-hard cock, he jolts in his seat, biting down on his lip to muffle any noises from him.

Leaning closer, you take his cock into your hand, gradually stroking him until he's hard and dripping. His self-restraint wavers when your nails glide across his slit, hips bucking up with a sharp gasp. Alarmed, his eyes dart around the surroundings, heart jackrabbiting in his chest at the prospect at getting caught. Working him up to his orgasm, he's squirming in his seat, moving one of his hands down to bite down on to stifle his moans as he loses himself in the pleasure you're showing him.

A harsh tug and a scratch along the underside of his dick is what tips him over the edge, he doubles over and his hands immediately shoot to grasp at your wrist so that he can rut into your hand as pure euphoria overtakes him. There's a wet patch growing on the fabric of his pants but he's too caught up in the bliss to notice.

After he rides out his high, he slumps back against the backrest, boneless and panting as he tries to process everything that just happened. Retracting your hand covered in his spend, you hold it before him, expectant. Hesitant, he slowly licks away his cum. He's slightly put off by the taste of his own cum at the start but determined, he carries on until your hand is completely cleaned. Giving your fingers one last suck, he pulls away, face still hot from arousal. As thanks, you grab his face and pull him in for a heated kiss that leaves him melting in his seat, his brain mushy. The only thing he can think of is you, you, you. + + Love

Well, he can't lie, he supposes the movie was relaxing in a way! - - Sydney's Purity

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[according2thelore]

i just want to say its insane that this is the best blog AND the best ao3 account. unfair. also i scrolled here forever and came across that art of priest sam and now i'm thinking about what if sam ran off to join the priesthood if he didn't get into stanford...... i don't even know if that's a thing in the 21st century but omg.... dean breaking into a church rectory to steal him back from god....... calling him father to be a dick but also bc...

HOLY SHIT????

um--thank you so much??? omg??? i'm crying?

the best is crazy, considering there are so many incredibly talented and hilarious bloggers that make up our community, and i'm so glad to be part of them! thank you!!!!!! i'm so honoured you like our blog and my fanfic!!! that means the world!!!!! <3 charlotte also says thank you sm!

and yes! priest!sam makes me bark like a fucking dog bc it makes sense! sam, at college, tormented by visions and unsure why walking past the stanford memorial church in the middle of the quad makes his feet burn.

whenever he blesses himself with holy water, it leaves faint red marks on his forehead for the rest of the day that he covers with his bangs. salt really seasons his food, and he can immediately tell if someone put it on his meal.

and he loves jess--he does, so much it hurts--but he can't live like this, not anymore. he applies to seminary school (you have to be at least twenty-five (or twenty-four if you get it waived) to become a priest but let's ignore that for now!) and only gets in because his local priest advocates for him to the diocese. for some reason, his application keeps getting lost, no matter how many times he turns it in. it just vanishes.

he doesn't know that what's inside of him is evil, yet, but he remembers looking at dean sometimes and having to look away because dean seemed bright, physically bright, and it hurt his eyes. he thought it was misplaced lust, that burning in his skin, but remembers that painting of galahad, of glorious light and purpose and purity and knows that he wants that.

he feels it, when he undergoes orders, the burning in his blood, his weak knees as he kneels on marble, like he's going to be sick, and he's overjoyed, because that must mean that he's being cleansed of every unholy thought, every unholy cell in his body. the holy oil they smear on his hands moves on its own into circles on his palms, quarter-sized dots that sizzle.

sam tucks his fingers into his palms and pretends that he can't see the similar wounds on the crucifix, the stigmata that are a garish red on christ turning into silver scars on sam's hands, scars that ache or burn when he cleans the holy vessels or touches the sacrament.

he gets assigned to the smallest church in the diocese. he's happy enough, and finds peace in the quiet, in connecting with the people in the parish and the spartan way of life--no distractions, no decorations, just a purpose, a holy purpose. he gets restless sometimes, the lack of mental stimulation driving him crazy, so he prays to god to remove this weakness in him. he prays to god when he sweeps the floor and when he organizes the soup kitchen donations and when he brushes his teeth.

