#the stature of Christ

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time He Sabotaged My Date”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: yandere(ish)!Sukuna, fluff but he’s kinda very toxic, stalking, fem implied reader (wearing a dress and heels), brief mention of a bomb (there aren’t any bombs present), narration is from Sukuna’s POV

Word Count: 1.78k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Whoever decided this dingy shithole is a decent place to take you on a date should be fucking shot.

Maybe it was wrong of Sukuna to eavesdrop on your private conversation this morning, but in his defense you were talking on the phone loud as hell in the middle of the living room. Should’ve been quieter when you were telling your friend about the date you had planned for tonight.

And maybe it’s weird that Sukuna secretly followed you here to keep an eye on you, but it’s not like he has nefarious intentions. He’s heard of this place and one, it’s fucking gross, and two, it’s got one hell of a reputation to say the least. Definitely the kind of place for someone to get murdered, he’s just watching out for your safety!

Oh christs sake, who is he fooling? No, he followed you here because he’ll be damned if you get a boyfriend.

He feels like a creep, sitting at the bar behind your table in a black hoodie and an old baseball cap, eyes fixed on the back of your head. The guy sitting across from you is so bland, yet for some reason you’re still giggling and twirling your hair around your finger as if you don’t know that you can do so much better.

There was no need for you to doll yourself up for this fuckin’ loser; you’ve got on a pretty red dress and stiletto heels, probably anticipating him to take you somewhere nice, decent, at least. But he brought you to some run down shithole restaurant that hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s and is definitely bearing several health code violations. It’s honestly embarrassing, Sukuna would take you somewhere so much nicer than this, he knows what you deserve.

He’s been sitting at the bar sipping on his drink for the last half hour, watching the way you prop your elbow onto the table, cross your legs in your seat, tap your heel against the leg of your chair, listening to you laugh and chat about your job. Meanwhile, mister nobody in front of you is chewing with his mouth open like some kind of ape, not realizing how much of a privilege he has by being able to treat you to dinner. Un-fucking-believable.

Finally the moment he’s been waiting for happens. Bland And Boring stands up from his seat and leaves you at the table to go use the restroom, so now it’s time for Sukuna to get this fool away from you. His eyes follow the man as he walks past the bar, not even trying to be discreet. He gives Sukuna a quick glance and nods his head politely, making his way towards the bathrooms near the front of the restaurant.

There’s no time to waste.

Sukuna stands from his seat at the bar, trailing behind your date and following him into the bathroom. As the door clicks shut behind him he realizes that it’s just the two of them. Perfect, no interruptions.

He walks up behind the man, watching him through the large mirror above the sinks. Now that he’s up close he can really see how pathetic this guy is, nervously looking up towards Sukuna as he absolutely towers above him, his stature menacing and the look in his eyes bordering on deadly.

“D-do you need some-”

“You should leave.” Your date jumps at the sound of Sukuna’s voice; dark, deep, and serious.

“Um… why?” His eyes flicker around the room, definitely praying to whatever god he believes in to come save him.

Sukuna is surprised he isn’t immediately obeying. Has he grown soft? Surely not, this guy just needs a little extra push.

So Sukuna says the first thing that comes into mind.

“I have a bomb.”

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but god damn does it do the trick. The guy looks like he’s about to fucking piss himself, eyes widening in terror as he quickly nods his head and runs out of the restaurant.

Sukuna keeps a keen eye on him through the windows, watching him nearly leap into his car and hearing the tires screech as he speeds out of the parking lot. It seems you also had an eye on your date, your jaw nearly dropping to the floor as you assumed that he just ditched you with the bill.

Now’s his time to shine.

He stuffs his hat into the front pocket of his hoodie and strides up behind you to your table, bending down to be eye level with you in the booth and putting on his best mildly surprised and kind of amused expression, “Well look at that.”

“Ugh, god.” You bury your face into your hands, “And here I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”

He can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. It is his fault you’re in this situation, but I mean come on, that guy was no good for you anyway. “You sample the whole fuckin’ menu or something?”

You groan and roll your eyes, perfect, you took the bait, “I just got dine and dashed, asshole.”

Sukuna lets out a laugh as he flops down into the seat across from you, god if only you knew. A man would have to be a real idiot to stand you up, but he has to try and keep his act together, “Yeah? Guys are fuckin’ assholes, surprise.”

The pout on your face is too sweet, makes it hard for him to really feel bad, “I was really liking him too.”

Oh, he definitely doesn’t feel bad now. He pulls his card out of his wallet as the waitress approaches the table, handing it off to her nonchalantly as he continues the conversation, “Don’t know why you bother going on dates with these guys.”

You try to interject the waitress but she walks away before you can stop her, a defeated frown pulling down your lips, “What are you doing here anyway?”

He plops his elbow onto the table, shrugging his shoulders casually, “What? Am I not allowed to go to my favorite shitty restaurant?”

You perk up slightly, “Right? I saw a roach on the way in, I can’t believe he recommended this place.”

The waitress comes back and hands Sukuna his card, he quickly scribbles his signature on the receipt and stands from his seat at the booth, “Let’s get you out of here before you get ringworm or some shit, nasty fuckin’ place.”

Finally a smile creeps onto your face, lighting up the dreary atmosphere. You adjust your dress as you stand up and he can’t help but smirk at how good you look all dolled up, dark red dress hugging your figure as if you wore it for him. He leads you out of the restaurant, making sure to hold the door open for you since he noticed that your loser date let it slam in your face on your way in.

Droplets of rain were starting to sprinkle down, which is pretty unlucky considering it’s a ten minute walk back to the apartment. But that’s not a problem for Sukuna, if anything it’s a perfect opportunity. He catches the frown curling down your pouty lips as you fix your fingers through your nicely styled hair, probably trying to keep it from getting messed up, and without missing a beat he pulls his hoodie off, sliding it over your head and down your arms.

“I’m sure you spent hours dolling yourself up, would hate to ruin it.” His voice is smooth as butter, leaning down to eye level with you as he adjusts the hood to make sure your hair is covered.

A blush creeps onto your face, mumbling a quiet “Thank you” as you pull your arms through the sleeves. It honestly looks like you’re drowning in his massive hoodie, the sleeves too long for your arms that your fingers can’t even peek out and the hem at the bottom falling at your upper thighs.

Sukuna thought you looked good in that red dress, but god damn you look heavenly wearing his clothes. Why didn’t he do this sooner?

You both start to walk down the sidewalk to the apartment, the evening is quiet save for the muffled sounds of music and chatter coming from the bars and restaurants that you pass by. You’re walking right up against his side, your arm occasionally brushing against his and he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting closer on purpose.

Sukuna breaks the peaceful silence, “So was the food good at least?”

You look up towards him quizzically, squinting your eyes in a way that’s too fucking cute for him to handle, “Shouldn’t you be the expert?”

“Why t’fuck would I know? Never been there.”

“I thought that was your favorite shitty restaurant?”

Oops.

He got way too distracted looking into your pretty eyes. Lucky for him, he didn’t need to come up with an excuse to cover him because a loud snap rings through the air as you stumble forward. His arm quickly wraps around your waist to steady you before you can fall, holding you flush against him.

You look down at your feet and let out a loud groan of frustration, “Fucks sake, really?” You lift your foot up to inspect your shoe, your stiletto heel barely dangling by a thread as it snapped off from the sole.

Sukuna didn’t mean to laugh, but there was no containing it. You look up at him with an adorable angry face, cheeks burning red as you curse him out and it only makes him smile more. You’re just too damn cute when you’re pissed off.

“It’s not funny! These were expensive!”

“Yeah yeah, c’mere.” His arm stays wrapped around your waist as he leans down and hooks his other arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease as you squeal in surprise and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

Now he could bet that other guy wouldn’t do this for you, not just was he scrawny as all hell but he wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gentleman. Your arms tighten around the back of Sukuna’s neck as he starts walking to the apartment again, your cheek nuzzled against his shoulder as you slowly relax into his hold. He’s actually liking this a lot, silently considering purposely taking a wrong turn on the way home so he can hold you longer.

Hopefully after this you’ll stop going on stupid dates with worthless men, you’ve already got everything you could ever want right at home after all. Soon enough you’ll realize that you don’t need anyone but him.

A/N: This was SO FUN to write!! I love him he’s such an asshole askakksksk, I rlly liked the idea of doing a light hearted yandere part (even tho NOBODY asked for this skaksksk) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[flowerandblood]

Paradise Fruit (1)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: watching each other masturbate, soft, poetic smut, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After being treated by King Saladin's physicians, King Baldwin begins to leave his chambers. The people of the court whisper around her that the young ruler will not even live to be thirty years old. As a lady of waiting of his sister, she attracts his attention. ]

Author's Note: I said it and I did it: I know this isn't your typical Ewan Mitchell character, but I couldn't resist. I'm glad I wrote this because I had too many thoughts after watching this movie and now my soul is at peace! For those who haven't seen Kingdom of Heaven, I highly recommend it, it's an amazing production.

Word count: 3.900

Part 2 – White Marriage

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Jerusalem seemed to her at once a paradise and a hell on earth, both beautiful, sublimely sacred, as much as broken, dirty and cruel. The reign of King Baldwin IV was a reign of restraint and peace, the greatest evidence of which was his rich diplomatic correspondence with King Saladin himself.

Baldwin gave permission for the Muslim part of Jerusalem to hold prayers as it wished, on payment of appropriate taxes – a huge step towards reconciling the city's disparate population and a cause of contention among the Christian knights.

As lady of the court, she accompanied the royal sister, Sibylla, like her shadow, serving her with conversation, reading books in her company, being the equivalent of her friend and confidante, watching over her welfare.

She was the third daughter, and was therefore a burden to her lord father, who sent her to Jerusalem to the royal court when she was thirteen. Her father hoped that Sibylla herself would find her a suitable husband and put up the coins for her dowry, allowing her family to glory on the Old Continent in the fact that her chosen one was favoured by the God in the Holy Land.

Looking at Princess Sibylla's marriage, she prayed that she would never meet her fate, preferring to eventually fade into old age in a monastery.

Her Lady abhorred her husband: not in a physical context, for he was not unlike other great knights in stature or appearance, but in his heart, which was filled with the lust for power.

Although he believed that he was acting in the name of Christ on the Earth, he represented neither his mercy nor his prudence, being a simply unkind and spiteful man.

Sibylla was given in marriage to him at the age of 15, and she watched her sufferings and humiliations in silence, only being able to allow herself occasionally to close her hand on hers, giving her encouragement.

It was known that her husband's dream was the death of the King, for it would then be his wife who would become heir to the throne. Someone might laugh at this wish, knowing that King Baldwin was only 16 years old when she arrived at court.

However, despite such a young age, it was known that the King would probably not live to see his thirtieth year.

The cruel disease that had descended upon his body when he was still a young child, leprosy, was the reason why his whole body was covered, and his face was adorned with a beautiful silver mask – the only thing visible through it were his eyes, bright and wise, the skin around his eyelids all red.

His sister despaired at his undeserved suffering, at the thought that his body was falling apart, his skin peeling and pulling away from his muscles, causing him excruciating pain. He could not touch anyone or be touched directly because his disease was contagious.

Thus, one of the greatest rulers of Jerusalem, a man who had accomplished the impossible and ushered, at least for a while, the Kingdom of Heaven into this forbidden holy land, suffered daily torment.

As she prayed for the health of her family and his sister, she also prayed for him – since Christ was able to miraculously cure lepers, as the Bible itself said, perhaps there was hope for him too.

As a sign of respect and friendship, the Muslim King Saladin sent a retinue of his best physicians to relieve the King of his pain, which must have helped at least to some extent, for although she had previously only seen him in audience standing by his sister's side, now the King began to walk through the palace gardens on his own.

One day, when Sibylla noticed him standing next to one of the monks, she approached him immediately, praising his name, and she moved humbly to follow her, feeling grateful at the thought that the King was indeed feeling better.

That perhaps her prayers had been answered.

"Brother. It rejoices me to see you in the fresh air, away from the suffocating comfort of your chambers full of books and parchments." Sibylla said, pulling her shawl from her mouth, revealing her face to her brother.

As a married woman, she covered her face out of sheer decency, as her husband was a jealous man, but she, as a maiden, in addition almost always being in the presence of her Lady, did not have to do so.

"Your judgement is too harsh, dear sister. Books and parchments are my solace in the hardest of times." He said calmly and lazily, effortlessly – it was the first time she had heard his voice this close and she thought the words coming out of his mouth were like humming.

He had a white linen cloth draped over his head that reminded her of the headgear of the pharaohs, a richly embroidered white robe and gloves on his body, a silver mask portraying the features of a handsome, masculine man on his face.

She swallowed hard as his gaze shifted to her, catching her looking shamelessly at her ruler's face, causing her to lower her head immediately.

"Let's take a walk. We should take advantage of the beautiful weather." Said his sister, wanting to take his arm, he however moved away immediately and shook his head.

Pain and sadness crossed Sibylla's face, but after a moment she only nodded and forced herself to smile, walking ahead with him, letting her and the King's servant walk a few steps behind them.

That evening, for the first time, the King summoned her.

"Do not fret." Sibylla said. "My brother is a man of decency and sensitivity. Rest assured, he will not set upon your virtue or force you to do things unworthy of a lady. He confessed to me that he would like to look at your face for at least a moment longer and asked me to convey his wish to you, indicating that you may refuse."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling the blush of embarrassment appear on her cheeks at her words, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad.

"If it is the will of our beloved King, I will do so." She said, and Sibylla nodded, giving her one satisfied smile.

She wore her most beautiful robe and hair adornments as if she were about to attend a nuptials – the material cast over her body was blue, fastened at the shoulders and waist with golden buckles, in her hair at the sides jewellery resembling a wreath of laurel leaves.

As she entered his chamber, candles burned all around, she was also struck by the intense scent of lavender – she noticed immediately his white, seated figure bent over thick tomes. His head turned towards her, in his mask she was able to see the reflection of everything around him.

"Do not be afraid. Come closer." He said softly and she nodded, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like a bird.

Her footsteps on the stone floor echoed through his chamber, the rustling of her robe as she sat down opposite him made her sound similar to the rustling of leaves.

She swallowed hard as she watched him sigh and spread out comfortably in his chair, looking her straight in the eye – she immediately looked away, unaccustomed to such confidentiality with anyone.

"No." He said. "Don't deny me this pleasure."

She tightened her fingers on the material of her garment, lifting her gaze to him again, feeling herself involuntarily begin to breathe through her mouth.

She could see the calm and curiosity in his eyes – his head was tilted slightly to one side, as if he was thinking about something, silence all around him.

"I'm making you uncomfortable." He concluded.

She shook her head quickly, horrified, thinking that something in her posture or gaze had discouraged him.

"No, Your Grace. I just don't know how to behave. What is appropriate for me to do or say in your presence. Silence is safe." She confessed in shame, lowering her eyes to her fingers again, reminding herself after a moment that she should not do so.

The King hummed at her words.

"Do not take my words as my attempt to mock you, however, knowing how little time I have left in this wretched world has made me tread lightly in courtly etiquette." He said with amusement, not taking his eyes off her, something flashed in his gaze as if someone had lit a candle inside them.

"We waste time feigning care and respect, hiding what is true, arising from the depths of our hearts, because that is what etiquette demands of us. When we stand before God, will we say to him: I have never really loved or sympathised, but my lips have left many beautiful, great words?" He asked, and she looked at him in disbelief, completely surprised by his approach and what she had heard.

Some part of her knew he was right.

"In this world, only the King can afford to lack beautiful words." She muttered, hearing after a moment that something akin to a chuckle had left his lips.

"You are mistaken. One word from the King can either create or destroy."

She lowered her head, wondering if he had just rebuked her, he, however, seemed satisfied.

"My reign will end with my death, which will be in a few years at the latest. I will not beget an heir to whom I can pass on my philosophy of ruling, the values that are essential. My sister's husband and his greed will sit on the throne, and Jerusalem will fall." He said calmly, as if he were telling her about the weather, his fingers clad in a white silk glove tapping rhythmically against the table top.

She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her heart, wondering if perhaps the reason he had summoned her was quite different from what she had suspected.

"What shall I do, my King?" She asked, and he laughed again, louder this time, looking at her as if something in her question gave him pleasure.

"Your devotion rejoices my heart. Do not think, however, that you will hear from me an order that would condemn you to eternal damnation. I could not then leave this world in peace. No. I wish that when I disappear, someone will watch over my sister. To help her escape when all is lost here, no matter what her husband will desire. Do you understand what I have in mind?" He asked softly, and she nodded, thinking she felt more respect towards him than ever.

"Yes, my King." She replied.

He smiled at her words, she saw it in his gaze. She lifted her gaze higher, towards the windows by which the shoots of dried lavender hung, surrounding them with a pleasant, refreshing scent.

"I had these beautiful flowers brought in from far away. They mask well the unpleasant ailments of my illness on hot days. The smell of rotting flesh is one of the most disgusting to man, for nature equates it with spoiled food from which he can die." He explained, and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling hot shame ripple through her body at his words.

His suffering must have been unimaginable.

"Knights praise their own greatness and bravery during battles wishing for songs to be sung about them. I, for one, hope to hear songs about Baldwin IV, a wise and prudent King, a merciful Monarch who fought each day with his own suffering and triumphed. I do not know the words that can convey my admiration for your person." She mouthed in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands lying on her thighs were quivering all over with emotion, burning tears for some reason squeezed under her eyelids.

The King looked at her for a long moment in silence, something in his gaze that made her feel a pleasant tingling in her fingertips.

"Your soul is as beautiful as your body. You are like a breath of cool wind on a hot day. I am grateful to you for allowing me to experience this joy."

As she left his chamber, for some reason she burst out crying.

She could not understand why: it seemed to her that her heart squeezed all over in pain, not only out of compassion, but also out of a sense of injustice that a man so great and enlightened was experiencing undeserved torment every day.

Or was it through his ordeal that he became such a man, such a King?

If the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven were to open before anyone in the second life, it was before him, she thought.

That night she could not sleep: she was ashamed of herself for thinking about him. She tried not to pay attention to men, knowing their nature, knowing that they might consider it an invitation on her part to sin.

