#despite it being so easy to know that it only forms under the age of 10 with a google search so quick even

[alliumdykes]

yk I would love to make a horror themed webseries online with inspirations from many things I enjoy, talk about, and obviously show it but the fear of Matpat going theorise on it and be like ‘There are many references to the artist Louis Wain in this one scene with x character, Louis Wain was a famous schizophrenic artist, There for x character had schizophrenia’ despite me wanting to do a cool ass scene inspired by the kaleidoscope cats of Louis Wain

[lilisettean]

Hot Steam | Xavier/Reader

About: What started as a nice soak in the hot springs with Xavier turned into something more...

Pairing: Xavier/Reader

Notes: I don't have the memory Kind Words for Xavier itself so idk what goes on in that scene but the art itself made me go . I need him I need to write him and mc in the hot springs.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Age 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“This was not what I had in mind when you told me to come sit closer.”

You said, doing your best to look him in the eye and not let your eyes wander down further. But he did not extend the same courtesy to you.

“Then what did you have in mind?” Xavier asked as he toyed with the towel that was stubbornly wrapped around your body. He had complained about you sitting too far away from him while in the hot spring beforehand and caught you off guard when you scooted closer, grabbing and lifting you by the waist and then plopping you down onto his lap. While you didn’t mind the closeness of it all, something about being skin to skin and almost naked made you feel… exposed.

It didn’t help that his hand was still on your waist, resting at the small of your back. How easy would it for him to slide his hand down further and slip it under the flimsy towel–

A sudden kiss to your bare shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. He was staring up at you, his eyes dark and intense. He didn’t care your breasts were pressed against him, the towel shielding your form from him barely holding on. 

Or maybe he did care, since you could suddenly feel something poking at your thigh.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, his expression unchanging despite knowing you could feel his growing problem under you.

“What do you think?” You retorted as calmly as possible. You thought it was impossible to feel yourself grow even hotter, being in a hot spring and all. But you did, his touch planting seeds of desire under your skin. Especially when he hooked his fingers onto the hem of your towel.

You nodded when he looked toward you for permission. And with one smooth motion, the fabric that protected you from the world, from his dark, predatory gaze, fell around you and sunk into the hot spring. 

The soft sigh he let out then broke the peaceful silence of the hot spring, his hot breath fanning your exposed breast. Lifting his hand out of the water, he dragged a finger against the round of your right breast, as though committing the sight before him to memory.

“You’re so beautiful.” Xavier breathed out, before pulling you down to a kiss. It felt tender at first, gentle like he was to you. But as seconds ticked by, the kiss grew more intense, headier, with him palming your breast and thumbing over your pert nipple as his other hand drew you closer to him. 

And then, you felt it. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his hardness. The soft cotton fabric brushed past your clit and his clothed tip pushed insistently against your entrance. Taking advantage of your surprise, he slipped his tongue past your lips and deepened the kiss, slowly grinding himself up and down your heat.

“I don’t— I don’t think we should do this here.” You said, breathless after parting from his lips. His hands were incredibly distracting, wandering about and teasing you. But that was nothing compared to his hardened cock resting between your folds, throbbing every now and then to remind you of your shared predicament.

“You’re right. Shall we head back inside?” 

Before you could climb off his lap however, he slipped an arm under you and lifted you, hauling you up to his shoulder with one arm. 

Like a prize won by a successful hunter.

“Wait– I can walk–”

“No.” Xavier said, carrying up and into the room you booked, suddenly glad that you opted for a private hot spring instead. He gently laid you down on the bed before climbing on top of you, his piercing gaze never leaving you once. 

“What kind of hunter would I be if I let my prize go?”

[obsessedwithceleste]

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood

Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on

1000% Theo is an introvert

Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly

While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily

This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular

He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever

He’s also stupid smart

(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)

And this makes him a bit of an arrogant asshole

Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him

He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset

Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure

Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes

But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle

Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire

A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control

They’re wrong

Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-

“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”

Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal amounts of emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population

Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch

Theo is a chaser

Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy

Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock

And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more

But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days

Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body

But really they’re just that- rumors

Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way

But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not

He prefers to fly under the radar

He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell

He has a hard time entering a real relationship

Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick

But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard

Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)

Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you

With varying degrees of success

King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)

Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell

Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way

Finds it amusing when you get jealous though

But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)

Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af

But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s

Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk

[yuurei20]

I heard from someone that Azul is actually very strong although he's not very athletic because he's an octo merman he's mostly muscle they said that Floyd has talked about it in bean fest I wanted to know if Azul being insanely strong was just a headcannon or cannon cause its kinda funny to me azul could carry professor vargas that one event on his own when prof vargas is pure muscle

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🐙

Yes yes! The first information we receive about Azul being stronger than he looks is from Floyd during Beanfest, who explains,

"Who said anything about Azul bein' weak without his magic? He's real strong. He's slow on land and in water, and he's got lousy athletic reflexes, but that doesn't mean he's weak."

"Azul's bigger than me in the water, and he's got eight huge, heavy limbs. His submission holds are bad news, and he's got crazy grip strength. If he so much as snags you, he can snare you with your arms pinned.

Octopi are, like, all muscle. Seems to me like that wouldn't go poof just 'cause he took a potion to turn himself human.

I'm just spitballin' here, obviously. But all I'm saying is that writing Azul off is a bad idea."

(All of the above dialogue is 100% accurate to the original game! Floyd's "I'm just spitballin' here" line might make it seems like he is just guessing and doesn't actually know, but his original line is closer to, "I don't know all the details," and sounds more like he knows this information is fact, he just can't give a physiology lesson on how it all works.)

But Floyd's information is a little vague: he says Azul has "crazy grip strength" and his "submission holds are bad news," but that is the same line where he talks about Azul in his merform--so is he talking about mer-Azul or human-Azul? Or is he not making a distinction because there isn't one?

Can Azul snare people and pin them down on land, or was Floyd half-relating an anecdote from when they lived underwater?

But then came Book 6 and a line from Azul himself saying that his "arms are quite powerful," unlike Riddle's.

This seems to confirm that Azul is physically stronger than most people, but then comes the thunder spear:

Riddle asks for help lifting it and Azul struggles under its weight, despite how this would have been the ideal opportunity to illustrate how physically capable Azul really is.

But maybe the thunder spears are a tall order for anyone to lift? They're weapons from the age of the gods--maybe they just weren't designed for humans (or creatures in human form) to lift on their own?

Except:

There is Leona, who both lifts and wields the thunder spear entirely on his own, twice (he gets help from Jamil the third time).

But the rules of the thunder spears are unclear: after Team-OctaHearts' spear goes into energy-saving mode Riddle says, "I should be able to handle it now on my own," insinuating that when they are not in attack-mode they are easier to wield.

Azul carries it at first but, due to his infamously poor stamina, he does eventually give it up to Riddle.

When Azul comments on how easy RIddle makes carrying the spear look Riddle explains, "I spend most of my time learning magic. I have ever since I was born," insinuating that he is using a form of magic (perhaps levitation) to carry it and maybe does not have it physically in his arms at all.

(Vil explains that the spears are difficult to control in attack-mode due to the amount of energy they give off.)

And that asks questions about levitation that I have always wondered about!

During Glorious Masquerade Epel is only capable of carrying one crate of apples at a time.

When Malleus levitates an entire apple truck Epel comments, "I'm pretty sure only Malleus could pull off a feat like that…"

Are levitation and physical strength connected? Malleus says that he is physically stronger than humans even without his magic, so he does not serve as a good example.

Is Epel only capable of levitating one crate of apples because that is the limit of what he would be able to accomplish physically? Or do his magical limitations mirror his physical limitations by coincidence?

We know that Leona is extremely powerful (re: Leona's Power). Is Leona both physically stronger than an octopus mermaid and magically stronger than Azul, or is Azul physically stronger than Leona, but his magic wasn't enough for the spear?

And then there is the fact that Azul is, magically, extremely strong:

Jade comments that Azul's unique magic is too strong for even him to control (which is why he designed the golden contracts--to artificially rein himself in). Does that apply to all of Azul's magic, or is it just his UM?

Someone with the muscle of an octopus and a magic too strong to be wielded by its own user seems like they should be able to control a thunder spear on their own--but maybe Leona is just that strong? 🦁

To the original question:

Yes! It is canon that Floyd has said that Azul is insanely strong, and Azul himself has repeated it, but--

edit:

Ahhh thank you very much to the anonymous asker who mentioned Azul's Tapis Rouge vignette! 🥳 In-game example of Azul flexing his physical strength!!📝

And thank you to @basuralindo for the reference to Azul prying Stitch off of the prefect! 🐙 (Azul: "You might've thwarted my efforts entirely if we hadn't been underwater.")

And thank you again to @basuralindo and @mellosdrawings for the Vargas Camp references!! 📝

In a vignette we have Azul volunteering to carry a load of wood for Kalim. He pretends to be struggling under the weight in order to leave a lasting impression of his efforts, but as we cannot tell how much wood there is that he is hauling it can be difficult to tell how heavy it truly is--but then there is Vargas👀

At Trey's request, Jade and Azul are assigned the task of evacuating a bound Grim and Vargas from the mine. Jade takes Grim and runs away, leaving Azul behind alone with the prefect to handle Vargas--did he know that Azul would not struggle with carrying him?💪

Azul does ask for the prefect's help, but only because he is worried about bumping Vargas' head against the rocks--he does not say anything about struggling to carry him!