he's closing up one night when he sees a man in one of the pews in the darkened sanctuary. he approaches slowly, and asks softly, 'can i help you?'

and the man doesn't turn around, when he says, 'i had a brother, once.' and sam fucking freezes in his steps because he dreams about this voice sometimes, dreams of this man's hands on him and knows that his job isn't done yet, know that he's not cleansed of all the rot inside of himself, because this man remains.

and dean's smile is liquid and oily when he turns around, and says, 'but now our family's got two fathers.'

and sam's lost, the second he looks into dean's eyes, the exact shade forgotten until this moment, and sam's feet ache in his shoes like they always do on church grounds--on hallowed ground--, and dean fucking glows, and sam can see the shadows he casts, and sam's eyes burn.

one of them is holy, one of them is approved by god.

and it's never been sam. it never will be.

god doesn't want him.

but dean does. dean always does.

goddamn this ran away with me. do i need to write a priest!sam fic?? much to think about. thank you for this lovely ask anon!!!! and thank you again for your kind words!!!!!! <3

happy wincest wednesday!

-lizzy

[sunlightandsuffering]

Sacrilege has got a chokehold on me so I don’t think I’m ever going to shut up about it I’m sorry Lys 😭😭😭😭😭Days before Eremika’s wedding Mikasa’s mother has the talk with her in her room «  honey there are things you’re gonna have to do with Eren , you’re going to give him the greatest gift you have , your purity. It’s something only a husband can take » not knowing Eren is hiding in her closet wheezing because they were fucking in her room 10 minutes prior

BRO IM CACKLING!! Treadmill gym Drabble 🥰🤗😂

Eren likes his future mother in law in an abstract sort of way.

After all she raised the little lunatic that he’s proposed to, and as such he has to like her. Even if she did inflict a mild amount of religious trauma on his bride, it’s not entirely her fault he blames the church for that part.

It’s not unwarranted for people to want to believe in a higher power, it brings them comfort and as such he understands, he can’t be too upset with her.

But sitting, locked inside Mikasa’s tiny bedroom closet he cannot help but curse the woman.

He can see through the small crack in the doors that she’s sat Mikasa down on her very pink, very unicorn themed bedspread that he knows from personal experience is not comfortable in the slightest.

Mikasa had turned as pink as the covers the first time he’d seen it and told him quite vehemently that she had never been allowed to change it and under absolutely no circumstances was he allowed to make fun of her for it.

Of course he’d made fun of her and she’d attempted to suffocate him with said bed covers.

But back to the current predicament, he can hear clear as day the words that leave her mother’s mouth and Eren dreads every second of the coming conversation.

“Mikasa, darling I think it’s time for us to discuss what will be expected of you.”

“What do you mean mom, what’s expected of me?”

Mikasa plays dumb and Eren isn’t entirely sure if that’s a mistake or not, especially not with his cum dripping down her thighs and her hair looking like a fucking bird’s nest because when her dear mother had interrupted them, she’d been blowing him and rather expertly at that.

Her lips are still swollen and his dick still throbs at the thought, because he’d been so fucking close.

“Well darling what a woman is expected to do when she marries, what Eren will expect of you,” she pauses a moment, lHe’ll expect your purity, your virginity and I’m here to explain how it’ll go darling I don’t want any surprises for you.”

“Mom,” Mikasa gasps, “you don’t need to- I took sex Ed I know,” Mikasa waves her hands awkwardly and her mom purses her lips.

“But that doesn’t really prepare you dear, you don’t know about the minutia of it, and darling I’m worried, Eren is a rather large boy, I’d be worried about the erm… size of him, I want you to know to use lubricant and —“

“MOM!” Mikasa yelps and Eren chokes from the closet, trying his best to cover a wheeze at the turn the conversation has taken.

“Mikasa! I just want you to be prepared darling it’s not about anything else I just—“

He can see Mikasa attempting to shove her mom right out the door, “Mom I don’t need this I can figure out how to have sex just fine thanks!”