However, the time she spent with him, although she might perceive his words as ambiguous, seemed to her something almost spiritual, a moment of awakening, as if she had been in a half-sleep until the moment she looked into his eyes.

His gaze would find her in the audience among the other servants and ladies of the court. She knew this because his eyes stopped on her face, and although he listened intently to what his subjects were saying to him, she knew that for that one moment he was focused only on her.

The flutter of her heart shamed her, allowing her to realise that, like a flower, a warm and pleasant feeling was blossoming within her, coming from God.

"You occupy my brother's thoughts. He follows you with his eyes." Said Sibylla as they walked together through the corridors of the great, cold stone fortress.

"It was not my desire to distract him from the affairs of the Kingdom." She confessed with shame, entwining her fingers on her womb, looking sadly at her fingers. His sister snorted at her words.

"Jerusalem is destroying him. It is the Kingdom that is his disease. He has taken upon himself all its sins, purified it. He gave it years of peace and dignity." She said with a pain from which she felt a sting in her heart.

Why was it that whenever she thought of him she wanted to cry?

"I want to relieve him." She said finally, looking at her uncertainly, afraid of how the words sounded when they left her mouth. Sibylla stopped, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Don't be a fool. My brother will not condemn you to a fate similar to his own."

"There are many ways to experience relief. You said so yourself, Princess."

Sibylla looked at her thoughtfully and after a moment nodded, giving her wordless consent to whatever she wished to do.

The trust she had in her intimidated her.

As the siblings' chambers were next to each other, walking along the corridor from one quarters to the other was not a problem for her – Sibylla dismissed her guards so that no one could see in what negligee she went to the king's chamber.

Her long hair was loose, her body covered only by a thin nightgown, rubbed with fragrant oils, on her shoulders a cashmere shawl with which she covered herself to protect herself from the cold.

When she closed the door behind her and turned to face him, his eyes were wide in shock. He was silent for a moment, clearly not knowing what to say.

"No." He said finally. "Go back to your chamber."

"I have not come to you to sin. Does the sight of me disgust you, my King?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that she was breathing heavily through her mouth, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

She saw something in his gaze that looked like he felt pain, his figure creased slightly, as if he had run out of strength.

"God created you to subject me to the ultimate trial. He is torturing me like Job."

She felt a single, warm, heavy tear run down her cheek at his words, her body trembling all over, hot and cold at the same time with desire, though she did not know what kind or what was causing it.

"God sent me to soothe your suffering." She whispered.

They looked at each other like that for a long moment that lasted an eternity, and only after a while did she realise that his silence was due to the fact that he wanted whatever she was going to do to be due to her free will. Therefore, she moved tentatively towards his bed, on which she saw a clean, snow-white sheets, and lay down on her back, putting her shawl aside.

She looked up at him – his gaze was fixed on her, his silhouette sitting in a chair by the window frozen in stillness, the whiteness of his attire seeming to her to shine amidst the candles and the surrounding darkness of the night.

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat as her fingers lifted to the ties of her nightgown – she untied the knot, a pleasant squeeze spreading between her thighs, something sticky beginning to leak from it onto the sheet beneath her buttocks.

"– does what I am doing disgust you, my King? – is it a sin? –" She asked, sliding the thin material off her shoulders in a gentle, soft motion, unashamedly revealing her plump, sweet breasts. His gaze fled to them, as if what he had just seen simultaneously terrified and excited him.

"– looking at you, all I feel is desire – it's me sinning in my mind, not you –" He whispered so that she barely heard him, his hand sliding from the table top to his thigh.

Though she knew it was wrong, her whole body screamed, wanting him to touch her, to check for himself how soft and warm her flesh was, her moist, swollen womanhood, pulsing around nothing in desire.

"– not just you, Your Grace –" She muttered in a trembling voice, shamefully mimicking his movements, her long, small fingers sliding down her belly between her thighs, sinking into her warm folds like the moist flesh of an exotic fruit.

His head bowed as they both made a strange, unnatural sound full of surprise at the same moment, a moan as if they had caused each other pain, but yet all she could feel was a wonderful, hot tingling in her quivering womanhood, in her lips, in her nipples, in the tips of her fingertips.

He did not allow her to look at what he was touching under the material of his robe, she could however see the shape of that part of his body outlined on the material – his manhood was long and fat like a piece of stick, growing larger and larger with each squeeze of his hand.

She threw her head back, imagining feeling something that big inside her, in an involuntary reflex finding with her fingertips her puffy slit, slick and tight, resisting her as she tried to slide it inside her.

"– let me see –" He whispered, as if asking for something dirty, disgusting, repulsive.

She, however, felt only the heat of pleasure at his words shake her body – her thighs involuntarily parted, her legs bent at the knees allowing her nightgown to shamelessly reveal all that only her husband should be able to look at.

She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of wanting to be his wife.

"– you have my love, my King – you have my heart –" She breathed out, digging her fingers deeper into the delicate structure of her folds, teasing again and again the small bud from which her body went through shivers of wonderful, familiar pleasure.

His eyes were fixed on what was between her thighs, his gaze hazy and hot, his breath heavy, the sound of his hand smacking against his flesh sticky and lewd.

"– like the inside of a ripe fruit – like Eve in paradise –" He breathed out, staring at her as if he were looking at something delightful, accelerating the splats of his hand with a low grunt of pleasure. "– so beautiful –"

She felt a thrill of pleasure shake her, shivers ran through her cheeks, breasts and legs at his words, so shameless and yet poetic, beautiful, like the Song of Songs of King David.

"– her breasts are like two fawns –" She hummed, quoting one of the biblical verses, the gaze of her King again fixed on her face, full of fire, heavenly or infernal. "– like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies –"

"– her lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb – milk and honey are under her tongue –" He whispered in reply, quoting another of the songs from the manuscript, making her involuntarily allow her own fingers to invade her insides at last.

She threw her head back with a girlish moan, her free hand gripping the frame of his bed, rolling her hips back and forth, stretching her tight interior with the sticky clicks of her wetness.

"– she is a spring enclosed – a sealed fountain –" He muttered and let out a low, helpless groan of relief, leaning down, his hand lying on the table top clenched into a fist.

She felt a wonderful convulsion shake her body at his words, her fleshy, moist walls beginning to throb and clench around her own fingers.

She imagined that her body had just sucked his seed deep inside her, which would take root in her like a tree, giving him a future and an inheritance.

She moaned as she felt her pleasure reach its peak, seeing for a moment only the darkness before her eyes – her fingers, all wet with her moisture stroked for a moment more the little spot deep inside her, her whole body hot and sweaty from the exertion.

Her release was wonderful and sweet, as if she had tasted the most delicious of fruits.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, his figure relaxed and spread out comfortably on the chair, his hand laid back on its armrest, his glove sticky with something pearly and shiny.

They breathed loudly for a while, just watching each other – she decided not to cover her body, wanting to give him that pleasure, wishing only his gaze could see her like this.

Bare.

He sighed quietly, cocking his head, his gaze satisfied, indicating that he had clearly made a decision in his heart.

"– I will marry you tomorrow at dawn –"

She blinked and raised herself up on her elbows, horrified.

"– my King – that's not –"

"– I know that this was not your intention – I also know that you will understand that it will be a white marriage, which I will declare to all and sundry – you will not lose your maidenhood – you will not bear me children – the Kingdom will treat you after my death as a saint who stood by the dying King in his misery – when I join my Father in the Heavens, you will be free to remarry –" He explained and she shook her head, feeling offended by his words.

"– I will not take another husband –"

He fell silent and swallowed hard, as if something in the certainty in which she said this moved him deeply.

"– very well – I have only one condition: you will never take off my mask – not even after my death – you will see me as I am only in the Kingdom of Heaven –"

[wakeup01]

buttslut

If you had asked Dante whether he would ever bottom, 1, he would probably punch you. And 2, he would insist that topping gays was just something 100% straight men like him did. And he’d say it with…well, with a ‘straight’ face. It was a display of superiority and power, an act to show people their place. He wouldn’t be seen dead bent over, presenting his rear. The mere idea disgusted him, a fact he made very clear when loudly talking to his recently made friend, Cris, inside the local inclusive night club.

An unlikely friendship that only came about from bumping into each other while Dante was taking selfies in the college bathrooms. Something of a regular past time, as Cris quickly learned. Even in a public place, Dante didn’t miss the opportunity to admire his own body, smirking as several gay guys around him turned to get a glimpse. Maybe that was the only real reason he agreed to come along. Then again, he was capable of being kindhearted, in his own special way.

“You see those pathetic ‘guys’ earlier? Practically begging to be shown what a real man can do.” Dante commented, chugging down the rest of his beer. Blatantly ignoring the warning hanging on the wall which stated ‘discrimination will not be tolerated’. Yes. Kind. In his *own* special way. “You get me?”

“Uh huh...” Cris sheepishly replied, trying to hold back a wince. Looking down with disappointment, his eyes tearing up slightly. Now definitely wasn’t a good time to reveal that he was actually trans. Maybe when the sun was about to implode, yes, that seemed like a more appropriate occasion.

Dante was a somewhat typical douchebag jock in most respects, keen to display his dominance and superior body to anyone with a hole to fill. A fuckstick with a guy - rather inconveniently, attached. Dante pushed out his perfectly sculpted chest and flexed his rippling muscles while he made his openly deriding remarks as a group passed him by. Deliberately yelling over the obnoxious club song that was blaring overhead. Cris merely laughed nervously, ashamed to admit his infatuation with Dante’s body - adjusting his trousers as his dick unconsciously rose to attention at Dante’s confident voice.

“Christ, your drink looks kinda fruity. You should try some of mine.” He lifts a glass and holds it out.

“Maybe later, do you want to go dance? I kinda dig this Charli…song.” Cris’ voice peters out at the expression shot in their direction. “Maybe not, huh.”

Unfortunately for Dante, the patrons and staff weren’t too keen on his ‘colourful’ choice of words, especially when starting to talk about ‘butt sluts’, as he put it. A bit of glitter blown in his direction was all that was needed to kickstart a change in perspective. Cris watched with wide eyes as he witnessed his toxic crush’s language and demeanour gradually adjust in front of him.

Dante attempted to brush away the glitter that somwhow got all over him. “The fu—fudge is this gay shi—shizzle!” Instead he only managed to spread it everywhere, speeding up the adjustments. Dante took another sip of beer and scrunched his nose up at the taste, pushing the drink aside. His stiff and once proud stature grew limp, hips swaying to the rhythm of the club music. The plethora of swears and insults softened into a series of enthusiastic lisps and giggles. His deep voice changing pitch one word at a time. “This soOOoong s—slaps, like, a totes banger!” Dante shouts out, to his friends amusement.

“But I thought you hated this—“

“Uhhhh, as if!” Dante’s whiney intonation quickly interjects, somewhat unbefitting of the muscled body it came from, his defined pecs still pushing out against the thin fabric of his tank top.

A warm insatiable itch caused Dante to absently remove his top and shorts, revealing a jockstrap cupping his bubbly rear - which quickly doubled in mass as it comically splayed out beneath him. A result of the rainbow glitter sticking to his sweaty body. The rest of him remained built like a tank, wide shoulders and thick thighs. A meaty chest glistening under the flickering lights of the club. He was so hot, but not just in appearance. The drunken stupor had fully gripped his easily manipulated mind. Everything around him suddenly seemed soo funny.

“Gawd, my butt’s, like, pretty big. Weird. Heehee.” Dante points out, turning slightly to show Cris, causing his cheeks to wobble. “Do girls even want big butts on guys?”

“Well…I…” Cris stammers, blushing bright red at the image of his ultra masculine friend shaking his butt while effeminately biting his lip.

“Like suuuper big and…” Internally Dante was unaware of his out of character behaviour, unquestioning as his brutish dominance was purged, replaced by adorably bratty submissiveness. He was the same old Dante deep down, just…happier. And sluttier. His body unconsciously began to gyrate to the heavy bass throbbing in his head. All he noticed was the growing need centred around his tight hole. His fingers cautiously touched the jiggly mound of flesh weighing him down from behind. Dante’s eyes filled with lust as he stared at his friend Cris, noting the sight of him and all the other hot men around him. A pleasurable sigh escapes his pursed lips.

“Big and…empty.”

A couple minutes of character growth later, members of staff arrived to offer Dante ‘vip status’ at the club. A program they had setup to deal with any ‘troublemakers’. Dante didn’t mind however, and agreed instantly. Cris followed as he got directed out the back door towards his new station, taking his position as a public relief hole. Leaning against the wall as the cool night air brushed against his bare skin. All the while he was incapable of keeping his hands off his rear, feeling it up without a second thought as onlookers watched. Dante simply nodded along dimly while the club’s manager explained that he was about to be fucked and used repeatedly to atone for his remarks. That once he has filled his quota, he and his twerkable bubble butt would become the club’s next permanent dancer.

Dante smiles and says “mmkay” while pushing his hands against the wall and widening his legs - staring blankly ahead. “Like this?” There was a little sign above his head that simply read ‘hole’ with an arrow pointing down. Just in case it wasn’t clear.

Cris made sure he was first in line to try out the new resident ‘butt slut’. He positions himself behind Dante, and struggles to hold back a laugh at the sight of the once bigoted jock willingly preparing to get dicked. He definitely liked him a lot more like this - the same muscled physique, but without the crude superiority complex. Their friendship was sure to hit new heights.

“Ready? Let me show you what a ‘real man’ can do.” Cris says with a newfound sense of confidence. Playfully, he spins Dante’s baseball cap around and places his hands across the himbo’s rear, parting his huge round cheeks to show off the cherry he was about to pop - before the rest of the club would inevitably leave him gaping.

“Mm.” Is all Dante can muster before Cris’s cock forcefully stretches him open and leaves him moaning like the natural cock hungry bottom he now was. “Don’t—don’t stawwwp babe!”

[buckyownsmylife]

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ. 

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is�� Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

[mr2swap]

I'm going to stay like Jeremy

-What the fuck is wrong with me?! - I looked down at my big cock now flaccid, I assumed that I would finally lose my virginity at last tonight, but why doesn't it want to work?, I closed my eyes and began to imagine Violet the naked girl who was in the other room, Violet Anderson, the sexiest girl in all of high school, found herself willing to have sex with me, or well at least with my best friend Jeremy.

Jeremy is my best friend, the person to whom I can tell anything, and the biggest stud in all of high school, when I told him that I had a lot of problems losing my virginity, he did not hesitate to help me, we are so confident that I do not hesitate to give me a solution to my problem, swap our bodies.

He found a spell on the internet that when said at the same time by two people would make them switch bodies, so one day after school we went to my house when my mother was at work and in my room we both began to say in unison the strange words of a language that I had never heard. our bodies began to transform.

I continued speaking in that strange language while looking at Jeremy's face, slowly his face became mine as well as the rest of his body and when he finished saying the last sentence in front of me there is an exact copy of my body, look down Jeremy's new look, my Asian features, short stature, even longer messy hair were transferred to him, as was his strong jaw, long legs and thick arms full of protruding veins were transferred to me.

-DUDE! this shit if it worked! you look exactly like me!-he looked up at me surprised to see what the rest of us saw in him, a gigantic muscle, her clothes were too big for her now, while mine was squeezing me a little. -Dude, is that how I sound? - I also said testing Jeremy's voice, I could feel how slowly my tank top was ripping, before it completely ripped I took it off, throwing the stretched piece of clothing into a pile of dirty clothes, although I should probably throw it away in the trash when I return to my body.

Jeremy and I had swapped bodies. We took off our clothes, it was fucking strange to see my body from Jeremy's perspective, my body was quite average, somewhat plump, but I didn't look bad, maybe he was right, and I just need more confidence, now I felt better than I ever felt. Stronger, taller, more hot.

I suddenly felt full of energy, every movement in Jeremy's body was so strong and felt so fast that it was difficult to walk with my powerful legs, we both looked at each other in the mirror that was in front of my room and while Jeremy examined his face With his hands I couldn't avoid doing a push-up with my magnificent biceps - Jesus Christ! a couple of inches more and they are the size of your head! - I said putting one of my mountains next to my old head just to compare the sizes.

Jeremy took off his old shirt that was now too big for him and tossed it to me, his shorts fell off on their own, leaving him in just a pair of boxers that were too big for his new body. We were both fully dressed, we came to an agreement. We would change again after I lost my virginity in his body from him, and he had a little fun with some girl to test how it feels to lose my virginity in my body.

Take his things, the keys to his house, his phone and leave him alone at my house to get used to a bit, I was anxious so, so I wasted no minute and unlocked Jeremy's phone to look at his contact list and to my surprise had been texting Violet the sexiest and most popular girl in high school.

He had only spent 20 minutes in Jeremy's handsome body, and he had already found someone to fuck, Flirting when you are taller, muscular and handsome was really simple … but why DOES NOT GET A FUCKING INCH GET UP THIS DICK?

Everything was going so well until we got to the motel, and she started undressing, when I realized that my little friend was not in the mood to get up at all, I pretended to have diarrhea and ran to the hotel bathroom while the hot girl stayed waiting for me in the bed, all the stress began to affect me and my body began to sweat and get hot from humiliation

-What's wrong with me? - I looked in the mirror, it was the face of my best friend Jeremy, now he was handsome, now he was attractive, now he had huge muscles, now he had a huge cock, why? …

Without realizing it now I had a huge erection as I looked at Jeremy's body, I wanted to stop, go to the side room and fuck the girl who was there, but I couldn't. Flex one of my arms, just to be able to look at him, I put my other hand to my cock and I began to stimulate my cock, I looked at my sweaty armpit and I could not resist dipping my nose into the sweaty dregs of Jeremy, they were so smooth my tongue didn't feel a trace of scratchiness because he used to shave completely for amateur bodybuilding competitions.

It didn't take too long to ejaculate. I was very excited by all the new sensations. I had never felt so good in my whole life even though I just masturbated was the best thing I had ever tried, I fixed my gaze on the mess I had made in the bathroom and at that moment I finally realized -I am… .gay ? - I didn't know what it meant to be gay, but I was sure of one thing. I can't give it back now that I know there's something better than having sex with a hot girl is having sex with your best friend's hot body and loving it properly.