And this sounds very similar to a comment from Malleus on carrying Idia and Azul through the narrow stairwells of the bell tower during Glorious Masquerade! 🐉🐙

[enihk-writes]

[someone older]

pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader

reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.

summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be

content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation

characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)

author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.

NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.

JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.

TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.

DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.

CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?

SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?

HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.

RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.

[peachsayshi]

Hi, I really like ur page and i was wondering if i could request a beach day with dad gojo?? I think this would be wholesome😭💕

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

⥽ notes: some tooth rotting fluff for you nonnie! cw children; reader and gojo are parents of two; alternate au where things are only happy; satoru is a retired sorcerer; I mention that satoru's hair is a bit long but that's because I actually hc him growing it out slightly after retiring - requests for dad gojo prompts are still open.

love consumes your daily life. it comes in the form of good morning kisses, in messy rooms, in vibrant chatter that never seems to end, in tears, in a stack of dirty dishes, in folding clothes for a family of four. it manifests itself in various ways - and no matter where the pendulum swings between how good or bad it can feel, you go to sleep every night eternally grateful.

today's sky is clear and vibrant, saturated in a blue that mirrors the expanding horizon. waves crash along the shore, the subtle breeze whipping back and forth.

a morning at the beach was just what you needed. a nice break away from the demands of your day to day life. the heat teasingly kisses your exposed skin, despite you being hidden under the giant umbrella.

you inhale with gratitude, breathing the salt in the air.

by your side is your daughter, whose now a year and half. her white hair is pulled into two pigtails, her cheeks a rosy pink. she's sitting upright, her big eyes focusing on her toy tools as she shovels the grains of sand by your side.

you mindlessly lean forward to kiss the top of her head, pushing your sunglasses away from your face to glance toward the horizon.

your heart flutters at the sight of your husband whose tall, muscular body stands firm like a marble statue in the distance. your son is on his shoulders, his hands lightly gripping his father's hair, as satoru trails a path back and forth along the sea bed.

no one would be able to tell that your son is actually quite tall for his age, not when he looks so small next to his father.

your daughter noises out "dada" as she follows your gaze, pointing her shovel towards them and flicking tiny granulates of sand up ahead.

once upon a time your life wasn't quite like this, so you absorb the seconds like a sponge.

you spend some time building sand castles with your daughter, who rejects the concept of dimensional shapes and prefers the art of rustic mounds instead. you're both so engrossed in your little activity, that you barely hear satoru and your son walk towards you.

"mama!" your son squeals, his hands clutched tight into two fists as he nearly kicks the mound that you've both been carefully crafting together.

"easy, my love!" you giggle, glancing up at him with affection.

he looks so much like satoru, you think. his eyes may be yours, but satoru's genes fought hard for that claim with a streak of blue piercing through his left iris. he has the same cute little nose, and a massive grin that brightens up his whole face.

the only stark difference is with his hair color, which was simply a lighter shade of yours.

"m'sorry!" he politely replies, adjusting his position as you circle one arm around him. "I gotta show you!" he opens both fists, where he holds two beautiful shells. "one's for you, mama. and the other is for akemi!"

"oh, these are beautiful, jun!" you coo, taking each shell from his hand. you already know exactly where you'll keep them, one sitting on your vanity and the other you'll attach onto the decorative mobile in akemi's room.

you place both shells carefully into the beach bag and pick up jun's thermos. he plops down right beside you and happily takes it from your hand.

meanwhile, satoru finds his place on the towel, his long arms scooping up akemi into the contours of chest.

you run your fingers through jun's wet hair, pushing it away from his face as you watch him drink water. akemi babbles by your side while satoru continues whispering the sweetest words into her ear.

"how's my pretty girl? you having fun making sand castles with mama?" he coos, rubbing the tip of his red rose against hers. their blushed faces mirroring one another.

akemi giggles and kisses her father in return.

"we should be heading back soon," you state, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news but knowing full well that the afternoon heat will be far too much for young daughter.

satoru and jun both turn to look at you, tiny pouts forming on their mouths as their shoulders slump.

"do we have'ta, mama?" jun mumbles.

"yes, but how about we get some ice cream first before we go?"

"oh! I could do with some ice cream!" satoru replies, too busy making a silly face at akemi to pull another laugh out of her.

jun moves closer to them, practically crawling on his father's lap as he raises the thermos victoriously like he won an epic battle.

"I want ice cream too!"

satoru gathers him in his arms as well, placing him on his lap to cradle his two babies together.

another burst of love runs through you, one that settles deep within your soul.

you allow father, son and daughter to bond while you carefully pack up all your things. by the time satoru puts them down, you're almost finished.

you stand up to stretch your legs, your husband following your footsteps and slipping his arms around your waist to spin you in his direction while jun and akemi take a second to destroy the sand castle that you were building earlier.

"hey, hot stuff," he teases under his breath, greeting you like it's the first time he's seen you all day. "missed you out in the water"

"nu-uh, mister," you playfully scold, "your smooth talking isn't going to excuse you from the near heart attack you gave me when you dunked jun in earlier..."

satoru arches forward to kiss your cheek, "lighten up, mama. you know our babies are in perfectly safe hands with me,"

you shake your head, a musing smile making your cheeks feel tight. you bring one hand up to twirl a strand of satoru's hair, while the pads of your other fingers lightly grazes over the blades of his undercut.

you scratch the back of his head lovingly, "I know they are"

two arms wrap around your leg, and you look down to find jun resting his chin on your thigh while looking up at you with curiosity. "mama, can we get the ice cream now?"

you shift your gaze to satoru, the tiny moment of privacy fleeting as love makes it's presence known once again.

"you guys head over to the shop, while I pack up the stuff. I'll meet you there."

with that, you carry akemi in your arms while you hold jun's hand. the three of you stroll away from your space of sanctuary towards the ice cream shop.

you greet the owner, his familiar face clocking your own. the last time you saw him was on your honeymoon with satoru. the man's face beams with pride as he looks at your children, witnessing how much has bloomed around you since.

you order everyone's ice cream, and he graciously offered akemi's tiny scoop free of charge.

you're seated at the booth, watching jun devour his chocolate soft serve while akemi's lips turn orange nibbling at her peach sorbet. satoru finally walks in, clad in a unbuttoned short sleeve shirt that he wears over his swim trunks. he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing the longer layers back and away from his face to reveal his handsome features.

"papa, hurry up! you're ice cream will melt!" jun calls out, and you kindly shush him as to not disturb the other customers.

thankfully, it was a young couple and two older women who simply laugh at the interaction.

satoru slips into the booth right next you, his arm automatically curling around your waist while his free hand lifts the cone that you've been holding for him.

he dramatically licks around the swirl of vanilla, making jun and akemi laugh with his animated reaction.

you both find one another then, the root of your love at the forefront.

suddenly, everything else disappears, and it's just the four of you suspended in time. satoru leans down to steal a kiss, his sugary lips slightly cold, and you return the gesture tenderly.

"ewwwwww" jun interrupts, scrunching his nose in disgust.

the spark fizzles, but that's alright. you know full well that you and your husband have the night to make up for it.

satoru looks at his son with cheeky astonishment. "eww?! really, jun? how do you think you got here in the first place?"

you playfully slap your husband's chest, while your son shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with his innocence brushing over satoru's comment.

"dunno, ask mama"

satoru's jaw goes slack, a disapproving expression overcoming him. "ask mama? as if your papa had nothing to do with it, huh?"

"well, I came from her tummy not yours" your son answers quite matter of factly, giving your husband a sassy look as if he knows better.

you bring your fingers to your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at his wild comment and rest your cheek against satoru's shoulders, listening to father and son banter while the exhaustion from the day trickles in slowly.

you close your eyes for only a moment when the silence settles in.

satoru leans you both back against the plush surface of the sofa.

"tired, angel?"

"mhmm," you agree, "but today was perfect."

he smiles, his cerulean eyes shifting to jun and akemi finishing up their treats.

you're not the only one who finds themselves thankful.

"yeah," he murmurs, squeezing your waist in confirmation, "yeah, it really was."

note: I am not accepting any new requests. if you're interested in seeing what kind of requests I am accepting - please check the "rules" and "upcoming" links on my pinned.

[sidekick-hero]

I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 2, prompt: ghosts. Title from Euclid by Sleep Token.

Tags: Ghost!Eddie, Angst with a happy ending (!), childhood friends, canon divergence

words: 1.7k | AO3 | teen

"You are such a charmer, big boy. Oh, wow, your eyes are so blue; it's like looking at the ocean. I can't believe she let you get to second base after that line."

"Oh, please, what do you know? How many second bases have you been to?"

Eddie recoiled at Steve's words, and Steve immediately wanted to kick himself. That was a low blow, even for him. Eddie's constant teasing about his dates always got under his skin. It’s why he mostly stopped bringing girls over, but Megan had insisted they couldn’t go to her place because her mom was always home. She didn't want to risk getting caught in his car.

So he brought her home to let his house ghost judge his moves.

What was his life, anyway?

Despite his irritation, Eddie was his best friend, alive or not, and Steve didn’t want to hurt him.

"Shit, Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"But you did, Steve. And you're right. I haven't even kissed anyone. All I know is from those cheesy movies you secretly watch."

Steve gave Eddie a faint smile. "Oh my God, that was once. Maybe twice. And no one was supposed to know."