“Mikasa it’s just because I care about you!”

The door is slammed shut and Eren winces as Mikasa opens the closet, staring at him, beet red.

He allows his legs to spill out of the cramped space, sighing as he’s allowed to actually breathe. It’s silent for a moment as they both stare at each other and finally Eren shrugs, “Wanna finish me off?”

Mikasa stares back, aghast, “You’re insane.”

“Is that a no then?”

[ghoultrifle]

Trifle, i saw your ask to moony and now...i am requesting your pissboy hc's for the ghouls and ghoulettes! If you want to share them with us, that is :)

wooh boy anon i hope you knew what you were getting yourself into when you asked this, of course i want to spread the pissboys agenda!! a lot of piss below the cut (obviously)

Cirrus: Loves watching her partners squirm and writhe around as they beg for permission to go. Sometimes she'll be kind and let them, other times she sits back and watches as they piss themselves. Can also be found pissing on other ghouls.

Dewdrop: He's into the humiliation of it all. Doesn't really enjoy piss as a substance but nothing gets him going like being shamed for pissing himself. Has cum far too many times after being used as a urinal by Rain. Especially enjoys Cirrus pressing on his bladder and cooing at him when he doubles over and leaks just a tiny bit. Prefers to be humiliated but has a soft spot for putting Mountain in Scenarios because the big guy gets so embarrassed and so horny about it, how could he not? (inspired by my own ask to @high-imperatrix here, #piss pals 4ever)

Sunny: Full. Bladder. Fucking. She doesn't care who, preferably both of them. Trying not to let on to the other that they're about to burst (and bust hehe) while the pace is relentless. Each thrust feeling like it might be the last before she loses control.

Swiss: Likes the humiliation aspect but also just the feeling of pissing himself. Doesn't even really need a partner, will just go out for a walk around the grounds and start wetting himself mid-stride. Films himself every time as well, sends it to whichever unsuspecting (but consenting) ghoul he thinks will enjoy it most. Gets hard when a sibling notices and cocks an eyebrow at him, maybe goes to a quite corner near a tree and tugs himself off until he cums on his already wet jeans. (disclaimer: this is all fantasy, please do not rope in unsuspecting members of the public into your sexual play)

Cumulus: Hates humiliation but loves being a good girl for Cirrus or Mountain as they let go, perched between their legs. Loves being marked by her lovers as they drench her in their piss, watching the relief contort on their faces as they become more turned on by the second. They always fuck nasty afterwards.

Aurora: Biggest piss switch you've ever seen. Even in the same scene she will go from wetting herself at the mercy of her partner to pushing them onto the bed and fucking them with a full bladder until they leak. Her favourite is to get Ifrit all hydrated and then get him worked up, start squirming on his lap until he confesses he really has to go, and of course she doesn't let up, that would be too nice.

Mountain: Definitely a watersports kinda guy. Isn't really into wetting, all seems a bit too fabricated for him, he likes to be at one with nature, as Satan intended. Only exception to this rule is when Dew makes him wet himself, he would truly do anything for that ghoul. Also a switch so enjoys scenes with Aurora out in the woods. They bring lots of water and spend hours out there, pissing then fucking then pissing some more.

Aether: Loves piss as long as he doesn't have to touch it. For that reason he loves tying Rain up, partially suspended from the ceiling and watching him try to no avail to free himself from the rope before giving up and flooding his pants. During these scenes Aether can be found in the corner, dick in hand as he stokes himself to completion, timing it with when Rain loses control (hijacking @herbal-quintessence's addition to this post, thank you my piss pal <3)

Phantom: The ultimate piss boy <33 will do anything and everything and will get off on it every time. If there was a rice purity test of piss his score would be 0. If you can think it, he's both done it and had it done to him. Things he's done include: being pissed on, desperation, wetting himself, drinking piss, public play, diapers, being pissed in, the list goes on. Truly my Go To for piss scenarios, he's just so versatile!