I can't give him back his body from him now that I'm experiencing so much pleasure. I refuse to give up this body and this life, I do n't know how Jeremy will take it but if I can keep his body from him I do n't care, I just hope Jeremy is enjoying being straight, maybe he might like it almost as much as me

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my Ko-fi, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[crookedteethed]

WORLD'S sluttiest assistant | r.c.

[warning] 18+ smut (pinv), oral (m receiving) face fucking, language, abuse of power, degradation, dubcon, porn with little plot, mentions of spit, Dacryphilia

You were always told to knock before entering Mr. Cameron's office, no matter the circumstances.

You wait for his response, your body shaking, not only because of the piping hot coffee (a request from Mr. Cameron) burning your hand but also the fear you feel for whatever lies behind the door in front of you because you know you had fucked up, bad.  

"Come in." you hear him say. His tone rich in annoyance, but what else was new?

You entered his office on his command a wobbling mess.

"Y-your coffee, sir. One black coffee. No sugar or cream.”

You didn't mean to stuttter, it was just something you often found yourself doing in the presence of your boss.

It was his cold cerulean stare that always made you feel so small.

As you walked the coffee to his desk, you made sure to watch your ever step--because even the slightest thing could tick off your boss.

When you placed the coffee on his desk, Rafe was quick to take it, taking one long sip from it. He let out a pleased sigh when he was done.

Then you watched as he stood up from his desk, walked to his glass cabinets, and pulled out a thick cream folder.

Your body tensed as Rafe slowly brought himself to the edge of his desk, nearly inches away from your body.

"Look over this for me." he told you, handing you the cream folder, a condescending smile tugged on his lips.

Instantly, you recognized your work. The same work you did overtime for the night before and left on Rafe's desk.

"What is this?" Rafe asked you when you were done skimming through the folder.

"I-it's the paperwork for our client, Coldwater Creek..." you trail off, unsure whether to continue, as you couldn't tell if this was good news Rafe was hearing or the opposite.

Nonetheless, you continued.

"This paperwork finalizes their demolition process, Sir.”

Rafe hums.

"So, this is the paperwork for Coldwater Creek?" he asked you, which couldn't have been more then a trick question.

You nod anyway.

You watched as Rafe visibly gotten angry, his eyebrows furrowing and is eyes turning wild.

"The same Coldwater Creek we dropped a few weeks ago, correct?”

Rafe stood up from his desk, his tall stature hovering over you like a skyscraper; it was right then that you wanted to kick yourself in the teeth, realizing you had settled the wrong paperwork for the wrong company.

You felt yourself get teary eyed, tears piled up in your tear ducts just waiting to be released.

Rafe continued. "Do you know how pissed the President of Coldwater Creek was to find out one of his branches had gotten demolished by our wrecking crew, Y/n? He'd threaten to sue."

It was the anger in his demeanor but the lack of it in Rafe's tone that made the first tear slip down your cheek.

"Jesus Christ, what are you crying for? This affects me more than it does you." He smacks his teeth.

He sighs.

"You can stop crying because I talked Mr. Cobblestone down, luckily, and he won't sue. However, this means that Cameron Development now has to build a free property for a company that owes us money. Like, Wow, Y/n, do you know what you have done?" He sounds astonished.

"I don't mean to sound rude when I ask you this, but, what the fuck? Are you that much of an idiot, Y/n?" He asks you.

You couldn't tell if he really wanted you to answer the question, but even if you could, you couldn't as you been a standing crying mess in front of him.

"Can you stop fucking crying!" He shouted for the first time, which ironically made you cry even more.

"Shit." Rafe gritted, palming himself. "Get on your fucking knees, now." He commanded, pushing you down by your shoulders and fumbling with his belt buckle and pushing down his slacks.

Rafe doesn't let you process what is even happening before taking your face and slamming his cock down your throat--all nine inches of him, causing a gag to elicit from your mouth. 

A forceful tear escapes from your closed eyes as Rafe brings your head as close as possible to his body to where his cock is pressed deep into the back of your throat.

He stays like this for a moment, sighing and relishing in the feeling of your warm, wet, pathetic mouth taking him whole. 

You stared up at him with pleading, teary eyes--with the occasional "GAK!" that would irrupt from your mouth. 

Then suddenly, Rafe begins getting himself off with your mouth. 

"Fuck, that's it, honey." He cooed, with a fist full of your hair bobbing back and forth. 

"D-do you know how bad this makes my company look, Y/n?" Rafe continued the conversation as if you weren't gagging on his cock right now. 

"Do you have any idea how bad this makes me look?”

Nothing in life could have prepared you for this very moment--giving your boss a bj while he yells at you about how much you'd fuck up. 

You hated yourself for how much you liked this.

Your cunt was dripping by the minute. 

"This makes me and my company look unprofessional. When people think of Cameron Development, they think of me, not a bimbo slut like you." Rafe told you, each thrust growing aggressive.

"Any little fuck up you do, will always get pinned back to me." He said through gritted teeth. "Do you understand that?" 

As Rafe continues to face fuck you, your jaw begins to grow sore, and you can't help but notice the saliva that drips down your chin. 

"Dicks got your tongue? Didn't you hear me?" Rafe had gripped your head. "I said, do you understand me?"

Why did he have to make it so hard on you? 

Pathetically, you nod, hoping he will give you a break. But to your dismay, Rafe said:

"I don't think you do understand me, Y/n. I guess I'll have to show you." 

And before you knew it, Rafe was lifting and bending you over the edge of his glass desk. 

The cool touch of the glass against your skin sent shivers down your spine as he tore through your tights with an almost animalistic urgency.

You could feel the adrenaline building as you surrendered to the moment.

It wasn't long until Rafe was shoving you to the brim with his cock.

Rafe's movements were primal and his grip on your hips were firm, yet possessive, as he held you in place.

Skin-on-skin slapping and quick breaths filled the room.

The sensation of the deep drag of Rafe's thick cock penetrating inside of your cunt had you blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy. 

You could feel the tension building, a delicious pressure that threatened to overwhelm you.

Now and then, Rafe would either degrade you about how much of a dumb slut you were or praise you for having such a tight cunt--which would only add to the tension building in your core. 

It was when you began meeting Rafe with his thrust did he stop insulting you and started focusing on one thing: his sweet release in your cunt. 

With each meeting of your hips, the intensity grew, and Rafe's focus sharpened. His breaths became ragged, and the primal urgency in his movements spoke volumes more than words ever could.

The heat was building up inside of you.

Rafe's grip tightened around your waist, guiding you to match his pace, urging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

With each thrust, Rafe's focus deepened, his eyes locked onto your heart shaped ass with intensity.

As the tension reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, the world around you blurring into a whirlwind of pleasure.

Rafe's movements became more urgent, his breaths more frantic, and you knew he was close and the thought of his release sent a thrill through you, pushing you closer to your own climax.

In that moment, nothing else mattered as both you and Rafe came undone.

Rafe's urgent thrusts drove you both to the edge, and as he lost himself in the depths of pleasure, you felt the wave of your climax crashing over you.

It was a powerful release, a culmination of desire that left you breathless and trembling.

And like every time after you had fucked, Rafe was in such a hurry to act like nothing had happened. 

By the time you could strengthen yourself and fix your tattered and bunched clothing, Rafe had already been at his desk and typing away on his laptop, finishing up his coffee. 

And just as you were leaving his office, Mr. Cameron told you: 

"I've seen enough of you today; take the rest of the day off, and come back with your head screwed on right tomorrow."

[haztory]

i’m a firm believer that john price, while he loves to take care of his lady and spoil her endlessly, is not a fan of seeing her reduced down to a baby.

if he’s into daddy kinks, it’s with the premise of you making him a daddy just as he will make you a mommy. if he’s spanking you, it’s not as a means of punishment but instead because it riles you up. he’s not into feeling abnormally ancient within a relationship dynamic, he actually quite likes when his woman is on par with him— intellectually, maturity, physically. he doesn’t like infantilization because he’s not into girls, he’s into women. sturdy ones that can hold their own and dish out as much as they can take.

it comes with its occasional drawbacks, however. the one—and only time— john ever lost his temper and yelled at you (not because you made him angry but because work is stressful, and his last assignment left him having a hard time readjusting to home, and you’ve been so patient, and he’s frustrated that he just can’t be what you need him to be) it was a staunch reminder that this is not a fling with some naive girl who idolizes him for his age and stature. he’s in a relationship. an adult one.

you’re staring at him, a brow raised and a stern look on your face as the echoes of his shout settle in the room. it’s a kind of glare that is only etched out by mothers to their disobedient children. stilling and telling of how exactly you feel about john’s outburst. there is no reason for gnashing teeth and snarling bites when you’re asking how you can best support him. and while you know in your head he doesn’t mean it, it still doesn’t excuse it.

“let’s put a pause in this, cause clearly we’re not going to get anywhere.” you say, voice carefully neutral but he can see the rage bubbling in your gaze, “why don’t you go take a walk, and when we’re both calm, we can discuss this further.”

and he hates the therapy speak, the measured and careful approach to emotions— it’s ridiculous, almost insulting. you’re treating him like a child, an explosive time bomb when both comparisons could be further from the truth. he’s the expert in bomb handlings, for christ’s sake. but he listens, grabbing his keys and a cigar and stepping out the door with an annoyed huff.

time and space, john begrudgingly admits, works wonders on a irritated mind. he finds his error in the mist of vexed thoughts and irrational moods, tempers it down with a long drag of his cigar and the wash of brandy at the pub. and he’s remorseful, incredibly so as he walks through the threshold of your home when the sun is setting to find you in the loveseat, book in hand and dinner simmering on the stove. you spare him a quick glance before returning to your novel, nothing further said.

he stands at the door, shameful and cognizant of his idiocy. he’s removing his fisherman beanie from the top of his head and moves to stand before you on your place on the couch. it has you closing your book, laying it down on your lap as you turn your attention to the man.

“i’m sorry.” he says lowly, eyes fixed on the hat in his hand as he picks a stray string on the fabric. “i shouldn’t have shouted at you. there was no need for that.”

your eyes stare knowingly into his, understanding written all over your face and while it’s a relief to see, it’s only a further iteration of what he’s come to realize—you are not just anyone. you’re someone who he wants to build his home with, navigate through terse and stormy waters with because you’re the perfect balance to the man who tries so hard to balance it all. it’s not perfect, but you don’t care about that. you don’t need perfect, have never demanded it to be—you strive for healthy. you model it by example, and you’ve whipped him into shape for it.

“it’s hard adjusting right now.”

“i know,” you tell him softly. your hands grab at his, pulling him down to his knees so you can see him at your level. you place your hands on the sides of his face, bringing him in for a gentle and sweet kiss. “if it’ll help, i can give you some space. a couple of days, i can go stay with my parents—“

“no.” he’s quick to shoot it down, shaking his head and rubbing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, “i want you with me. i’m better when you’re with me.”

“okay.” you give him another gentle kiss. “thank you for apologizing. are you ready to eat some dinner or do you want to freshen up first?”

either choice doesn’t matter, he’d rather do whatever it is that you’re doing.

so yeah, john likes women who put him in his place. it turns him on a bit.

[kitkatscabinet]

Are you there God?

Summary: A chance meeting in the dilapidated remains of your mother's old church ends up changing the trajectory of two lives

Pairing: Jason Todd x f! Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of Christianity and nsfw themes. Unedited.

There’s a chill in the air, carrying with it the promise of an upcoming winter. The old church offers little reprieve from the harsh bite of the night air, the wind easily pushing through dilapidated wood. 

The many near burnt-out candles that flicker and cast dancing shadows across the darkened chapel emanate no heat. Nor does the flimsy jacket you’d hastily adorned before this impromptu midnight visit. 

Your fingertips tingle from the cool temperature, even as you exhale smoke from the cigarette you’d used one of the dying candles to light. 

Sacrilegious sure, you could perfectly picture the scowling faces of the nuns if they could see you, but it was one of those nights—the nights where you needed something, anything to take the edge off. 

And if nicotine was your preferred poison? Well better that than heroin you argued. 

Besides, if God existed then he had bigger issues to worry about than you sprinkling some ash on the floor of an old dilapidated church slated for condemnation. 

A tinge of sorrow hits you as you take in the poor state of what was once your mother’s church. You’ve no fond memories of the place, having hated being dragged along every Sunday by your more devout mother in your childhood. Now though, it’s one of your last remaining connections to your long passed mother. 

Gotham had never been an overtly religious city, you guessed it was hard to believe in a supposedly merciful God when you lived in such a shithole. And ever since the discovery of aliens, demons and the like, Gotham’s faith in anything divine had long since seemed to die out completely.

You stare up at the wooden Jesus hanging behind the pew contemplatively. It’s silly, you’re not even remotely religious but something compels you to speak to the empty space regardless. 

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned” That was how it went right? “It’s been… well forever since my last confession.” 

“I look like a priest to you darlin?” A startled screech leaves your lips at the unexpected masculine voice. Jolting, the butt of your cigarette flies from your hand, your free one clutching at your chest. 

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, trying to calm your hammering heart. 

“Not quite.” The voice rumbles as a muscular figure steps into your view. Your eyes trail from booted feet up to thick thighs adorned with gun holsters that inspire some incredibly less-than-holy thoughts. But it’s the blazing red bat symbol stretched across the man’s chest that makes your mouth run dry, it's the Red Hood.

You’d never seen the gun-toting, violent, vigilante in person but it's unmistakable who’s standing across from you now.�� Forcing your breathing to even out, you allow your muscles to relax as you lean back against the wooden pew. 

“Too pretty to be a priest.” You agree with his earlier statement, watching in amusement as the vigilante stutters in his steps. It was cute, watching a man of his renown and stature suddenly flounder in embarrassment. 

“Didn’t exactly take you to be the religious sort.” You say, gaze never once leaving his form as he slowly sits down on the creaking bench beside you. 

“I’m not.” He grunts.

“Me neither.” You confess, the two of you sitting in companionable silence as you stare up at the wooden Jesus that presided over the church. 

You don’t know what compels you to keep returning to that dilapidated old church (that’s a lie, you know damn well why), but like clockwork, every Sunday night you return. And every Sunday night, so does he. 

At first, he hadn’t been consistent. Why would he? The Red Hood had no reason to be skulking around a random church, nor did he have a reason to want to see you. 

Still, you kept going to that church, and unbeknownst to you, so did he. 

Since that first night, Jason Todd had been watching. What had started with concern over a young woman walking alone at night had morphed into curiosity into what he refused to acknowledge was a crush. 

Though he’s pretty sure not even the helmet had been able to hide the heart eyes he’d thrown your way when you admitted that Pride and Prejudice was your favourite novel. 

He’s late sometimes, bloodied and bruised, but three months following that first fateful meeting, the Red Hood goes out of his way to meet with a random civilian girl. 

It was nearing the two-month mark when everything changed. The both of you were forced to acknowledge the underlying tension of the odd and unexpected friendship that had formed in the twilight hours spent under the roof of a God neither of you believed in. 

It had been the first time you’d seen him injured, barely a scratch in Jason’s opinion, but the way you’d worked yourself into a frenzy of worry over him, the way you’d dropped to your knees before him and had taken his bloody knuckles into your gentle touch would forever be engraved into his mind. 

It’s at that moment that Jason realises God’s not there, because if so then surely he would have smitten Jason then and there for thinking such sinful thoughts in his house. Besides, as far as he was concerned, you were the only entity worth praying to anyway. 

He wants so badly to rip off the mask, secret identity be damned, and kiss you breathless. In the end, cowardice wins out, but Jason thinks back on that night often with regret. 

“Favourite hero go,” Red asks, turning to look at you with what you imagine is a smirk under his stupid red helmet. 

“It’s not you if that’s what you’re fishing for,” you grin, looking back up at the ceiling from where you lay on the wooden floor, protected from the dust and splinters by an old picnic blanket. 

The terrifying sort-of-crimelord lying beside you scoffs in offence like the big baby he is. 

“Ok then who is it?”

“Wonder Woman.”

“Oh that’s such a basic bitch fucking answer.” You know he’s joking, Red’s made it clear that despite his distaste for Batman he respects the hell out of Wonder Woman. Still, you entertain him, rolling your eyes dramatically. 

“Fine, you wanna know the real answer? It’s Black Canary, but specifically when she was rocking that full-body black leotard with the mesh cutouts on the legs and the cropped bomber jacket.”

There’s a stunned silence that follows your passionate answer before Red bursts into laughter. 

“Oh, fuck you,” you quip, though there’s no actual heat behind your words. 

“You wish.” Any witty retort instantly dies on your lips and you’re suddenly distinctly aware of the heat emanating off his shoulder which brushes lightly against yours. 

Red has stopped laughing, coughing to clear his throat as you suddenly wish for the floor to swallow you whole. For anything to distract you from the way your mind suddenly races, filled with various images of different positions you could achieve right there in front of Jesus. 

“Right, well, I should probably go. Bad guys to catch and all.” It’s painfully awkward and so is your lacklustre response. 

“Oh, yeah … yeah.”

Neither of you move though and you don’t think you’ve ever been more hyper-aware of your body and the one lying next to you in your life. You quickly sit up, the vigilante mimicking your movements. 

“So um —”

“Well I — ” The both of you speak at once, you motion for him to go first and he clears his throat once more. 

“I should probably go now. Bye.” With that, he’s gone so fast he might as well have been the flash, leaving you alone to stew in the mortification and arousal that’s worked its way into your belly. 

A scream of frustration rips its way out of your throat when your mind conjures up the very graphic image of you straddling one of Red’s delicious thighs and refuses to drop the line of thought. 

Little did you know, Jason had needed to cut his patrol short for the same reason. A cold shower having practically screamed his name. 

Footsteps echoed up the aisle towards where you were sat in the front pew, as had become a tradition between you and your vigilante, playfully you turn towards the source. “Hey Red, you’re late — ” the words die on your tongue, mouth running dry as you take in a trio of figures, none of whom are the Red Hood. 

The fear must show on your face as you shakily stand, and try to create space from the ominously grinning men. 