Eddie looked up at him, his big brown eyes still sad. "Who would I even tell? You're the only one who can see me. Don't worry your pretty head, Stevie, I'll take all your secrets to my grave."

Now it was Steve's turn to look sad, all his earlier giddiness from making out with Megan gone.

"This isn't funny, man." Steve's voice broke, and that finally snapped Eddie out of his strange mood.

Eddie approached, hand hovering over Steve’s arm, like he wanted to touch but couldn’t. Steve knew he couldn’t.

Eddie couldn’t touch him because Eddie was a ghost. He was dead, with no body to touch Steve with. They had tried, when they first met, and several times since. It never worked, just a cold whisper against his skin, but nothing substantial.

"Sorry," Eddie mumbled, looking contrite.

"It's fine. I just want to be alone for a bit, though. Please."

"Sure, Stevie. I’ll just… go, I guess. See you later?"

Steve forced himself to smile at Eddie to show him everything was okay between them. "Yeah, definitely. We still have to watch the new Star Wars movie, right?"

"Right. Just call when you're ready, and I'll see if I can fit you in."

With that, Eddie disappeared to wherever ghosts go when they’re not here. Steve still had no idea how it all worked, just that Eddie always came when he called.

The one time he didn’t, after a particularly bad fight—the worst they’d ever had—Steve had a panic attack. He had been alone at the time, as had become more and more usual for him. It was the only time Steve swears he felt Eddie, who had hugged him as tight as he could, begging him to ‘breathe, Stevie, please, just breathe, pleasepleaseplease.’

After that, Eddie had always been there as soon as Steve said his name, even when they were fighting.

Steve lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

He wondered what had changed between him and Eddie, when it stopped being so easy. He had known Eddie since he was six years old, when his parents and he moved into this house.

It was a hot summer day, and Steve had been hiding in his room, playing with his toy cars, when a voice behind him startled him. “What’re you doing there?” the voice had asked, and when Steve turned around, a little boy around his age was standing behind him.

They both had been lonely up until they met. Steve, a shy boy in a new neighborhood, found it hard to make friends. Eddie, a ghost with no memory of how he died, had been wandering the house for what felt like an eternity. They became best friends quickly, finding solace in each other's company. Strangely, Eddie seemed to grow up alongside Steve, his ghostly form aging in tandem with Steve’s living body.

They played together, laughed together, and shared secrets no one else would understand. Eddie was there for Steve’s first day of school, his first crush, and his first heartbreak. They spent countless nights talking about their dreams and fears, their bond growing stronger with each passing year. Despite the oddity of their friendship, it felt natural to them—an unbreakable connection that transcended the boundaries of life and death.

But lately, something had shifted. The effortless camaraderie they once shared now felt strained. Steve couldn’t pinpoint when it started, but he missed the easy days of their childhood when everything made sense and nothing seemed impossible.

Steve knew that it wasn’t just Eddie who was responsible for the new tension between them. It was Steve who had fallen in love with his dead friend.

It all started when he was thirteen. He had woken up to the strange feeling of being watched, and when he opened his eyes, he caught Eddie leaning over him, his translucent lips pressed against Steve’s. Before he could try to kiss back, Eddie had jumped away.

Eddie had apologized profusely, telling Steve he’d just been curious. He said it always looked so magical in the movies when people kissed, and he wanted to know what it was all about. Nothing more—it didn’t mean anything.

Too bad it meant a great deal to Steve. It had been his first kiss, and he didn’t even feel it.

A week later, when he kissed Tina to see if it would cause the same flutter of butterflies in his stomach, Eddie had caught them. Steve would never forget the look on his face.

Steve had apologized, even though he didn’t know what he’d done wrong—just that Eddie was hurting, and it was somehow his fault.

Eddie had been cold and distant, acting aloof and laughing in Steve’s face. He mocked him, saying he was already training to become a man-whore, asking if he’d kiss anything with a pulse and without.

That had been their first fight, and even though they made up afterward, things started to change.

The room was dimly lit, the glow from the TV screen casting flickering shadows on the walls. Steve and Eddie were sprawled on the couch, watching the latest Star Wars movie. Despite the tension between them, movie nights had remained a cherished ritual.

Steve’s dating life had become the elephant in the room, a sore topic between them that neither he nor Eddie wanted to address.

As the film progressed, a romantic scene between Leia and Han Solo unfolded. The characters on screen leaned in for a kiss, and Steve felt a familiar pang in his chest. He glanced at Eddie, who was watching intently, his expression unreadable.

The scene ended, and Steve felt the words bubbling up before he could stop them. "You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could have felt it when you kissed me."

Eddie turned to him, his translucent form shimmering slightly. "Steve, I—"

"I know you were just curious," Steve interrupted, his eyes fixed on the screen. "But it meant something to me. It was my first kiss, and I wanted it to be you, but I also wanted to feel it."

Eddie’s expression softened, a mixture of regret and sorrow in his eyes. "I’m sorry, Stevie. I didn’t know it would mean so much to you. I never wanted to hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted."

Steve sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I know. It’s just… I’ve thought about it a lot. Wondered what it would have been like if you were—if you weren’t—"

"If I weren’t dead," Eddie finished for him, a bitter smile on his lips.

"Yeah," Steve admitted, feeling a lump form in his throat. "If you were alive, things might have been different."

Eddie moved closer, his ghostly presence sending a chill down Steve’s spine. "I wish things were different too," he said softly. "But I’m still here, Stevie. Maybe not in the way you want, but I’m here."

Steve turned to face Eddie, their eyes locking. "I know. And I’m grateful for that. It’s just hard sometimes, knowing what we could have had."

When Steve meets Eleven, he's trying to protect the kids—his kids, in a weird way—from monsters that came from another dimension. A ghost he’s in love with living in his house is no longer the strangest thing happening in his life.

They sat in silence for a moment, the movie playing on in the background, both lost in their thoughts.

When El and Chief Hopper disappear inside the lab to close the portal, they all listen in through the walkie Dustin insisted El take with them.

They hear her scream, they listen to her win, and then the tearful cheering from her and Hopper.

"You did it, Kiddo. I knew you could do it. Come on, let’s get outta here," Chief Hopper says, sounding prouder than Steve's dad ever did. But then again, Steve never saved the world, so maybe that’s fair.

His heart stops at El’s next words.

"Wait, Dad. We need to save Eddie first."

Eddie.

We need to save Eddie first.

"Who’s Eddie?" Hopper asks, and Steve snatches the walkie from Dustin, not wanting to miss a single word.

"He's another boy like me, but he's asleep. Always asleep. They somehow take his energy from him to power their weird experiments. I don’t know how it works, just that he’s lying in this room all alone. We can’t leave him here, Dad. We can’t."

Steve’s mind races, trying to process what he’s hearing. Could it be the same Eddie? His Eddie?

"Eddie," Steve murmurs, gripping the walkie tighter. "Eddie, if you can hear me, we're coming for you. Hold on."

The group falls silent, the gravity of El's revelation sinking in. Steve's heart pounds in his chest, hope and fear swirling inside him. The ghost he loves might not be a ghost at all, but a boy trapped in a nightmare, waiting to be saved.

[shinjisdone]

Alucard thought no. 375 for the day

Despite being a Yandere, being terrifyingly possessive, obsessive and clingy as well as demanding, Alucard would always respect your decision to be or remain a human if you were one.

In fact, he'd prefer if you stayed human.

Never would he want you to become a monster like him. A being full of regrets and restlessness...

He'd rather have you be mortal and happy than be cursed with regrets - even if it means he cannot have you forever.

Nevertheless, as...endearing as it sounds, Alucard would therefore insist on being tied by your hip, clinging onto your mortal form 24/7 until the day it rots away due to old age. He'd do anything to ensure you live a long, healthy and happy life until you are brittled and old...all by his side, of course.

It's quite easy, too. No matter where you go and what you do, Alucard can and will always find you.

It makes it all easier when you are human.

No matter how you feel about him - love or rejection, respect or disgust - he will be part of your brief life and he WILL cherish it and cherish you. Every second, every minute. You have no power over this, darling angel.

Alucard cares very little over appereances.

He himself chooses any form he likes at any moment.

So, when it comes to you, he'd first appreciate your inner beauty before focusing on your physical form.

However, the more he stares (as in watches and observes while you sleep or when you are unaware he is hiding in your shadow) the more he finds to appreciate. With a pleasing grin, he watches you smile and laugh. The wrinkles under your eyes and nose are especially divine. The gentle way you tenderly touch something with care is breathtaking.

It's ironic, laughable even...but Alucard finds simple, human and kind gestures of the mortal body beautiful.

A form is a form and hair is hair, eyes are eyes...but a smile is joy. A pure, genuine smile avoid of Schadenfreude and bloodlust as he knows and bears it. Wrinkles are a sign of aging, of living. And care can only be found within the human heart and the willingness to give it to another being out of sheer kindness.

You adorable, little human. A being so fragile and so full of life. Of everything.

How can he not find you so utterly beautiful? Wonderful and picturesque? Don't blame him for staring.

[yes-divine-ruler]

Babysitting for the Detective - Colin Zabel

x fem!reader

CW: age gap, fingering, sex

wc: 4.6k

Colin was stumped on what to do. He'd been called in to work for a potentially big lead on the case they were working on, but he had no one to help look after his son. His mother had gone away and his usual babysitter had left town for summer break. His choices were close to none, until he called the only person he thought he could to get some advice.

"Hey Zabel," Mare didn't seem phased by the late night call, Colin knew she was already in the office.

"Hey.. Mare.. I need some help. It's about Mikey," Colin rubbed the side of his face as he sat across from Mikey in his rocker, who was asleep and tightly swaddled.

"Oh shit, is he okay?" Colin could hear Mare getting up in a hurry and leaving her office.

"Yes! Yes he's okay," Colin quickly convinced Mare so she wouldn't rush to his house, "I just don't have anyone to look after him tonight, I know we've made a potential lead and you all need me at the station."

"Oh right," Mare paused for a moment to get her breath back, "There's a girl I know.." Mare pauses again, a lump forming in her throat, "used to be good friends with.."

"Mare? Are you okay?" Colin clutched the phone to his ear, noticing her change in tone.

"Yeah sorry. Anyway, there's a girl I know who can look after Mikey for you, she's just a college kid, but real good with Drew when she comes around, I can call her?"

Colin sighed a breath of relief knowing he could trust Mare, and that he didn't have to let his team down.

"That would be great, give her my address if she's free, I'll meet her and then I'll come down," despite his relief, Colin still had to make sure this girl was someone he could see looking after his baby.

"Sure, call you back," the line went dead, and Colin put down his phone.

Mikey still slept peacefully in his rocker as Colin took a second to glance at him. It wasn't easy being a single working father, who had the constant pressure of wanting to be perfect for his son. He wanted to be home with him all the time, watch his son grow up, but he couldn't without making a living. A living he needed to give his son the best life he could.

Colin got up off the couch and walked towards sleeping Mikey. He reached down and picked up the rocker as carefully as he could, and relocated him to the doorway of his bathroom.

Colin took the opportunity to shower and get ready for work, keeping an eye on Mikey as he stood under the running water.

Mare had left a message for him in the meantime, saying the girl was free, her name was Y/N and she'd be around in 10 minutes. Colin didn't get the message until he stepped out of the shower, and then the doorbell rung.

"Shit," Colin cursed, wrapping a towel around his dripping body, trying to figure out what to do next.

When the doorbell rang a second time, Colin had no choice but to rush to the door, already feeling bad he needed your help last minute and was making you wait.

Trying not to slip on the floorboards, Colin rushed to the door, opening it only a few inches to peek his head out.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, Mare told me you needed a babysitter?"

Colin was too busy staring at you, he almost forgot to reply. Hell, he never thought he'd set his eyes on someone so beautiful in his life. Feeling his heart pick up pace, he clears his throat to distract himself and opens the door wider.

You were just as much in shock to see the town's detective in nothing but a towel. His wet hair covered his forehead and little droplets of water covered the expanse of his chest. He was so much younger than you'd imagined, and also a lot more attractive.

"Sorry! Yes, come in," Colin invites you inside and shuts the door behind you.

"Also I have to apologise for coming to the door in just a towel, time has been tight tonight," Colin shoots you a sheepish smile as you awkwardly stand in his front passageway.

"Mikey's just in my bedroom, I'll get dressed and bring him out," you nod with a small smile, and watch Colin's back as he rushes back towards his bedroom.

Making yourself comfortable, you sit on his sofa with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Your eyes wonder Colin's living room. You notice that, based on the lack of furniture and decor, he was living here alone with Mikey. Toys were sprawled across a small, blue play mat and soda cans littered the coffee table. Looking further into the kitchen, you noticed a pile of dishes by the sink and an abundance of empty feeding bottles. You could just sense from his home that Colin was overwhelmed, and it made you glad you could help him.

"Here he is! He's awake!" Colin appears from his bedroom holding his son close to his chest, now clothed in a simple blue button up and black dress pants. You kinda missed the towel.

You took a moment to allow Colin to come over to you, and shortly he sat down beside you. You lean in closer to get a glance at Mikey's little face.

"He's the cutest baby I've ever seen!" You shriek in excitement, reaching out and slotting your finger in his palm.

Mikey babbles and let's out a small giggle as you make a face at him. Colin's heart only picks up pace seeing how good you are already with his son. He knows Mikey is in safe hands.

Mikey leans back and sits on Colin's lap. Colin keeps  his hands around him as he bobs him on his knee.

"Yeah he's pretty perfect," Colin chuckles, leaving a small kiss on Mikey's head, "he's a pretty easy baby, luckily for me."

Mikey's wide eyes stare into yours, and your heart almost bursts. Surprisingly to Colin, he leans over and opens his arms out for you to hold him.

"Is it okay if..?" You ask, biting down on your bottom lip as Mikey begins to fuss.

"Oh! Yeah of course! He's never usually this friendly with anyone else," Colin lets out a small laugh as he passes Mikey to you.

Mikey takes to you immediately, resting his small chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your neck. You have to stop yourself from squealing from how cute this little boy is.

"Okay so, I'll be out for the night, I'll be back at about ten-thirty," Colin stands as he begins to explain Mikey's routine, "He had his bath at five, and I fed him his bottle, so really all I need is for him to be put to bed in his crib."

You nod along as Colin shows you where the bottles are kept in case he wakes up hungry and explains anything else you need to know, including where Mikey's bedroom is down the hall.

"There's some snacks in the fridge, help yourself to anything you want, or order in, here's a twenty for now," Colin takes a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and sets it on the kitchen counter.

"Thank you," you say finally, as Colin collects his work files and keep cup.

"No, thank you! I know this is short notice and I appreciate you coming out to help," Colin reaches out and brushes his hand across your upper arm in gratitude. His touch has your face heat up, and you hope he doesn't notice.

"I'll see you in a few hours, thank you again!" Colin leans over and plants a kiss on Mikey's head and before you know it, he's escaping out the front door.

"Okay little guy," you rock Mikey in your arms, "let's play and then I'll tuck you in."

Colin got home just after ten-thirty.  The thought of his babysitter was distracting him more than he'd like it to. He spent most of the night with the same image of you standing at his front door playing over and over in his head. He didn't know what is was about you that was so captivating, apart from your undeniable beauty. Part of him wondered if it was just your willingness to help that had him all worked up. Or the fact that Mikey had taken a liking to you straight away, like some weird sign from the universe.

When Colin finally made his way inside, he set everything down in the kitchen. His eyebrows knit together as he scoured the living room, expecting to see you on his couch. In the process, he noticed his house was a lot tidier than it was when he left. You'd taken the time to clean up for him. The pile of dishes were gone, and the soda cans were all in the trash. Colin ran his finger tip along the top of the microwave. Spotless. Not an ounce of dust on any surface. As if you could get any better.

Colin lays down his coat, and heads to Mikey's room first. He opens the door and sees little Mikey on his tummy in his sleep suit, soundly asleep in his crib. Colin breathes a sigh of relief seeing his son tucked up in bed, and closes the door softly behind him.

On his mission to find you, he stops short at his bedroom door. Illuminated by the light in the hallway, he finally sees you, sprawled across his bed and snoring softly. Colin chuckles to himself, and his pushes the door open wider, letting more light in. He'd hate to wake you up, but knew you had to get home, and he had to go to bed.

The light from the hallway filtering into the bedroom was enough to stir you from your sleep. You groan and rub the sleep from your eyes. Something hard pressed against your chest, and feeling for it, you realise you'd fallen asleep cuddling the baby monitor.

"Hey, you awake?" You hear Colin's voice from the doorway and you sit up immediately. Shit. You weren't supposed to fall asleep, especially not in his bed.

"Oh! Colin, I'm so sorry I didn't-" Colin laughs and steps into the room.

"Can I turn the light on?" He asks with grin, and after you nod your head, he switches it on.

You eyes squint as they adjust to the harsh overhead lighting. Colin leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, clearly amused you’d found your way into his bed and fell asleep.

You get up quickly, readjusting your shirt as you stand by the bed. Colin says nothing, watching you reorganise yourself to leave.

“I’m really sorry, your bed just looked so comfy,” you say with a small laugh, praying that he wouldn’t mind.

Colin just laughs and nods his head.

“No no, it’s totally fine, I don’t mind at all,” he bites down on his bottom lip, his gaze filtering over your outfit. The tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. And he didn’t mind it.

“Okay, I guess I should get going?” You ask as if it’s a question, looking up into his dark eyes. They glaze over with something you don’t quite recognise. Colin was trying his hardest to keep himself together. He hadn’t had another person in his bed since he split with his fiancé. It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, and brought on so many emotions. Not like he wasn’t already totally captivated with you to begin with.

“I’ll go get your money,” Colin finally speaks, backing out of the room and back towards his belongings in the kitchen.

“Oh shit!” You curse under your breath, rummaging through your bag for your house keys. It looks like you left them at home, and you know for a fact there was no other way you could get inside. Not until the morning anyway, when you could ring your landlord.

“Everything okay?” Colin appears beside you, holding a fifty-dollar bill.

“Um yeah- sorry. I just- I forgot my stupid house keys,” you ramble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue to search through every compartment of your bag, hoping they would appear. How embarrassing.

“You didn’t leave them anywhere else, did you?” Colin asks sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“Ugh- I don’t know! I don’t remember ever taking them out of my bag,” you shake your head in frustration, and drop the bag back onto the sofa.

“Hey don’t worry about it, do you live with anyone? Anyone we can call?” He was quick to try and work up a solution, like a good detective, but they wouldn’t fix the problem. Not at this time of night.