“What’s the matter darlin?” One of them drawls, and you want to throw up at the use of the petname, that was what he called you. 

“Look, I don’t know what you want but my friend will be here soon.” You mentally curse yourself when you notice the way your voice quivers, and the men clearly pick up on it too. 

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Fear nearly roots you to your place at the surety in his words, but you live in Gotham and Red Hood has made it his mission to get you to be able to defend yourself. 

You don’t think, you just move, and when the nearest guy reaches out to grab your arm you knee him in the balls. He goes down with a howl and you think you break the second guy's nose if the crunch is any indication. 

The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety has you stopping in your tracks once more.  “That’s it, just settle down now. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, unwilling to give them the satisfaction. Goon #2 uses the opportunity to grab your arm in a bruising grip before a blow to the cheek leaves you reeling, black dots dancing across your vision as you struggle to regain your senses. 

“Speak for yourself, the little bitch broke my fucking nose.” 

“What do you want from me?” You croak when you finally regain the ability to speak, ignoring the metallic taste of blood on your tongue. 

“From you? Nothing. It’s not personal darling, but the word around here is that the Red Hood is sweet on ya, and well, I don’t appreciate the way he’s been nosing about my business lately.”

You should be terrified of the implications of that statement, about what these men will do to you, and you are — but you can’t stop thinking about how Red will inevitably blame himself for anything that happens to you. 

You close your eyes, trying to make peace with what is likely the hour of your death. You’re in a house of God, you should be praying to him, and yet all you can think of is Red. Your Red.

A gunshot rings out, followed by another, and another. When seconds pass and you feel no pain you open your eyes, just in time to witness the Red Hood reaching gently for your face. Despite yourself, you flinch slightly when his gloved hand brushes lightly against your cheek. 

He reels back as if stricken, and immediately you wish to rectify your mistake. With a sob, you launch yourself into his arms, ignoring what is probably the corpses of the three men lying on the ground. 

“You saved me,” you mumbled against his chest, relishing in how safe you felt encased in his arms. 

“Always.” There’s such surety in that single word, such devotion that you believe him. 

“Red — ” you mumble, pulling away to meet what you expect to be the whites of his mask, only to gasp when you find yourself looking into swirling pools of blue-green. 

“Jason,” the whispered name is a confession to you alone, though you barely have time to ponder the new information before a pair of lips descend upon your own. Your eyes flutter closed once more, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 

You’ll deal with the after-effects of what you just experienced later, what almost happened to you, for now, you’re content to remain absorbed in Red’s — in Jason’s arms.

The man who'd been there when God wasn't.

[rileysluvr]

where simon comes home to you. this was gonna be cute but i’m allergic to writing anything without smut :( nsfw!!

When Simon came home from deployment, he felt horrible.

Stepping through the front door of your shared condominium for the first time in months, the familiar smell of vanilla from your earlier baking flooded the house and his every sense as he left his bags and gear at the door, quietly locking it behind him. He always arrived late at night, exhausted, and tempted by every bar he passed on the cab ride home, but reminded by his aching muscles and worn polaroid photo between his fingers of why he was still breathing, what was waiting at home for him. How he thought of you every second of his deployment, wishing every question and command coming at him was instead a laugh, or whimper, even—he knows he shouldn’t be having these thoughts in such a setting or position, but he couldn’t help it—from your sweet lips, and every fresh bruise to be replaced with the lingering feel of your kisses on his bare skin.

How your pretty voice ate away at his mind, the image of your body under his stature teasing him almost painfully, no matter if he was five-thousand miles from home, or standing behind you in the kitchen, arms tight around your waist as you struggled to continue cooking breakfast with the weight of him almost toppling you over. Your giggles, caused by his lips on your neck, driving him to taking the pan from your grip and pushing it off the burner, spinning you around and picking you up by the thighs with ease, carrying you to the bedroom to have his first and favorite meal of the day as you playfully protest.

These small memories played back in his head as he crossed the hall to the master bedroom, softly pushing the cracked door open. There you laid, sleeping atop the covers, only wearing one of his large t-shirts to combat the summer heat. It warmed his old heart, seeing how much you truly loved him, despite how many times he had told you, Love, you deserve better.

Someone who didn’t have to leave you for months at a time, appearing at the strangest hours at night, only to be gone again sometime within the next few weeks. Someone you could actually talk to about their job with, share interests and experiences of the life of a young adult with. I don’t want anyone better, you batted with a frown.

And you stayed, for some odd reason he couldn’t bring himself to understand, but by God, did he feel disgustingly good for it, because you were his, and he could indulge in your every want.

He sighed when he noticed the way you were curled up, facing his side of the bed as you had fallen asleep with a pillow held tight in your arms. His chest tightened, breathing shallower than usual. Guilt; a feeling he had grown quite used to, though it never got easier. Leaving you alone for such long periods, knowing you were most likely thinking of him just as much as he was of you. Hanging out with the friends you didn’t seem to think of much when he was home, practically glued to each other’s hands and lips.

Christ, how you were probably— no, surely touching yourself to the thought of him fucking you like he always would. The thought of your fingers being replaced with his own, his mouth, begging the silent space around you for release like he was actually there with you; as would he, on the extremely rare occasion he was alone on base and without another demanding task calling his presence. Imagining the way your pretty face would contort, the sweetest whimpers slipping from your lips as he ate you out, making you cum quick, again and again each time, no matter if it’s been weeks or mere hours since he had done it last. He’d expect nothing in return—if you got off, he did too, simple as that—still, he’d never turn down the way you sat up on your knees, thighs weak and shaking, lips quivering and eyes pouting as you begged him for his cock you craved so badly.

You would always confess your lusting to him when he came home, cheeks heating up under your already rosy blush with the way he’d pry you to tell him more. Exactly how you touched yourself, and how often, before he would lean in closer and admit to you his own sins, until you were a soaked mess from only his words. Squeezing your thighs together, closing your eyes and nearly grinding against the material under you, pathetic and desperate for his touch. He’d give in so easily to his sweet girl, bringing you onto his lap and planting his heavy hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth on his thigh until you came in your panties. All warmed up, and he would rid you of your clothes as you work to take his cock out. Relentlessly though unintentionally teasing your entrance with the fat, velvety tip of him with the time it takes for you to get readjusted to something so big. Stark contrast to your fingers, of which could never fulfill your needs, hold you quite like how he could. A man born to serve and not wanting you to work one bit, he assisted you in riding him, gentle with you in this position as he held you oh-so close, needing more and more of you by the second.

Your arms adjusted around the pillow in your sleep, burying your face in the plush fabric, and he was suddenly snapped out of his daydream. He had been standing there, leaned up against the doorframe, staring at you for Christ knows how long. How could you have such an affect on him?

He left to clean himself up, changing into some fresh clothes and downing a cold glass of water before joining you in bed. He carefully slipped the pillow from your grasp and replaced it with himself; bless you, for how heavy of sleeping habits you have. His arms engulfed your small body and pulled you impossibly close, and you snuggled into his hold, any part of you that wanted to wake up immediately being cooed back to sleep with his strained and soft voice telling you, It’s alright, Love ‘t's just me. I’m home. Go back to sleep.

[fxckadoodledoomunson]

A Heart Divided -4-

Previous

|4| Cause and Effect

Summary: Chrissy gives Eddie a piece of her mind, however it ends in disaster. Meanwhile, your goal to win the race may be set for failure.

Warnings: swearing, the jocks (except Lucas and Patrick) being dicks, reader’s sister being a bitch as usual, Eddie being a dick as usual.

Tagged: @somethingvicked @ali-r3n @mirandasidefics @mewchiili @erisdogwood @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @yourdailymemedelivery @pretendthisnameisclever

For a girl of small stature, Chrissy was able to drag Eddie out of the building with tremendous force until they were standing between the two buildings near the field where Chrissy stopped and turned to face Eddie, who was rubbing his wrist, as he winced. “Jesus, you almost broke the skin on my wrist,” he complained.

“Oh well,” Chrissy sarcastically replied, before mentioning that he could call it payback for scratching you.

Eddie huffed, as he put his hands in his pockets, before asking her, “So, you heard everything then?”

Instead of answering him, Chrissy silently held out her hand, before ordering him, “Hand it over.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to know what she wanted.

“Don’t fuck with me Eddie! Hand over the diary now!” She angrily demanded.

Eddie groaned, as he reluctantly took the diary out of his pocket and threw it at her.

As soon as she caught it, she immediately opened it, before reading the pages.

Meanwhile, you nervously stood near the pool with the other competitors, as you watched a lot of people taking their seats. You looked around to find your family and Wayne standing together. However, you didn’t see Eddie next to your sister. You didn’t find it strange until you noticed that Chrissy was missing too. You turned to the cheer squad, catching Aimee’s attention. “Where’s Chrissy?” You asked her.

Aimee looked around, before she shrugged her shoulders, unsure where the head cheerleader was. You scanned the place for her when you heard the referee tell everyone to go to their designated spots.

In the audience, the jocks were chatting away when Andy, who left earlier to have a smoke, approached Jason. “Jason,” he said in a hushed tone.

Jason shushed him, before Andy tried to speak again, “Jason, listen-“

“Shh man,” Jason silenced him, telling him that the race was about to start.

Andy groaned, as he sat back.

Back in the pool, you were getting ready to dive when you noticed a grandfather clock at the end of the pool. The ticking of the clock grew louder, drowning out the referee’s voice.

You stood still, fixated on the clock that you didn’t notice the whistle blow or the opponents diving into the pool until the coach went up to you and shouted, “What are you doing?! Get in!”

You snapped yourself out of the illusion, finding the clock was gone. You immediately lowered your goggles over your eyes and dove in, trying to overtake your opponents.

Back outside, Chrissy thoroughly read the pages before letting out a scoff.

“I know, it’s unbelievable,” Eddie said. “I didn’t think that she had it in her to write that.”

Chrissy looked up at him angrily, as she asked, “You know what’s unbelievable?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows when she told him, whilst whacking his arm with the diary, “That you… really think… that she would… write any… of… that...shit!”

“Jesus H Christ, Chrissy! Stop!” Eddie bellowed, as he was backed up against the wall.

Chrissy opened the diary, and shoved it in his face, as she asked, “You really think that I couldn’t tell if my best friend wrote this or not?”

Eddie was about to speak up when Chrissy held the diary up once more, as she pointed out that ,not only there were plenty of spelling mistakes, but there were no doodles on the pages.

“Do you really think that someone who was asked to tutor you would make lots of mistakes?” She asked. “And I know for a fact that she would draw in her pages as well.”

“So what are you saying?” Eddie asked. “That her sister just copied her handwriting and showed me the diary just to break my friendship with her?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Chrissy then pointed out that your sister was jealous of you for some reason.

Suddenly, Eddie had let out a scoff, before asking the cheerleader, “Are you sure that it’s not the other way around?”

Chrissy gaped, not believing what he just asked, before silently glaring at him. She then raised her hand and slapped Eddie’s cheek.

Meanwhile, you had managed to overtake most of the opponents, as you swam vigorously, just behind two or three other swimmers.

As the jocks continued to watch you, a frustrated Andy tried to get Jason’s attention. “What?!” Jason growled. “What is so important that you-“

“Your girl’s with the freak,” Andy blurted out.

Jason’s face softened, as Andy mentioned that he saw them outside.

Jason searched where the cheerleaders were, realising that Chrissy wasn’t with them, before looking to where Wayne was sitting next to an empty seat, noticing that Eddie wasn’t sitting with him. He then remembered that, not only Eddie went to see you before the race, but also Chrissy went to the changing room before you and Eddie went in. However, he never saw either of them come out.

Suspicious of the situation, Jason turned to his teammates, telling them to follow him, as he stood up and started walking out of the building, with a confused Lucas and Patrick following him.

“Did her sister really screw you too many times that it shrunk your brain?” Chrissy scolded Eddie, who was rubbing his cheek. “I can’t believe that you would treat someone who was willing to help you graduate like shit. And instead of asking her about the diary, you jumped to conclusions, thinking the worst of her.”

Before Eddie could answer back, she told him, “She really liked you, Eddie. Even before I knew how she really felt about you, she always had been kind to you.”

As she stepped closer to him, she confessed, “Why do you think I went to you for weed and not asked someone else to get it for me instead? I came to you, even though I initially thought that you were going to be mean and scary, because I knew that if she could go to you without being intimidated, then maybe I could have the guts to ask for help.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Eddie suddenly gave her a snarky smirk.

Meanwhile, you were still swimming with all your might, overtaking all your opponents when suddenly, you heard the clock ticking again. You tried to ignore it, and carried on swimming until you heard the same dark voice calling you. You slowed down, as you noticed that the lights were flickering and the water was turning red. You weren’t sure if it was a prank or not. You questioned what was happening when suddenly, an aquatic demon swam passed, causing you to open your mouth, almost making you choke. Unsure what was happening, you swam up to the surface and climbed up the ladder, not realising that you were back to reality. There was a hubbub in the crowd, who were confused by why you were getting out.

You coughed , as you quickly walked past the pool, trying to control your breathing when the coach shouted, “What are you doing?! You almost had it!”

Back outside, Eddie approached Chrissy, as he smirked at her. “The guts to ask for help, huh?” He mocked, before asking if you knew that she went to him for drugs.

“Yes, I told her,” she admitted. “And about the nightmares.”

“Which Carver still has no clue about, right?”

Chrissy chewed the inside of her cheek, not answering the question. Eddie’s expression turned serious, before asking, as he moved closer, “Tell me Chrissy, did you tell your best friend what happened when you were in my trailer?”

Chrissy glared at him, as she was about to answer when they heard someone shouted, “Hey freak!”

It was Jason.

Eddie stepped away from Chrissy, who was clenching the diary against her chest, as the jocks approached them. “Looks like the Calvary have arrived,” Eddie sarcastically said, as the group moved closer.

“What’s going on, Chris?” Jason asked. “Why are you here with the freak?”

Before Chrissy could respond, Eddie interjected, “We’re just talking-“

“I didn’t ask you,” Jason retorted, as he pointed at him, before turning to his girlfriend.

Chrissy looked up, and told him, “Like he said, we were just talking.”

Jason scoffed, before asking, “Talking? What could be so important to talk about that could make you miss your best friend’s race?”

Before Chrissy could say anything, Andy snatched the diary out of her hands from behind. “Hey!” Chrissy exclaimed.

Andy lifted the diary up, waving it away from Chrissy’s grasp as he mocked her.

“What do we have here? The freak’s book of rituals?” Andy snickered.

“Give it back!” Chrissy shouted, as she tried to grab it when she lost her balance, almost falling down to the ground, only to be caught by Eddie.

Immediately, Jason pushed Eddie against the wall, shouting, “Don’t you dare touch her!”

Meanwhile in the changing room, you were sitting on the bench in your school tracksuit, taking deep breaths while Robin, Vickie, Erica and Max, as well as Mike and Dustin comforted you. Earlier, the coach and your father kept questioning you why you threw the competition, and the more they asked, the more agitated you got, which prompted Steve to step in and stopped them interrogating you.

As you kept taking deep breaths, your sister hummed with satisfaction, before saying in a mocking tone, “Oh dear, I guess you can kiss that scholarship goodbye.”

You looked up in anger, whilst your father scolded her, “You be quiet!

However, she didn’t stop there. She continued, whilst checking herself in the mirror, “I mean, let’s face it. You didn’t think that you had a chance in winning the competition, did you?”

You were about to go up to her and slap her when you were stopped by Erica’s voice. “Well, she definitely had more of a chance in winning the competition than you do in winning Miss America.”

You and your friends stifled their laughter, as your sister stomped towards Erica, as she asked mockingly, “Didn’t your parents teach you to keep quiet when grownups are talking, little girl? You should run along and play with your Barbie dolls, and butt out.”

Erica scoffed, before telling her, “It would definitely beat participating in your boyfriend’s abysmal campaign, which no doubt was inspired by you.”

Mike and Dustin spluttered in laughter, which pissed off your sister.

Outside the building, Jason still had Eddie pinned against the wall, while Chrissy was still trying to grab the diary from Andy and Chance who kept throwing it back and forth between them when Patrick caught it, putting it in his jacket pocket, causing Chrissy to shake her head as Andy scoffed, “You never let us have any fun, Patrick.”

Lucas slowly approached Jason and Eddie, as he spoke up, whilst raising his hands at chest height, “Jason, listen…let go of Eddie. Someone-“

“Quiet, Lucas,” an agitated Jason retorted, as he turned to him, before shifting attention back to a snickering Eddie. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three to tell me why are you talking to my girlfriend or I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Throw me into the laundry basket?” Eddie snickered. “I like to see you try, big boy.”

Jason was getting more aggravated by Eddie’s remarks, as he seethed, before starting the countdown, “One…two…three-“

“I asked him to meet me!” Chrissy cried.

Jason, who had let go of Eddie, turned to his girlfriend, as she confessed, “I went to see him before and after the game last semester.”

Jason stared at her, as she continued to confess, “I’ve had been seeing things, horrible things, that frightened me so badly…”

Lucas gazed at her with concern, wondering what kind of things had been seeing, and if it had anything to do with the Upside Down, as Chrissy, quietly sobbed, “I went to Eddie to get something to help me…”

“Get something?” A concerned Jason asked. “You mean drugs, Chris?”

Chrissy lowered her head, before nodding it.

Jason exasperatedly inhaled, before shaking his head, telling her through gritted teeth, “That can’t be true. Please tell me that it’s not true.”

The rest of the boys stared at Chrissy, who admitted that it was true.

Jason turned to Eddie, before turning back to a nervous Chrissy, getting in her face, as he angrily said, “I’m your boyfriend, Chrissy. If you were frightened about something, you should’ve come to me. Not Eddie! Not that freak!”

“Jason…” Lucas calmly spoke.

“Stay out of it, Sinclair!” Jason shouted, frightening Chrissy.

“And you wonder why your own girlfriend didn’t come to you,” Eddie commented. “The way she is right now, she-“

With one swift move, Jason turned and jabbed Eddie in the face, causing him to hit his back against the wall.

“Eddie!” Chrissy cried, as she moved forward, only to be grabbed by Andy, while Jason continued his fight with Eddie, who managed to dodge him.