“I live alone, and my landlord won’t be available until the morning,” you explain wearily, slowly accepting the fact that you might need to camp out in your car for the night.

“Look, you can always stay here if you’d like?” Colin offers, nervously rubbing up and down his upper arm, “it’s late, and it’s not super safe to drive out there right now.”

“No no! I would hate to intrude! Honestly my car is fine,” you laugh nervously, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just stay here, take the bed even. Honestly, it’ll be my pleasure.”

You stare up at Colin as a smile spreads across his face.

“I know you think it’s comfy,” he teases with a sing-song tone.

You let out a small laugh as you consider it. It’s not like it’s a wild idea, you were already there. And he was right, it’s not the best time to be driving home anyway. Or to sleep in your car.

“Are you sure? I’ll definitely be on the couch,” you ask with hesitation.

“I’m positive. Look, I’ll go get changed, and then we can sit out here for a bit so you don’t feel so uneasy staying at a weird man’s house,” Colin jokes, pointing a thumb towards his bedroom.

“Okay, I don’t think you’re weird,” you say with a laugh.

“Okay good, I’ll be back,” Colin leaves towards his bedroom and closes the door.

You sit back down on the sofa, wondering what the fuck just happened, and why you couldn’t just remember to bring your house keys. In the meantime, Colin’s heart raced as he changed out of his work clothes. He didn’t know why he was so quick to offer for you to stay over. Was it to spend more time with you? He tried to persuade himself to tone it down. He was convinced you could see the way he looked at you. He didn’t want to come off as some creep.

Unbeknownst to him, you didn’t think Colin was a creep. You didn’t know much about him, but you felt safe with him regardless. Maybe it was because he was a cop. Or a single dad. He wasn’t a threat, he was more like a big, cuddly bear.

A sexy, big, cuddly bear wrapped waist down in nothing but a towel and with the most handsome face you’d ever seen.

Colin appears in the living room again in a pair of sweats and plain white t-shirt. You caught a whiff of his cologne as he passed by you, and the smell pleasantly filled your nose. He even smelt delicious.

“So,” Colin sits down beside you, “how did everything with Mikey go? Was he good?”

“He was an angel,” you gush, holding your face in your hands, “he went straight to bed with no trouble at all. He hasn’t stirred since.”

“Yeah he’s a great baby, I’m so fortunate I get a full 8 hours most nights,” Colin laughs softly.

“How was work?” You ask tentatively, unsure how much he could actually share, especially with the classified job he did.

“Yeah it was alright, we got a lot of work done on the case. Again, I’m so grateful you could make it over tonight,” Colin praises, offering you a big smile.

“It’s my pleasure, I barely had to do anything!”

“You cleaned the whole house! That definitely wasn’t nothing!”

You blush as you look down at your hands. He was really nice, it made you feel all tingly.

“It was no trouble at all, I’m happy I got to help out.”

The conversation only grew from there. You spoke about college, how Colin ended up in Easttown, and shared stories about your lives. Colin ended up opening up about his ex fiancé after grabbing a couple of beers. You sympathised with him, resting a hand on his knee to show your support.

“It was over long before it ended. I just haven’t had the time to get back out there. Plus, most women aren’t jumping at the chance to date a single dad,” Colin jokes, but his mind is distracted by the hand you’d placed on his knee. The heat from your palm radiated onto his skin. It sent weird shocks of electricity up his spine.

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you and Mikey in their lives,” you look up into Colin’s eyes, your hand still on his knee.

The room falls silent as you stare intensely into each-other’s eyes. There was an obvious sexual tension between the two of you, that neither of you were smart enough to acknowledge. Or maybe Colin was just choosing to ignore it.

Colin eventually clears his throat, ending the moment to look down at his watch.

“I guess I should get to bed, I didn’t even realise it was past twelve.”

“Oh shit, really?” You laugh, “I’m so sorry, get to bed.”

“Oh I’m sleeping here miss, you get the bed,” Colin gets up and leaves to his bedroom. He comes out with a pillow and a blanket.

Shocked he’d even offer his bed up, you shake your head, not willing to accept that.

“No way, you have a big boy job, that requires big boy sleep. I’m on the couch,” you say firmly, taking the pillow and blanket from his hands.

Colin scoffs, and with a mischievous smirk, snatched the pillow and blanket back.

“No I will not have a lady sleep on my couch, get in the bed before I lose it,” he jokes, sitting back down on the couch.

Standing before him, you huff and lunge to grab at the pillow again. But being unsteady on your feet, you fall forwards, right into his lap. Horrified at yourself, you try and get up, to only rub your chest up against his face by accident.

Colin’s eyes widen as he processes the very accidental, but very fortunate, series of events that just unfolded.

Your face burns red as you steady yourself again on your feet. You just shoved your tits in this poor man’s face!

“I am so sorry, I did not mean to do that,” you giggle nervously, “I’ll just go to bed.”

“Hey,” Colin reaches out and grabs onto your arm to stop you. For the millionth time that night alone, you catch yourself in a trance as you stare into his eyes.

“I didn’t mind it, not one bit,” Colin takes a stab in the dark and doesn’t let go of your arm in the process.

When you don’t reply, he lets out a small sigh.

“You’re really beautiful, anyone ever tell you that?”

Your lips curve into a small smile as the embarrassment dies down. How was he so good at making you feel all hot and flustered? He was so sickly sweet. In the best way possible.

“Not really,” you mumble, as Colin’s hand travels down your arm until eventually, he grabs onto your hand.

“Well, you are, I mean it,” he breathes out, his lips parting only slightly.

Your gaze flickers between his lips and his eyes. They almost look like they’re begging. Begging to be taken by yours in the nastiest, most sensual of kisses.

What washed over you? You don’t know. But you lean down and connect your lips to the detective’s. The detective you just babysat for. The sexiest damn detective you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Your haste decision pays off as Colin kisses you back. His hands hungrily reach out for your hips, and he pulls you down into his lap. Your knees straddle either side of his thighs.

Colin is hard almost instantly. It had been so long since he’d kissed someone, let alone had someone sit in his lap. He didn’t care about anything else right now but you on top of him. He was totally enraptured by you.

It showed as his tongue darted out of his mouth to part your lips. You eagerly let him in, settling your hands on his broad shoulders and squeezing softly. Your hips involuntarily grind down into the bulge in his sweats as he tilts his head to the side to get a better angle at your mouth. Colin moans softly into the kiss, his grip on your hips only tightening.

Your mind goes blank as your fingers bundle up his shirt. All you wanted was to get it off. Just to see that sculpted chest again. No matter how inappropriate this might be right now.

The kiss breaks momentarily as Colin tugs his shirt above his head. His lips are back on yours in an instant, and your fingertips explore the expanse of his bare skin.

“Fuck,” Colin mutters out of the kiss, as you grind your hips down into him a second time.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, his lips red and swollen as he asks your permission.

“Yes, please,” you say quickly, connecting your lips back to Colin’s like they were a drug.

Colin slides you off his lap, laying you down on your back on the sofa. His big, warm hands ride up your shirt until you bring it over your head. His kisses litter your jawline, and then down your neck. He’s slots between your open legs, his bulge positioned deliciously against your heat. You pulse in need for him. This was not how you were expecting things to go, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Colin unclasps your bra and tosses it onto the floor. He immediately takes one of your taunt nipples in his mouth, suckling on his gently. Your back arches up off the sofa as the first little moan leaves your lips. Colin’s cock twitches just hearing the sound. He needed more.

Your shorts are next to go, leaving you in only your panties. Your fingers tangle in Colin’s hair as he runs as a fingers up your clothed slit. A small wet patch taints the fabric.

“Colin,” his name rolls of your tongue with urgency.

Colin let’s out a breathy laugh, circling your clothed clit under the pad of his thumb. He applies just enough pressure to have the heat build between your legs and knots form in your stomach.

His fingers slip into the waistband of your panties next, pulling them off your legs. The sight of you left bare in front of him almost has him salivating.

“How is every part of you so damn fucking perfect?” He growls, applying pressure back on your clit.

Breathy moans escape your parted lips as your eyes fall shut. Colin takes the chance to spit directly on your little bundle of nerves before he’s circling against it again.

“That feels so good,” you pant, your nails scraping his scalp.

“You’re so wet baby, fuck,” Colin’s fingers dip down to your sopping entrance. It glistens with your sweet, sticky arousal.

“Yes! Yes oh my god,” you whine as Colin uses his middle finger to part your folds and sink inside you. His finger thrusts in knuckle deep, filling you up between your plushy walls. He thrusts it slowly, rubbing up time and time again against your sweet spot. Every nudge against it has your whimpering and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. When he adds a second finger, he curls them up into the spot he felt swells to his touch.

“Oh fuck! Right there!” Your eyes open as Colin begins to pick up the pace of his fingers, teasing your sweet spot blissfully.

His thumb rests against your throbbing clit again, rubbing small circles in sync with his thrusting fingers. Pleasure overwhelms all your senses. Your thighs begin to shake around his hand as a strong wave of intense bliss washes over you. Colin groans as you come undone, watching your perky breasts bounce as you fuck yourself against his fingers, riding out your orgasm.

Heaving to get your breath back, you lay still while Colin crawls on top of you, admiring the way your eyes glaze over in post-orgasm elation. He tugs down his sweats and boxers, letting his erection spring out from its confines.

You take it immediately in your hand, not surprised by his girth. You knew he’d stretch you to your limits, and you were more than ready.

You stroke him in your palm, lathering his length in his viscous pre cum.

“I need to feel you,” Colin begs, capturing your lips in another sloppy kiss.

“Then fuck me, detective,” a sick smile spread across your face as you guide his cock towards your soaked entrance, pushing his tip between your folds.

Colin’s eye widen in pleasant surprise. Never had he ever have someone call him detective in bed. And god, did he love it.

“Oh I will sweetheart,” Colin pushes his cock between your pulsing walls, and you invite him in with ease. Your tight cunt swallows every inch he has to offer you.

“Fuck!” He hisses, bottoming out inside you, “my god, your pussy is so fucking tight.”

Your fingers claw at his bare shoulders as he begins to thrust his hips. Colin brings your knees to your chest. He fills you to the brim over and over, angling his hips in a way that pushes him inside you deeper than ever before.

Colin wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close as he snaps his hips against yours. A scream nearly leaves your throat as his tip brushes against your sweet spot.

“Shhhh,” Colin breathes into your ear, “Mikey’s sleeping.”

Your lips press together in a tight line to stop yourself from waking him up this late at night. You try your hardest to contain yourself as Colin continues to bury himself impossibly deeper inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck- I’m gonna cum,” Colin pants into your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. He was so fucking hot.

Your fingernails run up his back.

“Cum for me, detective,” you whisper seductively into his ear.

Colin is quick to pull out, stroking himself to completion all over your dripping cunt. The image of his hand wrapped tightly around his cock and the sound of his moans as he finishes will forever be imprinted in your brain.

You hold your legs to your chest as his cum begins to seep from your cunt, basking in the moment for a little while longer.

Colin uses his shirt to scoop up his cum and throws it onto the floor. He runs a hand through his tousled hair as you lay sprawled on his sofa.

“Fuck that was…” he trails off, resting a hand on your knee as you rest your feet in his lap.

“Incredible,” you finish for him, giggling as he laughs in disbelief.

“You’re right, incredible is definitely the word.”

“So much for just babysitting huh?” You cheek, sitting up and sitting close to him.

“Looking after Mikey and daddy, aren’t you a good girl,” he teases, leaning over to press another kiss to your cheek.

@evanpetersfansblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr r @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler @spill-the-t

[hauntedestheart]

Ok so I just found and read Security Measures and I’m kinda actually in love with Dante. Do you think he might make a return? Ngl he seems like a prime opportunity for some Consensual Possession(tm) fun for the boys.

Since "Security Measures" is just a bunch of non-linear vignettes I didn't actually have any plans for Dante to return, but this was such a sweet ask that I was inspired to revisit his character!

I wanted to try and explore what "consensual possession" would be like but fair warning, it does get pretty explicit towards the end.

----

Extra Security: Dante (Male Possession)

A side story from the Security series detailing a meeting between Andy and Dante, the friendly body hopper they met in Security Measures - Bodyhoppers

Robin's Egg Brew was located right on the edge of campus so despite its eye roll inducing name (and painfully blue decor), it did good business. It was a minor miracle that Andy had managed to snag a seat at a small table because the place was packed with bodies, and while Andy wasn't the type of guy who minded waiting fifteen minutes to get his order, the crowd did present him with a problem- the person he was meeting up with a body hopper, who could be anyone in the room.

Since their first encounter and the subsequent hookup, Dante had become a friend to Andy and a sometimes fuckbuddy whenever the stars aligned for a three-way with Trevor- although his unusual lifestyle meant that they couldn't get together too often. When they did hook up, it was always with Dante's real body (because Trevor said it would be "hypocritical" of them to take advantage of one of Dante's hops), but when it was just him and Andy hanging out as buddies there was no telling who he'd turn up as.

Normally, Dante would send a quick selfie to let Andy know who to look for, but today he was being strangely evasive and had only given his friend one clue.

💪🏿Dante🐇: You'll know it's me- just look for the hottest guy there.

Andy read the text again, humming thoughtfully under his breath, and took another look around. Seated with his back to the wall he had a good vantage point of the rest of the cafe, and he casually took a sip of his coffee as a cover while he eyed the other patrons and tried to scope out which one his friend was hiding inside of.

He'd seen enough of Dante's "conquests" to have a sense for his friend's taste, so he felt pretty confident he could figure it out on his own. The first thing he did was disregard all the women- Dante had explained that while there were hoppers who enjoyed crossing gender lines, he wasn't one of them. There weren't many older people in the cafe, but Dante liked to stick to his own age demographic anyways, so the few that were present were off the list as well.

It was tougher to thin the field after that. Dante had made his preference for bigger guys clear (his jokes about how he wanted to take Andy's stacked body out for another spin always ended with a "hahaha... unless?") but that still left quite a few options. The easy choice was the burly dude who looked like a lumberjack reading by the window, but he had a waxed mustache and Dante would never. There was a guy from the university wrestling team (still in a form fitting singlet, extra points) who seemed like a promising lead, but he was disqualified after his girlfriend showed up and the two started making out.

Andy was still debating between the chubby dude with glasses waiting in line and the gym rat who had just come out of the bathroom when he felt a hand on his shoulder; he instantly lit up when he saw who it was.

"Trevor!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement at the sight of his skinny little brown skinned boyfriend. He squeezed Trevor's hand tight. "You came!"

"'Course I did," Trevor said, smiling back with all his teeth, then he ruffled his own hair with his free hand. "I wouldn't miss out on a chance to see Dante, Dante's the best."

Andy scooted over and patted the space on the bench next to him, slinging his big arm over Trevor's shoulder the second he was seated and nestling his smaller boyfriend into his side possessively. Sometimes Andy worried that he was a bit too clingy in situations like this, but Trevor pressed in closer, so he figured he was in the clear. He held in his sigh of contentment though- he had to maintain some dignity.

"So, have you found Dante yet?" Trevor asked, leaning his head on Andy's strong chest and letting one of his hands idly rest on Andy's abdomen. Andy shook his head.

"Nah, he's being weird about it this time," he replied, taking another glance around the crowd- the chubby guy he'd had his eye on was walking out with a cup of coffee and the gym rat was racing back into the bathroom with a queasy look on his face, so it was back to the drawing board. "No photo or nothing, just said he was gonna be 'the hottest guy here.'"

"Oh really?" Trevor sounded amused. His hand was drifting up and down lazily like he was petting his Andy's abs through his shirt, which was making it a bit hard for the big guy to keep his head on straight, and Trevor peered up at his boyfriend with one raised eyebrow. "Hottest guy here, huh? Tell me, which one of these guys is the hottest to you?"

"Trev," Andy teased, nuzzling the top of his boyfriend's head "No one here is hotter than you."

And Andy knew Trevor had a thing about PDA, but the little guy looked so cute and the moment was so perfect that he couldn't resist leaning down and stealing a quick little peck on the lips. A brief kiss- but it gave Andy pause.

He pulled back and Trevor smiled at him, but Andy's eyes were searching the familiar features of his boyfriend's face for something. His brow furrowed, then he surged forwards and went back in again for another kiss. The one was deeper and more aggressive, with the big guy practically pinning his twinkish companion into the wall as his tongue quested inside of his mouth, but the lightning round make out session ended abruptly with Andy bolting to his feet in shock and his partner falling flat on the bench.

"Dante?" Andy asked, staring down at the form of his boyfriend with shock, and the 'Trevor' in front of him lifted his head up and gave a snort of amusement.

"Damn, that's it?" Dante said, using two fingers to throw Andy a cheeky little salute. "I thought I'd have you going for a few minutes at least. Being friends with normies is making me lose my touch."

Still sprawled out on the bench, the body hopper took a moment to stretch out his borrowed form (making sure to arch Trevor's back and show off his tight little booty in a way that the real Trevor never would) and Andy awkwardly averted his eyes. Then Dante pushed himself to his feet and slipped around the table to claim the empty chair Andy had been saving for him.

"I wish you could have seen what you looked like when you thought I was actually him," Dante gave a good natured roll of his eyes and gestured for his friend to sit down; speechless, Andy complied. "You practically melted into a puddle of butter. I hate how disgustingly cute you two are, it's indecent."

"You hopped Trevor? My Trevor?" Andy shook his head with disbelief, then leaned forwards on his elbows (flexing his biceps to make sure he looked as big as possible) and lowered his voice a bit. "Look man, you're my friend so I don't wanna accuse you of anything, but I... I thought it was clear that Trevor was off-limits."

Dante just smiled and leaned back in his chair, running his hands down the length of Trevor's slender body like he was smoothing out some clothes- but Andy practically growled at him, so he lifted his hands and held them up in a we cool gesture.

"You can settle down loverboy, Trevor was the one who suggested this. Said it would be fun for you to see him being the one to get snatched for once," the body hopper folded his arms behind his head and glanced sideways at them, frowning at how skinny they looked. "And I agreed even though it meant hopping into a twink, so you're welcome for that."

The two young men held eye contact for a moment, Andy looking like he was debating whether or not to explode as he scrutinized the hopper who had stolen his boyfriend's body, but then he let out a sigh and retreated. His fists unclenched and he relaxed back against the booth, body practically deflating as the bluster abandoned him and the tension bled from his big muscles.

"Okay," Andy said, voice still a bit pinched, and he winced at Dante apologetically. "I mean, I trust you man, it's just... you know..."