As Chrissy struggled to get out of Andy’s bear hug, Patrick tried to pull Andy off, telling him, “Andy, let go of her-“

Unfortunately, Chance pulled him away from Andy, causing him to be up against the wall. Luckily, Lucas caught Patrick, before he could hurt himself.

“Try and hold them off,” Lucas told a confused Patrick, before sprinting off.

Patrick called out to him, when Andy told Chance to go after him. As Chance went after Lucas, Patrick tried to pull Jason away from Eddie, warning him that he could get expelled, before being pushed away by the furious captain.

Back in the changing room, you and your friends continued to watch the spat between Erica and your sister who asked, whilst suppressing her anger, “Shouldn’t you be having a play date with a fellow kindergartener or something?”

“Uh, I’m eleven, you clown face bitch!”

“Erica!” Steve scolded the youngster.

“Just the facts!” Erica retorted, before telling your sister. “Oh, and by the way…”

She then pointed to her own teeth, as she hinted, “You might wanna check where the rest of your lipstick…”

Your sister gasped, as she covered her mouth, turning back to the mirror to check her makeup.

Your mother was about to scold Erica for insulting your sister when suddenly, Lucas ran inside. As he stopped for breath, Dustin asked, “Lucas, what is it?”

“Eddie…Chrissy…Jason, he…” he breathlessly said, trying to get his words out. “…beating…”

Fearing that your best friend and Eddie were in danger, you got up from the bench and immediately sprinted out of the changing room, before anyone could say anything.

Meanwhile, Patrick was trying to prevent Jason from beating Eddie up, while Chrissy was trying to free herself from Andy’s grasp.

“Jason, stop!” Patrick pleaded. “You’re gonna kill him.”

However, Jason had pushed Patrick away once again, before continuing to punch Eddie.

A tearful Chrissy begged Jason to stop, before gathering the strength to stomp on Andy’s foot, so she could make her escape. However, Andy managed to grab her wrist, aggressively pulling her back when Patrick walloped Andy in the face. After Patrick told her to run, Chrissy hesitated to leave Eddie. But when he told her the second time, she ran as fast as she could, ignoring Jason shouting her name when she bumped into you.

“Chrissy, are you okay?” You asked her petrified best friend.

Before Chrissy could respond, you heard Patrick begging Jason to stop, before he received a whack from Andy.

After you told Chrissy to go inside, you turned to witness the fight. As soon as you saw Eddie’s bloodied face, you flew into a rage, running towards Jason, pushing him off Eddie. Despite the way Eddie had been treating you recently, you couldn’t help but protect him.

“Stay out of it,” Jason told you, before trying to reach for Eddie, only for him to be blocked by you, as you tackled the jock to the ground, before punching him repeatedly in the face.

Eddie sat up against the wall, unsure what to make of the situation. Why? He thought. After all the grief I’ve been giving her lately, why would she save me?

Andy, free from Patrick’s grasp, went to pull you off Jason when Eddie growled, as he gathered the strength to pounce on Andy, which led you to continue to deck Jason, who kept begging you to stop.

You were about raise your fist once more before giving him another hit when you heard someone shouting out, “Stop! Enough!”

You turned to find Higgins, as well as your family and friends standing near you, while Steve, Dustin and Wayne rushed over to pick Eddie up, as Higgins bellowed , “MY OFFICE! NOW!”

As soon as you got to your feet, you heard Jason said breathlessly, “Munson was right…You really are a psycho.”

You swiftly turned around and snarled, as you about to lunge at him when Wayne pulled you back by your shoulders, as he tried to calm you down, “You don’t wanna get yourself into any more trouble than you already are.”

You turned to face Eddie, before angrily turning away, heading to the principal’s office when your face softened as soon as you saw the terrified Chrissy, assuming that you’ve also lost her as your best friend.

A few moments later in the principal’s office, you were being lectured by Higgins, with your parents giving you disapproving looks, while your sister tried to hide her smirk.

“Never in all my years as principal, have I seen such behaviour, especially coming from someone like you!”

A tear fell from your eye, as Higgins continued to lecture you, before he began to inform you of your punishment.

Back outside, everyone else, including Nancy who had found out from Max what happened earlier, was waiting for you, as they were overhearing Chrissy and Jason arguing when Dustin and Steve walked through the hallway.

“How’s Eddie?” Nancy asked.

“Still beaten up pretty bad,” Steve replied. “Wayne’s taking him to the hospital. With the work Jason did on him, looks like it’ll take a while until Eddie’s face fully recovers.”

Dustin was about to comment on the incident when the argument between Chrissy and Jason escalated.

Everyone turned to find Chrissy walking away from Jason when he suddenly grabbed her shoulders and pushed her to the wall, as he snarled, “I’m not finished!”

“HEY!” Steve bellowed, as he immediately marched towards them, before telling him to take his hands of a tearful Chrissy.

“Are you deaf, asshole?! Take your goddamn hands off her!”

Once Jason took his hands off Chrissy’s shoulders, Steve asked him, “Is this how you treat your your girlfriend when no one else’s around?”

“Ex girlfriend,” Chrissy corrected him.

“You’re not breaking up with me, you little-“ Jason started growling when Steve grabbed him by the collar of his letterman’s jacket, aggressively pushing him up against the lockers, when Nancy called out to Steve, pleading for him to stop, “He’s not worth it.”

Steve deeply inhaled, as he let go of Jason before threatening him, “You touch her again, and you’ll will be sorry.”

Jason turned to Chrissy, who was being comforted by Nancy, before shifting his attention back to Steve, walking away from him, whilst fixing his jacket.

Steve’s face softened, as he turned to Chrissy and asked if she was okay.

Chrissy silently gazed at him with tears brimming in her eyes when Nancy suggested, “Chrissy, why don’t I take you home?”

Although she never gave her answer, Chrissy still went with Nancy, as they left the building. Steve watched them walk away as Dustin asked, “What was that all about?”

Instead of answering, Steve paced back outside the office, waiting for news on you.

Back outside, Patrick was sitting on wall with Aimee, who told him that he should go to the hospital for his injuries.

“I’ll be fine, Aimee,” Patrick replied.

Believe me, I’ve had worse, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, Nancy and Chrissy were walking past them, catching Patrick’s attention.

“Chrissy?” He called out, as he got up and ran towards them. “Chrissy wait!”

Both girls stopped and turned to Patrick, who taking something out of his pocket, as Nancy spoke, “Look, if Jason asked you-“

“Here,” Patrick told Chrissy, as he handed her the diary. “I wanted to make sure that you got this back.”

As Chrissy received it, she gave him a small smile, before meekly replying, “Thank you.”

As Patrick went back to Aimee, Nancy escorted Chrissy to her car. As soon as they got inside , Chrissy was gazing at the diary when she had an idea.

Back inside the school, you and your family stepped out of the office. As soon as Higgins had shut the door, everyone immediately ran up to you, asking you what happened.

You looked up at everyone, before revealing that you got suspended for two weeks.

“Really? You’re still gonna graduate, right?” Robin asked.

You silently nodded as you gave her a sad smiled.

“Then, what’s the problem?”

You were about to explain everything when your sister had beaten you to the punch. “Well, let’s just say,” she revealed with a sly smile on her face. “She wouldn’t have banned from going to prom or lose her scholarship if she didn’t get into trouble.”

Your father scolded your sister, telling her, “Knock it off.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” You sarcastically asked her. “Just because you dropped out of college, doesn’t mean that you can ruin everything from me.”

Your mother told you to stop when you angrily retorted, “No! I’m sick of her making my life hell for the past few years!”

You then turned to her, as you asked, “We used to be close. What’s changed?”

Your sister cackled, before asking you, “I ruined everything for you? Or do you mean I ruined your chance with Eddie?”

You gasped, with tears brimming in your eyes, as your sister scoffed, “Face it, sis…you didn’t have a chance with him anyway, or anybody else for that-“

Having enough of her, you snarled as you raised your hand and slapped her across the face, making her gasp.

“Fuck you!” You shouted when your mother abruptly slapped your cheek hard, shocking everyone, including you. Never in your life had either of your parents raised a hand to you until that moment.

Your father pulled your mother back, as she covered her mouth, realising what she had done. She tearfully took a small step forward, as she stammered, “D-darling-“

However, you stepped away from them, as you bellowed, “Fuck you both as well!”

Before your parents could say anything, you turned on your heel and ran out of the school in tears, when Steve immediately ran after you, as he called your name.

Meanwhile, Nancy was putting on her seatbelt when she realised that Chrissy was just sitting there, staring blankly at the diary. She placed her hand on her shoulder, startling the cheerleader.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Chrissy shook her head, before asking her, “You know that you used to worked at the Hawkins Post?”

“Well, I interned there, but yes,” Nancy recalled. “Why do you ask?”

Chrissy sighed, before handing Nancy the diary for her to see.

“Do you recognise the handwriting?” Chrissy asked, as Nancy flipped through and read some of the pages. Nancy turned to her and told her that it looked like it was your handwriting, before mentioning, “But…there’s no way that this could be hers. I mean, there’s too many-“

“Spelling mistakes? Not to mention that there are no drawings. Whether it’s a book or just a piece of paper, she always drawing on it.”

Nancy nodded, when Chrissy told her, “I think her sister has something to do with it.” She then told the eldest Wheeler, that Eddie had it in his head that you actually wrote it.

“Seriously?” Nancy asked. “This is why he’s been cold to her?”

Chrissy nodded her head, before telling her, “If we can somehow get something with her handwriting on it, and find the similar mistakes, then maybe…”

“We can prove to Eddie that her sister wrote all of this, making him realise that he made a mistake…”

“And that he picked the wrong sister,” Chrissy triumphantly finished the sentence, before asking, “So, will you help me?”

Nancy smiled as she nodded, before mentioning to her, “But we need to plan this, we can’t just dive right into it-“

Nancy abruptly stopped, as she saw you run through the car park, with Steve chasing you, as he called for you, while she and Chrissy watched.

“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, as you continued to run when Steve caught up to you and pulled you back.

“Hey hey, stop,” Steve said, he turned you around, before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you tight.

You sobbed against his chest, as you hugged him back.

Chrissy looked on, as you and Steve continued to hold each other, as Steve rubbed your back. She then turned to Nancy, who had sadness in her eyes. Taking notice of her expression, Chrissy asked her if she was okay. However, Nancy only gulped, not answering her. After Chrissy turned her head to witness you and Steve pulling away from each other. What the girls, and Steve for that matter, didn’t anticipate was you turning away, running towards Steve’s car, unlocking the door with his car key.

“What the-?” A confused Steve spoke, as he checked the pockets of his jeans, realising that you stole his keys when he hugged you.

“Hey!” He yelled, as he ran towards you, only for you to start the car, and backing it up.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Steve asked, as Chrissy and Nancy got out of her car, and sprinted to him.

“I’ll give it back to you somehow,” you retorted, as you drove out of the car park.

Nancy called Steve’s name, prompting him to turn to her as he scratched his head, while Chrissy chased you, begging you to come back. However, you were too far away for your best friend to be able to follow you.

It had been almost a week since you went missing. Your friends had been putting up posters of you, in the hopes that someone would see you. While Steve and Wayne drove together outside of Hawkins to ask if anyone had seen you, Dustin, along with his long distance girlfriend Suzie, were checking on police reports in case you were spotted. Mike even called the Byers in California, asking them if they could inform him if they see you.

One early evening, Chrissy and Nancy, along with Max visited your family. While Chrissy was trying to comfort your mother while your sister was lying on the couch, filing her nails, Max was on lookout while Nancy was searching your sister’s room for anything with her handwriting on it.

Back downstairs, Chrissy was in the hallway wondering what was taking them so long when she noticed your father, sitting in his office, in tears.

Chrissy lightly knocked on the door, prompting him to look up, and wipe his tears with his sleeve. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, only…” Chrissy began to speak when your father silently shook his head and stood up.

“You haven’t,” he replied, before revealing that he was going through a scrapbook of your achievements.

“Would you like to see them?” He asked. Chrissy smiled politely as she approached his desk. Your father then proceeded to show her the scrapbook, filled with pictures of you and clippings of articles including your swimming competitions, including a picture of you and Chrissy in your freshman year, holding your medal in your hand while she had her arm around you.

Chrissy smiled, thinking about that memory…

It was the first the competition you had won in your high school freshman year.

However, you had no one, other than the coach and your teammates who you hardly knew, congratulating you. While your parents were busy schmoozing with Higgins, and your sister was flirting with some guy from the baseball team, you stood out like a sore thumb when a sweet voice spoke up, “Hi!”

You turned to find the petite strawberry blonde girl in a cheerleader outfit standing in front of you, smiling. You recognised her as your neighbour, but the two of you hadn’t interacted before then. “I just wanted to come over and say congratulations.”

What you didn’t expect was for her to hug you.

After she pulled away, you responded, “Oh…thank you. Chrissy, isn’t it?”

“That’s me,” Chrissy giggled. Suddenly, a photographer from the school paper came over and asked if she could take a picture of you. After giving her permission, you turned to Chrissy and asked if she wanted to be in the picture too.

“Really?” Chrissy asked, before you gestured her to join in the picture, which lead the two of you to become friends…

Back in the present, Chrissy watched your father burst into tears. As she patted his back, she softly told him, “She’ll come back.”

“I hope so,” your father sniffled. “Otherwise I’m a failure as a father.”

Your father wiped his eyes, as Chrissy sympathetically gazed at him when she noticed a yearbook from the Class of ’84.

As she picked it up, your father revealed that he would look through it, wondering what happened to your sister. “I don’t know what I did wrong with her,” he told her. “Maybe I spoiled her for too long, or maybe I didn’t pay her enough attention…”

Chrissy flipped through the pages when she noticed one of the messages had the similar spelling mistakes as the ones in the diary. She scanned down to find that it was signed by Roxy, which baffled Chrissy.

She looked up at your father, before asking him if she could borrow the yearbook.

Without questioning, your father said, “Go ahead.” He then stated that your sister wouldn’t miss it anyway.

She thanked him, before leaving him in peace. As soon as she returned to the hallway, Chrissy quickly stuffed the book in her bag when Nancy and Max came downstairs, confirming that they’ve found some notes from your sister. Chrissy took the notes and put them in her bag when they heard your mother asking your sister, “Honey, can you go over to Forest Hills and give this stew to Wayne?”

“Mum, I’m busy,” your sister retorted, as she was polishing her nails.

“And when are you going to see that boyfriend of yours? Not once have you been to visit him since he was admitted to hospital.”

“There’s no way that I’m going in that diseased ridden place. Eww...” Seeing your sister’s grossed out expression made Chrissy’s blood boil. So you steal him from your sister, but you can’t be bothered to visit him? She thought, as she clenched her fist.

“Well, could you at least give Wayne the stew after you’ve finished with whatever you’re doing?” Your mother asked as politely as possible.

Your sister started to whine when Nancy spoke up, as she approached your mother, “Actually, I have to take Max home, so we can drop it off to Mr Munson for you.”

“Thank you, Nancy,” your mother beamed, as she gave her the dish. “That’s very kind of you.”

Your sister silently mocked her mother, as she continued to polish her nails, while your friends said their goodbyes, before leaving the house.

A few moments later, Nancy, Chrissy and Max were in Max’s trailer, investigating the writings. Chrissy was adamant that your sister was the one who wrote the diary. However, after reading Roxy’s message in the yearbook, she was unsure.

“We definitely need to find more evidence,” Nancy said, as she rearranged the pieces of paper, comparing the different writings.

Max suggested following your sister, so they can seize the opportunity to find Roxy.

“Even if she can lead us to Roxy,” Chrissy responded, as she paced up and down the room. “They’ll both deny it.”

“Well, we need to think of something,” Max said, as Chrissy stopped and stared at a Family Video tape cover on the counter, giving her an idea. “Otherwise, we’ve got no-“

“I’ve got it!” Chrissy interjected, causing the other girls to turn and face her.

“What is it?” Nancy enquired as Chrissy picked up the cover.

“You want us to rent a movie?” Max sarcastically asked.

“No,” Chrissy retorted, before she was about to reveal her idea.

Later on in the evening, Eddie was being escorted by one of the nurses after leaving the patient’s bathroom.

“Do I really need to have someone accompanying me every time I need a piss?” Eddie asked.

“Well someone has to make sure that you don’t pass out or sneak off for a smoke,” the nurse retorted, as she opened the door for him.

“That happened like once,” Eddie scoffed, as he headed to his bed and sat on it.

“Well remember, you’re going home in the next couple of days, so don’t do anything that will hinder your recovery. And make sure that you get some sleep.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Eddie saluted the nurse, making her laugh, before she bid him good night. After she switched off the main light, before closing the door.

Eddie sighed, as he leaned back against the bed. He then looked over to his table, filled with homework brought over by Jeff.

During his stay, the only people who had visited him were his uncle, his bandmates, and Dustin, even though he had been chewing his ear off for the way he treated you.

Not even his so called girlfriend came to see him once or even phoned the hospital to check if he was okay.

Thinking back, he wondered why he got with her in the first place. At first, it was because he was so angry with you that he wanted to get back at you for hurting him. And then, he started enjoying fooling around with your sister.

But as he thought about it, he should’ve handled things better with you, asking you about the contents of the diary instead of jumping the guns and accused you of all sorts. And when he questioned you about the diary, you never asked him where he got it or give it back to you.

What baffled him even more was that you jumped in to save him from Jason’s beatings, even after he told you that you meant nothing to him.

All of a sudden, tears were swelling up in his eyes, thinking about the repercussions of his actions. He deeply sniffed, as he wiped his tears from his eyes.

He shut his eyes for a few moments, trying to get some shut eye when he heard a squeaking sound from outside his room.

He abruptly opened his eyes and scanned the room when he noticed a hooded figure standing outside the door, which freaked him out.

As the hooded figure turned away, Eddie quickly got up from his bed, and paced to the door, opening it. But by the time he got out, the figure had vanished from around the corner. A confused Eddie looked left and right, checking if anyone else was around. However, the hallway was empty.