"Nah man, it's all cool. I get it!" the body hopper shrugged his ethically borrowed shoulders and gave Andy his most charming smile, batting Trevor's pretty eyelashes sweetly up at the boy's boyfriend. "You don't like people fucking with the love of your life, I respect that."

Dante took great pleasure in watching the way that Andy grew all flustered when he said that (it never stopped being funny that such a big guy turned into a blushing schoolgirl whenever it came to Trevor, homeboy was whipped) and he took advantage of the distraction to snatch his friend's coffee cup off the table and steal a sip of it. Considering the fact that they'd been swapping spit a minute ago, he didn't think Andy would mind.

Andy cleared his throat and gestured to the cup. "I would have gotten you your usual but I didn't know if whatever body you were in would like the taste of black coffee with a bunch of caramel in it," then he paused and wrinkled his nose. "Kinda don't know how you like the taste of that either."

Dante snorted and slid the cup back across the table. "Now I know the man who guzzles lemon ginger ale rum isn't coming for my taste..."

"Oh yeah?" Andy crossed his arms and grinned. "Don't lie, I'll bet you wish you were guzzling shit with my tongue right now. Thirsty motherfucker."

Dante rolled his eyes and flipped Andy off, and then the two men burst out laughing. The shared moment gave Andy permission to relax and clear the doubts from his head- they were just two buddies hanging out as usual, nothing weird about it at all.

"I fucking missed you dude, how've you been?" Dante asked, giving Andy a quick once over. The guy was still as ridiculously hot as ever, and Dante wasn't afraid to comment on it. "You're looking good- maybe too good actually, I bet those muscles are like catnip for hoppers. You been snatched lately?"

Andy grinned- he and Trevor liked to keep his "condition" on the down-low (for obvious reasons) so one of the best parts about having a hopper for a friend was having someone to talk to about this kind of stuff. Though Dante could be pretty cagey about certain aspects of being a hopper, it was clear he was in a similar boat, so whenever the two met up they always had wild stories to share.

"No hoppers actually, but I did get caught out by a ghost the other day, and body swapped with a high schooler," Andy reported, shuddering at the memory of being stuck back in puberty for a few days while the kid was out there guzzling beers. "Also a guy from my chemistry class started messing around with astral projection and was taking me out to clubs so Trevor glued his third eye shut."

Dante sucked in a sympathetic breath and winced. "That sounds exactly like something Trevor would do."

"Yeah..." Andy said softly, and there was a moment where he looked at Dante with this fond look in his eyes before he remembered that he wasn't it real Trevor. Dante pretended not to notice and let Andy recover with a sip of coffee. "How about you, man? Haven't heard from you in a minute, you kinda dropped off the map for a bit."

"I was on tv, if you can believe it," Dante said, nodding cockily as Andy flung his hands up shouted "DUDE!" at the top of his lungs. He inspected the back of Trevor's hand nonchalantly as he spun his yarn. "Managed to hop a guy who was on a reality dating show but didn't realize it meant I'd get sequestered for like a month- coulda hopped out but, well, I wanted to win. I'll show you later, it's on Netflix." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I was totally the fan favorite, made sure they got lots of shots of his big old ass."

"Ah yes, Dante, the biggest ass man I know," Andy teased, and Dante didn't even bother trying to deny it- especially when sitting in front of one of his favorite asses he'd ever hopped. "That's insane dude. And a month- that's a long time for you stay in one guy, right?"

"Yup, set a new record for myself actually," Dante said proudly, grateful for the chance to flex his hopping prowess a bit, and the two fist bumped.

Andy leaned forwards, excited. "Did you win the show?"

"Buddy," Dante raised an eyebrow. "That's a spoiler."

The two chatted for a while, trading a few more stories, complaining about the latest updates to some of their multiplayer games, making plans to watch an upcoming movie- to any onlooker who knew Andy & Trevor, it might have even looked like a normal date between the two boyfriends. It wasn't until later, after the barista called out Dante's name (well, Trevor's name) and he got up to go collect his drink, that Dante caught Andy staring at him with a strange look on his face.

The body hopper stood still for a moment, staring blankly back at his friend from behind the face of his boyfriend, then he sighed and plunked himself down on the bench next to Andy.

"This is weird for you, huh?" he asked, setting his coffee down on the table then leaning back against the booth and looking sideways at Andy. Andy looked like he might try to protest, but Dante decided to be nice and let him off the hook. "I'm not offended, Trevor said it was gonna be a little awkward."

"It's just weird," Andy admitted with a shrug, suddenly struggling to look over at his friend Dante. "Don't get me wrong, I'm cool with you being a hopper, but usually you show up as some random guy I've never met. Seeing it happen to someone I'm so close to, it's..."

His voice trailed off and Andy studied Trevor's face, his favorite face in the whole world, but it wasn't really his boyfriend's face. Trevor didn't squeeze his cheeks like that. Trevor didn't flare his nostrils like that. The look in his eyes was completely different. This wasn't him.

It was especially strange because he'd gotten used to picking out Dante's different little quirks no matter what body he was in, so seeing them plastered onto Trevor of all people just felt... wrong.

And Trevor has to deal with seeing me like this all the time, Andy thought to himself, feeling guilty as he threw another entry onto the giant list of things he felt he owed his boyfriend for.

Emotions played out very visibly on Andy's face and as Dante watched his turmoil, for a second, he felt a twinge of guilt. But he shook it off pretty quickly- a hopper never felt bad about taking someone's body, least of all one they were invited into.

Still, Andy was his friend, so he rubbed his friend on his hulking shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "You know I wouldn't hurt him."

"I know that, you're a cool guy and I didn't mean to-" Andy gestured vaguely at the air with his hands, hoping that his gesture articulated what he felt without words, and Dante nodded his acceptance. Then, curiously, Andy glanced around to see if anyone was listening before leaning in close and nudging Dante on the side. "Look, Dante, I gotta ask... man to man... what's it like in there? How do you feel?"

Dante furrowed his brow- Andy usually held back questions about Dante's lifestyle, so the question came a bit out of the blue. "How do I feel?"

"Sorry, is that like, a racist question to ask a hopper?" Andy winced and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just know you've been in a lot of guys before and since it's Trevor I'm... curious."

"Nah, you're fine, it's just not usually something hoppers talk about much," Dante paused for a moment, weighing his options, and then he shrugged. "But I guess since it's your boyfriend's body, it's only fair."

Andy leaned forwards, not even bothering to hide the way curiosity radiated off of him. Hoppers valued secrecy above all else, so Andy always tried to listen whenever Dante was willing to drop some nuggets of wisdom- and besides, Trevor would definitely want to hear about it later.

Dante rubbed at his chest (Trevor has NO pecs, he thought glumly) and stared into the distance, pondering how to best explain it to a non-hopper. It wasn't something he thought hard about often, and he talked about it still less.

"Did you know that babies are born knowing how to swim?" he began, and Andy looked a bit confused, but this was as simple as Dante was going to be able to make it so he just kept going. "Babies can actually swim really well, but their brains don't hold on to the information so they lose it as they grow up. Hoppers don't forget."

"And humans are like... pools. Anyone can jump into a pool if they know how to swim, but some are gonna be easier to swim in than others," the hopper paused and licked his lips, staring dreamily at Andy's hunky body. "Slipping into you, my friend, is like slipping into a hot tub. You're a spa day. A four star luxury vacation."

Andy crossed his arms and frowned. "Seriously?"

"What? It's a compliment!" Dante gave his friend a shit eating grin, which faded to something a bit more serious a moment later as he looked down at the hands he was currently using. "Slipping into Trevor is like diving headfirst into the Pacific Ocean. I don't know if I'd still be in him right now if he didn't want me here- I gotta give it to him, he's a tough little dude."

"He sure is..." Andy mumbled wistfully, staring at Trevor's body with that puppy dog look in his eyes again, and the moment was getting a bit too sentimental so Dante had to course correct.

"And he's got tight little body too," he said, leaning back and pulling Trevor's shirt up so he could look down at his stomach- while he didn't have crazy abs like his boyfriend, he was flat and had some decent tone to him. "You know that I'm usually all about the big guys but I'm kinda digging how compact everything in here is. I was worried I was gonna feel like a scarecrow but he's not that bad- his butt is a lot bigger than you'd expect too, especially for his frame."

"Trust me, I'm very familiar with Trevor's butt," Andy commented, then he reached over and tugged Trevor's shirt back down protectively. Dante pouted. "And I should have known you were gonna comment on it- if there's one thing Dante's gonna do, it's focus on a guy's butt."

"I can talk about his dick too if it makes you feel better," Dante taunted, then he spread his legs and palmed at the bulge in the front of his pants- Andy looked scandalized, but there was nothing he could do to stop it without risking drawing attention, and the hopper made sure to stare right into his eyes as he toyed with his boyfriend's dick. "It's cute! Not the biggest, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in tenacity. Trevor is horny- I don't know how he keeps the whole 'shy' act up when this thing is practically spring loaded and his balls seem to have some kind of infinite cum hammer space inside of them."

"I know what you mean..." The thought of Trevor's penis stirred up happy memories for Andy, and he smiled fondly. "You know how Trevor and I swapped before we got together? That was the first time I saw his dick and it had me losing my mind- I jacked off three times before I went to go find him."

"See?" Dante squeezed Trevor's privates one more time before releasing them with a grin. "People give hoppers so much shit for messing around with guys, but put one of you inside of a hottie's body and you're exactly the same as us. We're all just after the same things in life."