After he shut the door, he made his way to his bed, as he scratched the back of his neck. After getting back in the bed, he decided to do some homework just so he could fall asleep.

He picked up one of the books when he noticed the diary underneath. He figured that Chrissy must’ve given it to one of the boys to return it to him.

After picking up the diary, he placed the other book on top before examining the cover. He noticed that it was different. It was decorated with drawings of mermaids.

At first, he thought it was someone else’s diary being put there by mistake. However, when he opened it, he recognised your writing, but he noticed that the entries were not the same ones he had seen first time. At first, he thought that it was second diary to throw him off the scent. But then he remembered what Chrissy told him, about how the other diary your sister showed him, how it had many spelling mistakes, as well as lack of drawings. Where as the diary in front of him had all the words spelt correctly, and had drawings on almost every page, including one of him.

Eddie read through the pages, astonished by your creativity, realising that the entries reflected your experiences, including the first time you went to Hellfire on same day you started tutoring him…

The valour bard and his band of brothers were so kind to the mermaid. It had started when the witch asked you to help him in his quest for knowledge. Although the valour bard was having trouble, the mermaid knew that he was trying, and she vowed to help him every step of the way. The night ended with the valour bard telling everyone including the mermaid, tales of another world. She hung on his every word, wishing she could listen to his tales all night…

Eddie lightly chuckled, remembering that he once called you a mermaid due to you being a swimmer. He flipped through another page and found another entry, accompanied with a drawing of Eddie playing his guitar…

The mermaid heard music playing from the shore. As she swam over to the island, she saw the bard and his friends playing their instruments. Although there were locals on the shore, none of them were listening. The mermaid thought it was their loss, missing out on talent. As she watched the performance, the mermaid was fixated on the valour bard. His musical skills, his voice…to her, he was like an angel…

Eddie heaved, reading your entries, as he remembered the first time you watched the band at the Hideout, and the way you gazed at him with admiration.

He carried on flipping through the pages, filled with more drawings of him, as well as Chrissy, Steve, and even Wayne. He had let out a small chuckle, admiring your talent, before reading the next entry, which looked like it was written during the period when you were at training camp…

The mermaid had to return to the deep sea for a gathering of her fellow merfolk. And although she enjoyed spending time with her own kind, she missed the valour bard and his songs, as well as his tales. She started counting the days until she reunited with him…

Eddie continued turning the pages with tears brimming in his eyes when he stopped to read the next few recent entries, questioning the bard’s recent terrible treatment towards the mermaid, how he may have been seduced by the succubus.

He sniffled, as he flipped to the last entry…

Banishment…that was the price the mermaid paid for defending the valour bard from the evil captain and his soldiers. She could’ve had left him to be slaughtered, but what would’ve she had gained? She instead fought to protect the man who she knew could never feel anything for her…

Tears ran down his cheeks, regretting his last conversation with you. He was about to close the diary when he noticed that there was an envelope in between the last page and the back cover.

He took it out and opened it, taking out a letter addressed to him, before reading aloud…

Dear Eddie,

I know that I’m the last person you want to hear from. But you don’t need to worry, because by the time you read this, I’ll be long gone.

I know you said that I don’t mean anything to you anymore, but you meant something to me, even if you don’t believe me. You’re probably wondering why you have my actual diary. You see, after seeing you being Dungeon Master, I was inspired to write and draw, hoping that I can tell amazing stories like you. But I guess it doesn’t make a difference, seeing as you’re with my sister.

If you and her hadn’t been treating me like shit, I wouldn’t have minded that you were together, even though it would not only break my heart, but it would also make me suspicious, as you may have forgotten, she wasn’t always been nice to you…

Thinking back, Eddie remembered how your sister had interacted with him, how she used to make snide remarks about him, and how you used to stick up for him.

He cleared his throat, as he continued to read…

But after you showed me that other diary, it made me wonder if she had anything to do with it, like she wanted payback for some reason.

I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I cannot stay somewhere where I’m not welcome nor can I be somewhere where no one’s on my side, especially after my fight with Carver. I maybe back some day, not sure when. But for now, I need to keep my distance.

Just promise me one thing, Eddie… Don’t fuck things up for yourself and your chance of graduating. It would be a shame for your hard work to go to waste.

All the best, Love…

Eddie whispered your name, as tears fell down from his eyes, staining the letter.

He scrunched the letter against his chest, as he leaned forward, bawling his eyes out, repeating, “I’m sorry…”

Meanwhile, outside the hospital, the hooded figure stared up at the window, before getting inside Steve’s BMW, moving the hood back, revealing your face.

As you started the car, you whispered, “Goodbye…”

You then backed out, before driving off to your destination.

Next

[miikapie]

Your boyfriend Choso gives you scary dog privileges!!

wc:..1k!

cw:.. Choso x fem!reader, reader gets harassed by a creep at the bar:(, bad grammar as always. this is literally just me barfing up an idea because i love the idea of choso protecting reader from weirdos!!

Along with his resting bitch face, his tall stature makes strangers shiver. Whether that be in a bar, out on a nighttime walk, or in the city. Aslong as Choso is not even two paces away from you you're practically untouchable!

Its amazing, ofcourse, he keeps away weirdos with just a glare, sending them running in the opposite direction. You think that's fantastic obviously!! You'll have no need to invest in self defense classes when Choso is around you 24/7! Well, he can't be around you all the time...

You were sat on the high stool of the bar, waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the bathroom. Specifically he placed his black bomber jacket on the seat beside you to silently let it be known to anyone who even thought of approaching you that there was already someone sitting there.

You sat twirling the cocktail drink with the little paper umbrella your bartender had given to you in the meantime while you wait for your lovely boyfriend to return.

It was a rare night for you both. Usually, nights like this were spent on the couch together, while you scratched his scalp softly like a (not so) little puppy. Well, he was your puppy afterall!!

As you sat daydreaming innocently about your sweet boyfriend to distract yourself from the bustling atmosphere of the bar, a particularly tragic attempt at a suave voice made itself known beside you.

"Hello, cutie~" A waft of alcohol hit your face like a brick, originating where the voice came from.

It was a drunk guy, leaning on the table beside you. His eyes hung low, shamelessly checking you out, and his hair was a greasy bird's-nest. You almost gagged at how fucking badly he smelled.

"What're you doin' here all by yourself?" He slurred, a burp following suit as he moved closer to you. "Shouldn't a woman like you be in my bed? hmmmm?" And jesus fucking christ, you wished your boyfriend would hurry up in that damn washroom.

"I uh.. im here with my boyfriend." You reply with a deadpan, slightly leaning away from the man who was inches away from your face.

"What boyfriend, baby?" He cackled "I don't see no man with you..hmmmm?" And you swear you could puke just from how putrid his breath was.

His filthy hands come in contact with a lock of your hair, and he inched impossibly closer to you, whispering. "Me, you, my bed, tonight. How does that sound?"

"No. I- Choso, there you are!" You smiled, catching eyes of your boyfriend making his way through the crowds that separated like the red sea infront of him- some people marvelling at how intimidating he was, and some cowering.

A small smile resonated on his features before he caught eyes of the creep right beside you. He saw the nervousness in your eyes and knew immediately that you did not know this guy.

The smile dropped immediately, as he locked eyes with the creep beside you.

He stood just a foot away from the stranger, as he let go of your hair and stared up at your-quite frankly-terrifying boyfriend, gulping audibly. You saw a drop of sweat fall down his forehead.

"Thats my seat." His voice, usually softer in tone, dropped an octave as he subconsciously grit his teeth infront of the man. You watched along like a giddy child on christmas day opening their gifts.

"...i-"

"Beside my girlfriend." He stated plainly, venom laced through his words. Now you could see why strangers cowered under the gaze of your other half.

The creep could quite obviously be seen scrambling around his empty head for an explanation to your boyfriend. You held back a snicker and took a gulp of your drink.

"Get out of here. Never approach her again." Shaking his head, your boyfriends eyebrows furrowed.

The man nodded haphazardly and scuffled swiftly away into the dense crowd to get far, far away from Choso. After his sharp eyes followed the man making his way out of the bar, he finally sat beside you awkwardly. You couldn't stifle the giggle in your throat any longer and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

He looked down to you, a small sigh leaves his lips.

"Im s-"

"Choso, dont apologize" Predicting exactly what he was gonna say. choso was a softie at heart, and knowing him, you knew he was gonna blame it on himself- even though he wasn't there.

"But I wasn't there, so its my fault." aaand there he goes! You roll your eyes in response with a smile, classic Choso.

"Its not your fault, Cho. I promise you. I could feel someone was eyeing me up for a while, I guess he was just waiting for you to leave."

Your eyes met his, and he looked a little bashful. he always looked bashful when your eyes met.

"Hes a scumbag." He spat quietly, looking away from you. A laugh erupted from your chest, making him smile. You always made him smile. Your manicured hand rested beside his on the wooden table.

His shoulders slumped a little and he nodded. It seems you guys wont be going to the bar anytime soon, instead opting to spend now 100% of your nights curled up on the couch together, where no creeps could harass you!

"Al..alright then, i believe you." Were the words that leaves his lips, his larger pinky finger wrapping around yours for mutual comfort.

Fascinating, really, how your boyfriend barely has to say a couple of words and hes sent a creep running out of the door. If only everyone knew him like you did- for what he really was.

It doesnt bother him at all, actually. he likes it. He finds a sense of pride in it, being able to protect you from any unwanted attention without having to lift a finger. He feels content devoting himself to loving and protecting you.

And if he had a say in it, he'd continue doing both for forever, for you.♡

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 48 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 47 | lesson 48.2 | lesson 49.1 | lesson 49.2

before reading this...i feel like shit is about to hit the fan idk. the last part of the science fair can't be all sunshine and roses

...

SIGH

my brother in christ the lesson JUST STARTED 🧍🏾

maybe it's the remnants of simeon's angelic nature clashing with the magic solomon used on him. everyone says that solomon is slowly losing what's left of his humanity bc of how long he's been alive, along with the fact that that he went to cocytus and came back alive

or maybe i'm just yapping

simeon: *whatever tf just happened*

luci: mc, i need to talk to you

mc: omg i love you too babe 🫶🏽

like ?? 😭 mc is hilarious i fear

IS HE A DEMON NOW ????? i wanna say i'm surprised but i'm not. i just wonder how the story's gonna play out if they go that route

more on this here

luci trusting satan's judgment bc he's one of the most trustworthy of his brothers and the most similar to him

:((((

but also luci??? HELLO??? whore behavior we love to see it 😌 give me more

but also maybe not bc what if he copes with his negative emotion through sex ??? the whole family needs therapy

the siblings ever. i love them

this is so interesting to me

i wanna ask how the rest of them didn't figure it out sooner, but they all probably went into "protective brother" mode as soon as they realized he didn't have his angelic powers to protect himself anymore. solomon didn't have those kinds of ties to simeon, so he was able to act on and use logic in a more effective way than the brothers would be able to, figuring out that something was wrong before anyone else

solomon assuming that simeon is oblivious to what's going on though? i feel like he's too smart for that to be true. if anything, he's probably either DEEP in denial, too stubborn to bring it up hc he doesn't wanna worry anyone, or mentally wrestling with the fact that he finally got what he wanted - to be with the brothers in the devildom after their fall - but at the cost of his identity

i know i'm reading too far into this, but do the boys really think that lowly of demons (themselves)?

like yes, some demons of lower and higher stature are the absolute worst people you'll ever encounter, but the brothers and diavolo and barbatos and probably numerous other demons are proof that you aren't defined by your physiology or designation or identity or anything like that

some angels act worse than the lowest of demons do, but they're still angels. being a certain race doesn't determine your personality or moral standing, it's who you are as a person

ngl idk what to make of this yet, but i feel like it's important. foreshadowing even. so i'm keeping it here

baby no :( he's doing it to protect you

i love and hate the way simeon is so protective of luke. on one hand, that's basically his son, so i get wanting to shield him from the worst parts of the world and the worst parts of yourself

but on the other, luke is his own person, too. adults tend to forget that kids don't exist as an extension of themselves, but as people trying to find their place in the world. they aren't as naive and are way smarter than most people give them credit for

luke not voicing his concern is a result of and will continue to result in simeon shutting him out under the guise of protecting him, when in reality it's only putting more of a strain on their relationship

ngl i AUDIBLY laughed at that first part bc what 😭

also why would they cut the lesson off here ??? obey me devs when i catch you

i'm honestly so happy the sf arc shifted to something else bc i was getting tired of the happy shit. give me ANGST /lh /hj

[mykneeshurt]

Absolution

Image from wallpaper flare

Priest! Simon Riley x F! reader AU

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, religious themes, if you're interested in going to heaven this ain't the fic for you, this is incredibly blasphemous so if your easily offended by religious themes being used DNI

100% inspired by @dotcie - you let all your love rot inside you

Thank you to @luminousbeings-crudematter for encouraging this and helping me with multiple ideas and beta reading it for me!

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

The church was dark, the late evening sun shone through the stained-glass window above the altar. Hues of blue, red, green and purple descended into the empty church. Candles lined the walls, each mounted by a gold baroque style holder. The flames flickered as the warm summer air kissed them gently.    Stone arches adorned the walls, each one intricately designed with faces of angels and demons. You walked along the aisle touching each of the pews with your fingertips, the wood was stained a deep walnut colour. Each seat perfectly imperfect, littered with the scars of the congregation who graced their presence. 

Your eyes roamed along the paintings of different bible passages, all hung delicately along the sandstone walls. Each painting an abyss of pain and torment, each brush stroke a testament to the sheer emotion the artist must have felt. 
 
As you reached the altar you once again questioned why you were here. You sunk to your knees seeking sanctuary, the maroon carpet offering some comfort to your aching joints. The weight of what you’d done pressed heavily on your heart. So much so silent tears fell, staining the carpet beneath you. 
 
‘Are you ok?’ A voice from behind you asked, it was gentle and calm. Gasping you spun around, stood before was a shadow of a man. He was tall, his broad physique clearly visible through the shadows. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here’ you stammered, your breath catching in your chest. 
 
He stepped forward out of the shadows and into the light. As the sun rays illuminated him before you his divine beauty was slowly revealed. His jaw was sharp, his lips plump and soft with a small scar cutting through them. His hair was a sandy colour which was swept away from his face, bar a few strands which hung lazily on his forehead. He wore all black, his sleeves rolled up revealing a tattoo on his forearm. 
 
You stayed kneeling, feeling unable to move, unable speak. He stood before you extending his hand to cup your chin, his touch was merciful, soft, all consuming. Slowly he caressed your cheek, his thumb wiping away the solitary tear that stained your skin. His gaze pierced through you, eyes dark and possessive, a foreboding presence lurking in the void. 
 
‘Tell me what’s bothering you?’ He asked, voice calm but thicker than molasses. You tried to find the words, tried to articulate the feelings deep within you, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘Use your words’ he cooed, still cupping your jaw. All moisture suddenly evaporated from your mouth as you opened your lips to speak. ‘I … I did something bad’ you stammered. 
 
‘Is it forgiveness you seek?’ 
‘Yes Father’ your voice all but a whisper, yet still echoing in the empty church. He hummed to himself, dropping his gaze to your lips. ‘Stay’ he ordered as he removed his hand, a silent whimper falling from your lips as your cheek cooled from his touch. 
 
He walked to the alter and despite his muscular stature he moved almost silently. Like a ghost. As he turned back to you, he held the Ciborium in his hands, the emerald colour contrasting perfectly against his porcelain skin. Towering over you he pulled the host from the cup ‘I have a passage I’d like you to read, but first, take the body of Christ.’ 
 
Holding out your hand you waited for him to place it in your hands, except he didn’t. ‘Open’ he said forcefully. Lowering your hand, you opened your mouth sticking out your tongue. A small smirk tugged at your lips as he placed the thin wafer onto it. The host slowly dissolved on the heat of your tongue, as did any remaining sanity. He pulled your lower lip with his thumb ‘good.’ 
 
He motioned for you to follow him to the lectern, a black bible with gold rimmed pages sat unassumingly on the shelf. Placing you in front of him he bent you over slightly, your body completely pliable in his hands. He gently skimmed the pages with his fingers, the tattoo now fully visible. Veins kissed the surface of his skin as the defined muscles danced with every movement. 

Finally he stopped on the page he was looking for: Proverbs 28:13. His face was dangerously close to yours, so much so you could see the texture of his skin. A small amount of stubble littered his skin as his breath fanned over your neck. Lowering his lips to your ear he whispered ‘read, and no matter what don’t stop.’ His words vibrated down your spine straight to your aching pussy, taking a deep breath you began to read

‘Whoever conceals their sins …' his hand slipped to your lower back, but his eyes were fixed firmly on the text in front of you.

Gulping you tried to continue ‘... does not prosper …' his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, causing you to buck your hips slightly.

‘... but the one who confesses …' a whine exuded from the back of your throat, guttural and desperate.  ‘Shhh, keep going’ he whispered in your ear. Swallowing hard you tried again.  

‘… and renounces them …’ his fingers slipped past the hem of your panties, the sudden contact made you jump, you bit your lip trying to stifle a moan. ‘Good girl, keep going.’   ‘ … finds mercy.’ As the last word slipped past your lips, he sunk his finger into your wet cunt causing you to lurch forward onto the lectern, gripping the sides for balance. ‘Read it again’ he ordered. Taking a deep breath, you did as you were told, sounding out each word, each syllable laced with desire and pleasure. He slowly added another finger, stretching your pussy with his girth. Your whine rang out in the desolate church, ricocheting off the sandstone walls as he pumped his fingers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, once wet with your tears it was now wet with your arousal.  

Soon enough you were tripping over your words, a stuttering mess under his touch. With his free hand he wrapped it around your throat pulling you close to him, his fingers still orchestrating a flurry of moans from you. You were completely lost in him, your jaw slack as whimpers and gasps seeped from your very soul. You were so lost in fact you didn’t even realise he’d manoeuvred you towards the altar, the cool granite kissed your skin as he pressed you against it.  

Removing his fingers, he placed them on his tongue savouring your arousal, his gaze once again found yours ‘fuckin sinful’ he growled. Using his muscular arms, he trapped you against the altar the warmth of his skin seeping into yours like a virus. Reaching behind you he grabbed the gold chalice and took a sip of the wine, never once breaking eye contact with you. Gripping your chin, he tilted it, so you were looking directly up at him, slowly he placed his lips against yours allowing the wine to trickle into your mouth. A single drop trickled down your neck, his tongue was soon pressed against your skin lapping it up.  

You pulled him by his shirt collar into another kiss, it was velocious and messy. He gripped at your thighs pulling you up onto the altar, tilting you backwards the wine fell causing the once pristine white cotton to turn red with your sins. He nipped at your collar bone as he raked his nails along your skin, moaning into his mouth it was too much but not enough all the same time. He kissed along your torso and onto your abdomen, his lips teased the sliver of skin which poked out between your top and skirt. Goosebumps trickled along your skin as he bit the sensitive skin.  

Pulling at his hair you silently begged him to continue, silently pleading with him to taste you. Keeping his eyes on yours he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, he ripped your panties at the seam and placed his lips onto your weeping cunt. The sudden intrusion caused you to arch your back and moan into oblivion. His eyes pierced yours as he moved his tongue in languid motions, each swipe pulling another whimper from your chest. You gripped his hair digging your nails into his scalp, God rays cascaded around you encapsulating you both in this moment of pure sin. As the priest looked up you could have sworn it was Lucifer himself staring right back at you.  

‘Fuck … don’t stop’ you whined, finally finding words to use, finally finding your voice. Kissing his way back up your body he hovered over you for a moment, his stare intense and dominating. ‘Simon’ he muttered. You hummed, not quite catching what he said. ‘My name … Simon’ he repeated, edging closer to your lips once more. Pulling your lips open he allowed a dribble of saliva to drop into your mouth, instinctively you swallowed allowing the ribbon of spilt to glide down your throat.  

‘Please fuck me Simon’ you said as you placed your lips on his once more. Pulling away he unbuckled his trousers allowing his cock to spring free. Still staring at you intently he began to pump his hard cock ‘allow me this and I shall absolve you of all your sins.’ You could hear how breathless he was behind his stoic demeanour, a man on the edge of losing control.  

‘Yes Father, please.’  

Slowly he pushed into you, once again stretching your cunt, the sting was delicious. You both gasped as he filled you to the brim, bottoming out in one swift motion. He placed his forearms next to your head as strands of hair fell forward framing his face perfectly. The sun had moved slightly causing the coloured glass to reflect onto your bodies as you became one. He kissed you again, except this time you bit his lip causing it to bleed, ‘hmm, the blood of Christ’ you said smirking. Lowering his head to your neck he smiled into your skin ‘Amen.’  

He began to move his hips back and forth, caressing the sweet spot within you. The sound of skin on skin reverberated in the church, filling the once silent, once holy place with the sin of lust. Placing his hand around your throat he hissed through his teeth ‘beg me for forgiveness, for I will be your absolution.’ Tears stung the corners of your eyes as he fucked you on the altar, each thrust took you to a new level of pleasure. You ran your nails along his shirt, desperately trying to imagine what his skin felt like.  ‘Please, forgive me’ you whined as you rolled your hips into him ‘please father … please.’  

Upping his pace, he held onto your hips as he dug his fingertips into your flesh. Small grunts and breathless whimpers filled the space between you as he allowed himself to give into his primal desires. Rolling his hips, he dragged his cock against your cunt making you feel every movement, every thrust, every inch of him. Pulling your hand off his back he placed it on your clit ‘show me’ he murmured ‘show me how you like it.’ Feeling yourself instantly tighten you began to play with your clit, you watched as he dropped his eyes to watch the show you were putting on for him, his mouth opening slightly before biting his lip.   

Your breath began to catch in your throat as you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, as your eyes rolled you caught sight of Mary looking down on you, watching you getting fucked within an inch of your life on the once pure altar. Wrapping your legs around him you pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go.  ‘Faster’ you begged, ‘harder Father please.’ He let out a slight chuckle of disbelief, once again placing his hand around your throat ‘you’re insatiable.’ Biting your lip you giggled, but that giggle was soon replaced with a broken guttural moan as he slammed his hips into yours. This was enough to push you into the blinding light of your orgasm, your back arched off the wine-stained cloth as you came around his cock. Shockwaves of pleasure shot through every fiber of your body as rode out your high.  

As the white noise from your orgasm finally dissipated your eyes met with his, his gaze was piercing, all knowing and consuming. His pace became sloppy, knowing he was close you sat up and pushed him away. Turning him round so his back was now against the altar you dropped to your knees, staring up at him like you did mere moments ago. You placed his cock on your tongue as the sweet bitterness of your combined arousal seeped over your tongue, ready to receive him. He looked down on you blocking out the sun, the light giving the illusion of a halo around him, but you knew when you were looking the devil in the face.  

Slowly you took his cock to the back of your throat, the change in sensation causing him to throw his head back and hiss. He cradled the back of your head as you bobbed back and forth, humming a hymn softly to yourself, praising the man before you. The humming caused vibrations to travel down his thick cock adding a whole new layer of pleasure to this already wicked act. He became breathless as you worked his cock in your mouth, you could feel the change in him as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. ‘Yes’, he whispered softly, repeating it like a prayer. Looking up at him you pleased with him to let go, to finish what he’d started.  

And that he did. You kept looking up at him as he came in your mouth, doe like eyes eager to please the man in front of you. His mouth was parted slightly as ragged breaths fell from his lips; he caressed your jaw as you swallowed. His touch just as soft and possessive as before.  

-----------

LMAO see you in hell x

@cowyolks @strlingsav @ave661 @glitterypirateduck @soapyghost        

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 10

[Master List]

The coffee shop was one he’d been to before, though Jason wasn’t much of a coffee drinker. It had grown a lot in popularity recently and Jason vaguely remembered Tim saying something about coming here regularly. Putting in his order (a redeye- which was a normal amount of caffeine to drink Tim), Jason found a booth in the corner and sat down.

He was a bit early so he’d have to wait for Danny. He’d been surprised when he hadn’t gotten a text canceling their meeting after the night Danny and Miguel had had. Jason had almost texted Danny with an excuse to cancel just to make sure the man wasn’t pushing himself too hard but that felt a bit ridiculous.

Danny was a grown man, he could take care of himself just fine. If he didn’t want to cancel, he didn’t have to cancel.

Jason sipped his coffee and watched the entrance out of the corner of his eye. Danny arrived a couple of minutes late, his hair was sticking up in multiple directions like he’d just rolled out of bed, his shirt was inside out, and his jeans were wrinkled. Had he just woken up? 

Eyes landing on Jason, the man made his way to the table with a smile. “Sorry I’m late, I’m gonna grab a coffee and then I’ll join you.”

The barista at the front counter greeted him by name and they started chatting. Did they know each other? Was Danny a regular here as well? He waited for the man’s drink to be made (holy shit how many shots of espresso did they just put into his drink? That had to be a mistake) and thought about what he knew about the man.

He was somehow incredibly strong for his small build and short stature, probably a meta with super strength given his accidental murder of the Joker and easy take down of almost twenty-five men the night before- which. Jesus christ. Jason had learned some things about himself recently. Namely that he liked twinks who could easily pin him down or throw him around. 

Shaking his head, he dismissed those thoughts. Now was so not the time or place.

Danny ran a daycare and seemed to genuinely care about the kids he took care of, he’d taken in two street kids and was helping get them into school again, when Jason insinuated the kids weren’t worth the effort Danny almost snapped his head off, and the man went berserk when someone threatened ‘his’ kid last night.

He and his sister, Jazz Nightingale, had no other known family and their history was locked down behind an encrypted wall neither Tim nor Barbie were able to get through. Which was suspicious but… Jason hadn’t really cared much. He only knew Tim was looking into Danny because of last night.

Tim had blown up a bit when he realized Red Hood and Danny had met on a few occasions. Jason couldn’t exactly explain how they’d met and had instead dodged all of his questions before ditching him and the rest of the bats to go home and implode.

Why implode? Because Danny taking down a bunch of goons that had hurt his kid without holding back (once he’d learned they were child traffickers) was probably the hottest thing he’d seen since the very same guy killed Jason’s murderer. So. Yeah. He’d gone home and had a bit of a crisis thinking about how in under twelve hours he was supposed to meet with the guy to discuss tutoring ‘his kids’.

“Sorry about that.” Danny said, taking the seat across from Jason and startling him out of his thoughts. “Long night. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

Jason shrugged. “I like to be early if I can help it so it’s not really your fault I waited.”

He grinned and Jason decided he was a big fan of Danny’s smile. “So you’re good at English?” 

Snorting, Jason nodded. “It was one of the only things I was good at in school.”

“It was my worst subject. My high school English teacher had it out for me- though,” Danny blushed and Jason forced himself to continue eye contact instead of noting how pink his cheeks had grown. “I did fall asleep in his class most days.”

“Looks like not getting enough sleep didn’t stop after high school.” Jason noted. The man had bags under his eyes that rivaled Tim’s. And ever since Tim and Conner got together he’d been sleeping a bit more- mostly because Connor made him, but still. 

Danny groaned and took a swig of his coffee. “There’s a reason my drink has seven shots in it. You know how much time running a daycare, taking care of two teenage boys, and helping my sister get her GED takes up? Talk about burning the candle at both ends. I might as well have thrown the candle into the fire.” He chuckled as if what he’d just said wasn’t insanely worrying.

Also, Jason was pretty sure Danny’s sister was already attending college- why would he be helping her get her GED if that were the case? 

“So what I’m hearing is, you’re desperate for someone to help?” Danny nodded reluctantly. “Well, I thrived in English throughout high school and still read regularly, but you should know, I never finished high school or got my GED. So, technically, I don’t have any qualifications.”

Why the hell did he say that? He could have forged qualifications if he needed to! What if Danny didn’t want somebody who’d never even graduated to teach his kids! What was he thinking-

“That doesn’t really matter to me. I almost didn’t graduate high school.” Oh? “And like I said, my younger sister is working on her GED at the moment. We’re both plenty smart, a degree doesn’t determine someone’s intelligence, just their situation.” Younger sister? Wasn’t Jazz older than him?

“That’s… good to hear.” Jason admitted.

Danny finished his drink- what the fuck was with this guy? “Do you mind me asking why you didn’t finish school? You don’t have to answer, just curious honestly.” 

Make up a lie- “I died.”

What the ever-loving fuck Jason Todd? Aren’t you supposed to be good at keeping secrets? Fucking fuck- not only will Danny not believe him, but he’ll probably rescind his offer of hiring Jason- which- well, he didn’t need the money. He just wanted the opportunity to get to know the guy. But with a mouth as big as his it’s a shock he’s hidden his secret identity as long as he has-

“Oh.” Danny furrowed his brows and stared at Jason seriously. “Okay, yeah, same.”

Wait- What? Did Danny think he was making a joke? But he seemed serious still, something about the way he was looking at Jason was different from before, like he understood, like he meant it when he said ‘same’. “...Same..?” Jason asked, cautiously.

Clearing his throat, Danny looked away. “Yeah. Although, dying wasn’t what almost stopped me from graduating,” he chuckled. “That was more…. Everything else going on. But, uh, yeah- weird conversation to have with someone I don’t really know but-”

“You’re saying you died? Like actually died?” Jason cut in, still not believing what he was hearing. There was literally nothing about Daniel Nightingale online, no records he’d been able to find since he’d first found him a month ago- shouldn’t there be hospital records if he died?

“Yeah, look, I don’t like to talk about it much but yes. I understand. I,” He hesitated, nervously picking at the skin around his fingernails while speaking. “I died. Fully dead, came back… wrong. Different. So I’m not too worried about whether you graduated or not, as long as you can teach the subject.”

Right. The reason they were both here. Not whatever the hell else that was just now (which Jason was one thousand percent looking into when he got home today). “What are you thinking?”

“I suck at everything English except speaking it. The boys need to learn about grammar, how to read and analyze something, how to write papers, essays, etc.” Danny stopped picking at his fingers. “They’ve been out of school for three years now so they have a lot to catch up on. Not only that, Miguel will be going into his senior year and Santiago will be starting freshman year.”

Jason nodded along. “Yeah I can teach all of that. I’ve helped a few of my younger siblings throughout the years, none of them are really great at the subject.”

��I’d obviously pay you. There’s two of them and I’m asking a lot, so name a price and I’ll make it happen.”

“Name a price?” Jason repeated. “You sure about that, doll?” He smirked at Danny’s surprised look. “I could be some schmuck down on his luck trying to take advantage of you right now and you say ‘name a price’?”

Shrugging, Danny rubbed his temple. Did he have a headache? “I mean, you probably couldn’t name a price I couldn’t meet but I guess, hows $150 an hour sound? Wait- should I double it because there’s two of them?” He looked at the ceiling contemplatively while Jason stared in shock. “Okay yeah, $300 an hour good?”

“That’s… way more than necessary.” Jason managed, taken completely off guard.

Danny, who seemed to get some confidence from Jason’s shocked state, leaned forward and smirked. “I can go higher if you’d like, darling. $500 an hour? $750?” He’d lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow. “Ah hell, might as well make it a solid $1,000, I am asking a lot of you, huh sweetheart?”

Where. Had. That. Come. From?

All Jason could think about was how incredibly sexy that confidence was. Jason swallowed, Danny’s eyes followed the action, slowly trailing back up his face and- had Jason imagined the way the man’s eyes paused over his lips? Had the cafe always been this warm? “$150 is plenty.” Jason finally managed.

Leaning back and returning to his former air of laid back and slightly frazzled, Danny smiled. “Sounds good! We usually work in the evenings and weekends, what days and times work for you?”

“Any time on Saturdays is fine, any time after twelve on Sunday’s is fine,” Alfred always gave him the disappointed look when Jason missed a brunch these days. “And week nights… I could probably do seven to nine? Not sure how often you need me to work with them though.”

Danny nodded, thoughtfully. “Two or three times a week would be good. The boys don’t have a lot to entertain them at the moment so they’re trying to get a bunch of the school stuff out of the way. The latest entrance exam for Gotham Academy is the first week of August so they have almost two months but well- that’s not much time. We’re trying to expedite it as much as possible.”

“What if they don’t get in?” Jason asked.

“Then I’ll homeschool them.” Danny shrugged. “I want them to get into Gotham Academy for the social aspects and-” he paused, looking at Jason seriously. “And because I want them to prove to themselves that they’re capable of it. They don’t think they can get in, but I know they can.”

Jason wondered what it would have been like, to have someone believe in him that much when he was younger. Bruce had… he’d done his best, and sometimes Jason thought if there had never been Batman, never been Robin, things would have probably been completely different. If even a fraction of Gotham cared about others the way Danny did, it would change completely.

“They’ll get into Gotham Academy, we’ll make sure of it.”

~~~

Who. The Fuck. Was Dani Nightingale?

Tim had been looking into Danny Nightingale for months- learning everything he could about the man and his past which was, admittedly, not a lot, but he knew a few things. Daniel Nightingale had a bachelor’s in bio chemistry, he was super wealthy, he liked helping people, and he had one sister. ONE. Jasmine (Jazz) Nightingale, a student at Gotham U and intern at Arkham Asylum. 

So why was there suddenly evidence of a second sister, one younger than Danny, whose name was ALSO Danny but with an ‘i’? Where did she come from? Who was she? Why did she look so much like Danny but neither looked like Jazz? 

And another thing? Why was the only thing proving her existence, a social security number, birth certificate, and driver’s license? Where were the social media posts? The email accounts? Literally anything?! She hadn’t existed yesterday, and today- BAM! She’s a whole real person! 

“Tim, I think it’s time for bed.” Connor suggested.

Shaking his head, Tim continued to stare at the exact same information he’d spent the last forty minutes staring at. “I don’t need sleep, I need answers.”

“I will drag you to bed.”

“Kon-”

“Nope, too slow.” Connor grabbed him around the waist and dragged him out of the cave to get his first proper night of sleep in almost a week.

~~~

The meeting with Jason had gone well and they’d settled on him coming over to tutor the boys on Monday’s, Wednesday’s, and Saturdays every week. The boys had asked him how it’d gone when he got home and he tried not to remember the way Jason had called him ‘doll’ or how Danny had snapped back, calling him ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ and checking him out the entire time- what the fuck Danny? The man was looking for a job and Danny had openly checked him out and clearly made him uncomfortable- Jason probably called lots of people doll- it wasn’t flirtatious.

So no. He hadn’t told the boys much about the meeting. Just that Jason would be helping with English from here on out. They’d also talked about Miguel’s outburst. The boy had tried to apologize but Danny wasn’t having it. Everything the boys were doing was hard, and he knew that; they didn’t deserve to feel guilt over getting emotional through the hard days.

The difficult stuff was for Danny to shoulder.

They had pancakes for dinner and the boys spent the night in his place again. Miguel was clearly quite shaken by what had happened but wasn’t ready to discuss it. Life had gotten in the way recently, but he’d promised Miguel a cat, and he thought the kid might need it now more than ever.

Nightingale: Hey, would you be willing to teach a friend of mine about cats? 

Nightingale: … You changed my name again.

Dami: It is your name.

Dami: …You changed my name again.

‘Nightingale’ has changed ‘Nightingale’s’ name to ‘Danny’

‘Dami’ has changed ‘Dami’s’ name to ‘Damian’

Danny: Anyways- will you? I can pay you if you want

Damian: I do not need financial compensation. When were you hoping I could teach your friend?

Danny: As soon as possible? He’s had a rough couple of days and I think the cat will help him. He’s already shown a lot of responsibility towards them.

Damian: This is acceptable. Tomorrow after noon I am free.

Danny: You can come by anytime after noon! Thanks Dami!

Damian: I did not give you permission to call me that, Nightingale.

Danny: I didn’t give you permission to call me that, Dami.

Damian: Touche. 

It seemed they were at a stalemate. The boy didn’t text him back after that which was fine, he’d be coming over tomorrow and Danny could tease him then. Shooting a text to Damian with his home address, Danny paused. Had he ever texted Tim? 

Shit. He was such a bad friend. How long ago had that been anyways? A month? Ancients fuck- Putting in the number he’d hastily typed into an empty memo on his phone, Danny shot out a text.

Danny: Hey Tim, it’s Danny. Sorry it took so long to message, things have been crazy.

He hadn’t seen Tim at the coffee shop since the last time- he didn’t really have the time to go anymore- and wasn’t even sure if Tim really wanted to be his friend or had given Danny his number out of boredom or something. Although, didn’t he say he didn’t get much free time? Plus, it was kind of rude to have waited so long to text.

Collapsing into the couch with a sigh, Danny decided to stop overthinking things (easier said than done) and go to sleep intentionally for once. He’d just closed his eyes when he heard the sound of a window sliding open. Whoever thought it was a good idea to break into the ghost king’s apartment especially after one of his kids was kidnapped was crazy. Before he could get too angry he was met by the sight of Red Hood squeezing through the window with a plastic bag in one hand.

“Wh- you know what, I’m not gonna ask.” Danny rubbed a hand across his eyes.

Red Hood looked startled when he realized Danny was there. It’s his apartment, why wouldn’t Danny be there? “Uh, sorry, you’re usually not here when I bring food.”

“Usually not where? In my own apartment? In the apartment building that I own?” Danny snarked. “Sorry, that was rude.” He stood up feeling the blood rush to his head quickly. “To what do I owe the-” 

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened. One second he was looking at Hood while approaching him, he blinked, and then he was looking up at Hood. They were also much closer than they’d ever been aside from the time the vigilante had taken him home via grappling hook.

Blinking hard, Danny pulled away. “What just happened?”

“You blacked out. Are you okay?”

Danny rubbed the back of his head which usually hurt after his power naps but felt completely fine at the moment. “Yeah,” he sighed, pushing himself to stand up despite Hood’s attempted protest. “Just my body trying to take a power nap. Anyways, thanks for the food- you really don’t have to keep doing that.”

“I want to.” Hood said almost automatically. “What the hell do you mean by power nap? That was a fainting spell if I’ve ever seen one- and believe me, I have.”

Finding a place for the food in the fridge was easy considering Danny hadn’t exactly had time to go to the grocery store in the last few days. “You know- a power nap? When your body tries to overpower you into napping? Happens a lot.”

“Danny- what the- that is NOT normal- you should see a doctor or-”

“Awwww.” Danny chuckled. “The Red Hood is worried for me?” He teased.

The vigilante went silent for a moment, staring at Danny like he was an idiot. “Yes! Jesus fucking Christ man, passing out is not normal and you should most certainly see a doctor about it!”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

Red Hood put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. It was kind of adorable how put-off he seemed. “It’s not fine. How long has this been going on?”

Danny pretended to think about it. He didn’t have to. He knew the exact date he’d started having this issue. He wasn’t keen on telling the Red Hood that he was a baby who couldn’t handle a little murder. “I dunno- a while.”

“Give me an estimate.” Hood countered.

“How long’s it been since we met?” Danny asked (as if he didn’t have the date memorized or hadn’t recounted the events that led to him being casually acquainted with his favorite vigilante). “About that long. You know- after I killed someone?”

Hood froze, his body tense in a way Danny hadn’t personally seen before. “Oh.”

“Yeah oh.” Danny scoffed, closing the fridge and leaning against the counter for support. “Look, the Joker deserved to die and I don’t regret killing him. I couldn’t sleep for a couple of days because of it, but I didn’t regret it. And then… life got crazy. Vigilantes were breaking into my apartment, the daycare was getting busier, the Red Hood was leaving me meals,” he gave the vigilante a pointed look. “Suddenly I’d taken in a couple of teenage boys and also my younger sister all of whom need an education I’m not qualified to provide but am somehow the only one able to do it- it’s a lot, man.”

Hood nodded in understanding. “That is a lot. You don’t have any… friends or family who could help you? Parents?”

Danny’s face darkened. “No. Look, this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with this. Basically all of high school I got zero sleep and was expected to keep up grades and protect the town- I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, about that. You wanna tell me how you were a teenage vigilante?”

Shaking his hand, Danny huffed. “You want my origin story? Man, I’m retired. And you’ve probably never even heard of me.”

Hood didn’t budge.

“I’ll tell you what- you take off the helmet, and I’ll tell you my origin story.” 

“Not gonna happen.” Hood responded quickly.

With a smug look, Danny crossed his arms. “That’s what I thought. Thanks for the food, the boys always appreciate it, but I think we’re done here.” He moved to show Hood out (through the window) but the man didn’t move, staring at Danny intently. “What?” He sighed.

Hood lifted his arms and though Danny’s danger sense didn’t go off, he worried he’d offended the man. Although he thought very highly of the vigilante, he didn’t really know much about him. But instead of losing his temper or pushing Danny for more, Hood unlatched his helmet.

Danny gasped slightly as the man pulled it away and revealed- a domino.

“Oh you sneaky motherfucker!” He barked out, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. When he was done laughing, he took in the man’s face. His black hair was messy, probably from the helmet, some of his hair looked… white? But what he noticed the most was the scar on the side of his face. It was a J. Although Danny wasn’t always the best at putting things together, he could extrapolate who’d left that there without needing to ask.

He sucked in a breath. “Okay, I take it back, I think I’m actually going to start sleeping better now that that fucker’s dead.”

Hood pursed his lips. Danny tried not to look too closely at his lips but Ancients damn he was failing miserably. The man was hot. Danny liked men. He liked men so much.

The vigilante cleared his throat and Danny snapped out of it. “Sorry. I guess a deal is a deal. You want tea? Coffee? Something to eat? It’s kind of a long story.”

It seemed that Hood was going to refuse his offer but thought better of it. Maybe he noticed the way Danny’s voice shook a bit when he spoke or the haunted look he tried to cover up with a smile. “Tea would be great. Anything black.”

Nodding, Danny set to making them each a cup of tea immediately. He had a simple decaf black tea that he liked in the evenings and set to making them each a cup. “Milk? Sugar?” 

“A little of each.” Came the vigilantes' response. He sounded farther away than he had a moment ago and when Danny looked over to see why he found the man looking at pictures of him with his fraid. 

When the tea was ready he brought it to the couch and set the cups down. “Those are my friends.” He said, startling Hood out of his apparently deep thoughts. Even with the domino covering his eyes, Danny could tell the man was thinking deeply about something. 

Instead of asking whatever questions he had, the man picked up the mug meant for him and took a sip. “Thank you.”

Danny grabbed his own mug and sat on one side of the couch, Hood followed suit and sat on the other end. There was a lot of room between them. 

“Anyway,” Danny took a sip of his tea to put off telling the story a bit more. “My… parents, Jack and Maddie, are what you might call mad scientists.” He noted the way Hood tensed. “They had a fascination with ghosts and proving their existence and studying them. When I was a kid Jack and Maddie began constructing a portal to what they called ‘the Ghost Zone’. It took years. When they were done- it didn’t work.

“They were pissed, but my friends and I thought it looked pretty cool. So they dared me to go inside and take a picture. And- well- I wanted to look cool for my friends. So I went inside.” He paused, taking a sip. “Jack and Mddie are idiots and put a switch on the inside of the portal, and as a certified klutz, I tripped into it.”

Hood scrunched his brows together clearly tempted to interrupt but aware that he shouldn’t. It was cute. 

“I’d say the amount of electricity that went through my body was a few thousand volts. I died. ” He let that sink in for a moment, Hood’s lips had parted in shock. Danny held up his hand and showed Hood his lichtenberg scars. “I died but Jack and Maddie weren’t completely crazy. They were right about the ghost zone- although it’s called the Infinite Realms to those who actually inhabit it and while the portal opened through my body it was flooded with something called ectoplasm.

“Ectoplasm is part of ghosts. They need it to exist, they produce it, it’s like blood… kind of. So the electricity killed me but the ectoplasm tried to keep me alive and I ended up half dead… half alive. You with me so far?”

Hood ran a hand through his hair. “There’s... more?”

Danny laughed. “So much. But we won’t get into all of that.” Hood didn’t need to know about every rogue he’d fought, the fact that he’d become king of the Infinite Realms at fifteen, or what happened after high school…

“How old were you?” Hood asked like it was important.

He guessed it was. “Fourteen.” He managed.

Hood cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “With the portal open, ghosts thought it was fair game for them to come through. Ghosts- and keep in mind, ‘ghost’ is a really generalized term, there are different kinds. Anyways, ghosts socialize through fighting and sparring so when they showed up and started attacking… I felt responsible.

“So I kicked their butts and threw them back into the Infinite Realms. They kept coming back and I kept dealing with them. Jack and Maddie, ever intent on catching a ghost to study, chased me for years not knowing I was their son. At one point the government got involved, it was a whole thing, eventually I was able to prevent the ghosts from coming back without permission and retired. Ta-da.”

Hood licked his lips and Danny knew- he knew Hood was trying to understand what Danny had just said but holy fuck why did he have to lick his lips? “So… You… died? And you… came back… wrong?” 

Something about the way he asked it struck Danny as strange. It sounded like a phrase he’d said before, something maybe he’d… heard others say? It wasn’t offensive, just… strange. “I guess you could look at it that way. I don’t know if ‘wrong’ is the best way to put it, just… different. Despite what Jack and Maddie will tell you- I’m still the same guy I was before I died. Well- as much the same as you can be after experiencing something like that.”

“This is…” Danny nodded encouragingly as the man tried to digest what he’d learned. “Okay. So- sure. Ghosts. Why not? How did you… deal with them?”

Danny had pointedly ignored telling Hood about his ghost form- it felt… too personal. But he did feel a need to explain a bit to the man- the Avenger of the Dead. “When I came back I had… powers. Like ghosts. I mean, I’m half ghost so… I can do the things they can do plus some other stuff.”

“And that’s how you accidentally killed the clown? Super strength?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

Hood stood up and began pacing- something he’d clearly been itching to do for a while but had held off for Danny’s sake. “So… when you died and came back- did you- were there like… side effects?”

“Like what?” Danny tilted his head.

“Uncontrollable rage.”

It was a strange question. The same way Hood asking if he ‘came back wrong’ was strange. Like he was drawing from personal experience rather than asking about Danny specifically. “Hood.” Danny stood slowly, no need for another fainting spell at such a fragile moment. “Why do you ask?”

There was only a moment of hesitation before the vigilante answered. “Because I died and came back wrong too.” 

Oh. Okay. Danny had never had this conversation before. He had to admit, something felt a bit off about Hood when they first met- but everyone felt a bit off in Gotham. It was in the air, buried under the streets built atop graveyards, it was embedded in every building and plant and person. The city reeked of that different feeling. So he’d brushed it off and learned to tune it out.

“Danny?”

Right, he was in the middle of an important conversation. “Sorry, I’ve just never… uh… There aren’t many people like me. Can you… tell me more about how you came back?”

Hood tensed.

“Or not!” Danny shouted. “Sorry! Ancients, Danny.” He sighed. “Look, I never had uncontrollable rage- although… Well…” Did he really want to go there? But the look on Hood’s face- even covered by a domino- told him the man needed answers. And Danny might have them. “There’s a… different version of me that has some pretty bad anger issues.”

“A different version of you?”

“An evil future me. He’s still around… somewhere.” Danny feigned nonchalance. Truth be told he didn’t know exactly where Dan was- he’d left that to Clockwork to handle, but last he heard his future self was getting therapy which- that was hilarious actually. Danny hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Clockwork about him. Not once.

Hood shook his head. “This is… crazy. You’re telling me-” He cut off, his head turned to the side slightly as if listening to something. “Fuck. Okay. I have to go- Spoiler needs backup- we are not done talking. This is crazy and I have a million questions, Jesus Christ- ghosts!” He rambled, looking for his helmet and taking his leave without so much as a goodbye.

Well. 

That went…

It went. That’s for sure.

Prev. Next

[whiskeynwriting]

Alpha Simon/Omega Reader HC's

I've never ever written A/B/O dynamics before but lord Alpha Simon has been calling to me.

Warnings (18+ minors DNI)

Grinding/dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive Simon, size kink, a little roughness, some marking, brief mention of blood, degradation, oral sex (m receiving)

Simon loves dry humping you.

Literally nothing turns him on more than grinding his erection against your ass and rutting until he's spilling in his pants. His entire body tense, flexes, every muscle straining against you as he does it. And every time, you lay there for him, occasionally shoving yourself back against him with a bashful grin.

"C-Christ," It's the only time he'll whine, teasing himself until he's nearly purple at the tip. "Feels so goddamn good."

Will throw you down whenever he pleases to either hump or fuck you.

Biting into your shoulder, licking over your scent gland. He snarls into your neck when he fucks himself between your legs, listening to the wetness dripping from your pretty lips.

"Fucking love the way you give into me." Simon grunts, words of approval continuously falling from his lips.

Will sometimes hump you even if he's not entirely horny, just as a display of dominance between the two of you.

He'll corner you, especially if you've done something he doesn't like. It's there that he'll shove you face-first into the wall, huffing and growling in your ear while thrusting against you, holding you still beneath the crushing weight of his body and hands. Ghost liked t overpower you, and did it as often as he could. It's here that you're reminded of his size and strength, his stature towering above your submissive and giving form.

"I think you need to remember," His voice is dangerously steady, frighteningly low. "Just who's in charge here."

Is possessive as all hell.

While out in public, he makes sure your body never leaves his. Whether his hand is wrapped firmly around your own, or one of those bulky arms is looped around your shoulder, he keeps you close. Loves to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your midsection, resting his chin on the top of your head. The embrace feeds his ever-growing size kink, the position allowing him to feel just how small you truly are in comparison to him.

"Tiny thing," Turning his head, he'll kiss the top of yours, murmuring the words against you.

Lives to bite into your skin.

Marking you was one of Simon's favorite pastimes, and it often happened after sex. It was his way of worshipping you, of claiming you all over again. He'll suck your sweet flesh into his mouth, gnawing on it, nipping at the delicate places along your skin. He'll draw blood if he's aroused enough, but he'll always leave you blooming with bite marks and bruises.

"So pretty," And then he'll smack the wet, raw space between your legs, just so he can hear you squeak. "All for me."

Is unforgiving and mean when you go down on him, showering you with sinfully sweet degradation.

He'll shove you all the way down to his base, throbbing violently in your throat while he holds you there. You'll gag and sputter around him, but he's unrelenting, keeping your nose stuffed into his bush of curly blonde hair. And here, you can smell him, his natural musk, the scent of him. The smell forces your eyes back into your skull, allowing your throat to relax around him.

"Open your throat for me," He'll demand roughly, voice full of grit. "Do it."

At first, he considered if he was being too rough with you. But from the aroma wafting through the air, he knew you liked it. The scent you exuded was sweet, full of lust and desire; eager to please. And the names he called you only heightened your arousal, the embarrassment burning bright between your legs.

"Delightful little whore."

"Pretty fuckin' mess."

"Perfect fuck doll for me."

[tokiwarcube]

Some Nathan NS/FW headcanons that I completely blanked on posting -- oops! (SFW Companion piece HERE)

Reader gender not specified -- Talks of size kink, overstim (R rec.), leashes and bondage (N rec.), and more! Enjoy! <3

Nathan has, at the beginning of your relationship, these very rigid ideas of what is expected from him as a man of his size and stature.

Don’t get me wrong — he does absolutely love the power trip that comes with seeing you on your knees, or pinned beneath his larger frame.

That’s nothing to say of your fluttering eyelashes, brimming with unshed tears of overstimulation — all clipped whines and punched out breaths as he fucks out every thought in your head.

Wrists trapped in his hold, bruises darkening just under your collar in ways you’ll struggle to hide in the morning…

Believe me, he loves being the one to bring you to the precipice like this.

But you know, as you get closer, he starts having thoughts that scare him a little.

It starts out small — instead of being caged beneath him, maybe you’re riding him in his next fantasy. Tugging on his hair, placing your own well-timed nips to the expanse of his throat. No big deal. And maybe you’re throwing some of his own words back at him, but again, not a huge thing.

But then one day you’re out of town, and he’s needy, fantasizing with his hand on his dick and suddenly he’s cumming the hardest he ever has solo to the thought of you topping him, leash in hand. And Jesus Christ, does it ever throw him for a loop.

This is all to say: Switch/Vers, but it takes a century and a half for him to admit that he’s anything but a Dom/Top.

Nathan hardly has any volume control outside of the bedroom, and that isn’t going to change within it, either. He growls so deep you can feel it in your bones, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the hottest thing in the whole fucking world. He’s not a talker for the most part — not unless either A.) You’re in control, and have set it as a rule, or B.) You’re both in a tender mood — but his noises more than make up for it.

When he’s in control for the night, he is adamant about keeping as much skin to skin contact as he can — whether he’s rolling his hips into you, pressed chest to chest from above, or pulling you flush to his form as you rut against him, the two of you hardly ever have more than a millimeter of space between you.

He also loves using his strength to his advantage in the bedroom, moving you this way and that without breaking a sweat. It makes you feel very small, just by existing — to say he has a size kink would be an understatement.

On that note — his hands are fucking huge, and they stretch you out in ways that leave you drooling and needy faster than you’d like to admit. Although again, there’s something very, very addicting about seeing how his hands cover you, grabbing and needy.

Loves cumming on you, and will always take that if the option is available — half of it is a territorial powerplay, but the other half of him just really, really loves the sight. He’s not too particular about where, but he’s partial to your chest and stomach.

He also looks divine in black ribbon and rope — it’s quite the feeling, having such a powerful man (in every sense of the word), dolled up and at attention, all for you. He very much benefits from having a soft, but firm, dominant. If he’s struggling to keep up with your commands, know he does better on leash. You suspect that he acts out a bit more just to feel the leather against his skin, to feel you gently tugging his chain to get him where he needs to be. His flushed and twitching cock only cements your suspicions further.

He’s so pretty when he cums, all tense muscle and choked out groans. It’s always a 50/50 on whether or not you get to see his face — half the time he’s buried his head in your neck, or cast his head back, black hair falling elegantly despite the thickness in the air. But when you do? Oh, what a beautiful sight. Slack jawed, brow furrowed, and flushed, he’s a sight for sore eyes.

Thank God he has so much stamina.