"Speaking of which..." he said ominously.

Without warning, Dante hoisted himself up and flipped around so he was sitting on top of Andy, straddling his lap and pressing their bodies close together in a completely shameless display of public affection. The real Trevor would never dare to be caught in such a position, which is what made it so fun for Dante- and the look of complete shock on Andy's face was priceless.

"What the fuck Dante?" Andy exclaimed, glancing around wildly to make sure no one was looking. His hands shot out on instinct and curled around Trevor's skinny waist as he tried to stabilize his body so he wouldn't fall, and it only made the scene appear more lascivious, and Dante was living his best life.

"What? Did you think that Trevor let me hop him so the two of us could sit here and complain about patch notes?" The body hopper tilted his head back dramatically and shook out Trevor's hair like a porn star peacocking for the camera, checking to see if anyone in the crowded cafe had noticed them (many of them had and were staring with mixed shock and amusement) then he snapped back up with a wicked glint in his eye. "Nah man, this is business. We're here to bang."

He hammered his point in with his butt, flexing it so the round cheeks would caress the fat bulge they were resting on top of, and Andy's dick (in a Pavlovian response to the feeling of Trevor's body) instantly sprang to attention and tried to fight its way through their pants to get to Trevor's hole.

"Shit man, I didn't think it was possible, but you feel even bigger right now," Dante ground down on the bulge and groaned with delight, drawing even more eyes to them. "Maybe that's one nice thing about being smaller."

"Dante, people are gonna see us," Andy squeaked- he meant to growl, but because of the way his belly was flipping he was lucky he was able to get any words out at all.

"Oh no!" Dante gasped, glancing around with mock surprise, then he turned back to Andy and curled Trevor's face into a smile so lecherous that would never belong to the real boy.

He pressed his hands onto Andy's pecs, savoring the feeling of those huge muscle tits of his through his shirt, and gave them a rough squeeze. Andy groaned, eyes almost rolling back up into his head as he fought to keep himself under control. "

We wouldn't want them to think you're cheating on your boyfriend. Wait-" Dante laughed. "I guess that's not really a problem right now! I guess the bigger problem is they might start to think that your sweet little boyfriend is a shameless whore."

"Actually, do you wanna know a secret?" Dante asked, and he leaned in close to Andy's ear so no one else would hear him. Trevor's dick was fully at attention now and he rutted it lazily into Andy's belly, feeling the ridges of his abs even through multiple layers of clothes, and he let the lust he was experiencing leach into his voice. "I wasn't wearing anything when I hopped him. I'm completely exposed inside of him right now and I've been sitting here this whole time, butt naked behind your boyfriend's face, and no one had a clue. Not even you," he teased, nipping at Andy's ear, and felt the man's massive body shiver. "Kinda feels naughty, huh?"

"Dante-" Andy began, chest heaving with heavy breaths, but Dante placed one Trevor's fingers on his lips and silenced him.

"Shhh," he whispered, unable to resist the urge to milk the moment. "Trevor's gonna kill me when he gets his body back and found out I made him act like this in public but come on, he can't blame me! Doesn't he look so hot like this? Doesn't it make you wanna just rip his pants off and bend him over this table and-"

"Sorry guys," said the mildly irritated looking barista who'd been tasked with interrupting their inappropriate display. "You can't be doing that in here."

Dante schooled his expression and turned over his shoulder to apologize (Trevor would never forgive him if he got them banned from this cafe, and for his own safety Dante liked to stay on Trevor's good side) but Andy beat him to the punch.

"We were just leaving anyways," Andy said, practically throwing Dante to his feet and dragging him out the door in record time. They left their coffees on the table.

---

Like most hoppers, Dante had a somewhat complicated relationship with his own body, especially when it came to sex. He was so painfully average in terms of height, build, and appearance, why bother using his boring old form when he could just go out and find a better one? That was one of the charming things about Andy & Trevor- they wanted to fuck around with him, not just whoever he could be for the night.

(And it didn't hurt that the couple were both hot as fuck.)

But at his core, Dante was still a hopper, and every now and then he managed to talk his fuckbuddies into some well-deserved possession play. Andy was okay with being used as long as he knew what was coming, so Dante would slide inside of him and worship that incredible body of his while Trevor watched.

He and Andy would take turns fucking Trevor, using the big guy's heaven sent dick to plow away at the twink's hole while Dante slipped in and out of the hunk's back, trading off control so Trevor never knew who was the one screwing him. Sometimes he'd even switch positions mid-fuck, pulling out of Trevor and letting the smaller guy take a crack at Andy's juicy ass so when Dante gave Andy control again it felt like he went from the top to the bottom in the blink of an eye. Andy's body really was the ultimate sex toy!

But this was his first time using Trevor, and it was a completely different world. When he slipped into Andy he felt powerful and in charge, a Hercules with a dick to match, but slipping into Trevor was the opposite. Slipping into Trevor made him feel... vulnerable, especially once he was on all fours and there was a giant man rocking up behind him to make him his bitch.

Dante had bottomed for Andy in his real body so he had firsthand experience of what it was like to have all that muscle bearing down on him (not to mention practice taking that giant dick of his), but his body had some healthy inches and pounds on Trevor's body that apparently made a lot of difference because he felt like he might snap in half at any second as Andy bottomed out inside of his borrowed hole.

"You make his ass feel different," Andy grunted, clinging tightly to Trevor's hips and holding still for a moment to give his partner time to adjust before he began rocking back and forth slowly. "Is that crazy to say?"

"Not at all," Dante reassured him, his voice a bit strained as he himself being filled up with inch after glorious inch of Andy. The sensation of that massive tool pressing against his walls was... incredible, and seemed heightened with his new nerve endings. "Your dick- fuck -feels different in his ass than mine."

Andy froze mid-thrust and grabbed at his partner's shoulder, touching concern radiating from his eyes. "Am I hurting you?"

"Actually, I think it's easier as him than as me," Dante admitted- part of why he avoided bottoming in other bodies was that he never knew what the person's limits would be, but he'd been surprised by how eagerly Trevor's hole stretched for Andy (especially considering the size of the battering ram being shoved into him) and how quickly his slender body was relaxing into it. "Your boyfriend is tougher than he looks."

"Oh, good," Andy looked relieved and resumed the motion of his thrusts, but the movements were still slow and a bit tentative. Dante could tell from experience (internal and external) that he was holding back.

The hopper huffed out in frustration- what was the point of Trevor letting Andy fuck him like he fucked his boyfriend if the stud was gonna screw him like a stranger? Seemed like a waste of two hot bodies.

"That all you got?" Dante taunted, glancing back over his shoulder and rolling his eyes at Andy. "I've been inside of that body, I know what it can do. You need me to take over? Because I know I'd do twice as good a job using all that meat of yours to destroy your boyfriend's sweet little ass. I'll do it myself if you aren't feeling man enough."

And there was something very Trevor-like about the way Dante looked while he said that that made Andy grin... because if Dante wanted to get fucked like he was Trevor, Andy could fuck him like he was Trevor. He just didn't know if the hopper was prepared for it.

"Challenge accepted," Andy growled, and he started going at it in earnest, and Dante shut the hell up.

The two fucked hot and heavy for a while, and after a few minutes with Andy going at full force, Dante had to admit that the guy definitely knew what he was doing when it came to Trevor's body. He was hitting all of the right spots (some of which were deep inside him) and he was kind of jealous that Andy never pulled these moves on him when he was in his own body, but he also had his doubts about whether his own body could stand up to him like Trevor's could. He had severely underestimated the durability of this skinny little body- maybe twinks aren't so bad after all.

Trevor's dick was swinging back and forth between his legs as his body shook and Andy reached down and seized it, one of his huge hands teasing up and down its length and squeezing it with just the right amount of pressure, and Dante knew he was a goner. But he wasn't quite done with his fun yet, so the body hopper grunted out a warning to Andy, and then made his move.

Trevor rocketed back into control of his body and barely had a second to process where he was (his bedroom) and what was going on (Andy's dick was in his ass) before the orgasm hit him. There was no time to muffle himself like he usually did so he wound up shrieking wild expletives in Spanish as his cock erupted all over the bed, and he barely had the strength to keep himself propped up on his elbows as his partner continued to plow him all through his climax and kept the pace up even after he'd spilled out every drop of cum in his balls.

"Surprise," Andy's voice rumbled behind him, but Trevor wasn't fooled for a second. The angle of the thrust was all wrong.

"That wasn't fair Dante," Trevor panted- though he was still riding the high of endorphins and it was taking most of his energy just to cope with the feeling of his insides being stretched out, he mustered up the attitude necessary to turn his head and glower at the man topping him. The body hopper gave him a cheeky wink and a slap on the ass before his eyes flicked lower and he got distracted watching the way Andy's giant pecs bounced every time he thrusted.

While Trevor couldn't blame the hopper for looking (it was an impressive sight), he did think it was a bit rude to ogle his boyfriend while actively fucking him, so out of a twisted sense of revenge, Trevor flexed something deep inside himself and made his hole tighten in that way he knew drove Andy wild.

Dante didn't stand a chance. "Holy shit, what the fuck did you-"

Trevor watched over his shoulder as Andy's whole body tensed and the real Dante slipped out of his back, and barely a split second later the climax came. Andy gave a series of deep, guttural groans, his body wracked with pleasure, and Trevor felt heavy pulsing in his ass as Andy's balls emptied into the condom.

Both of them collapsed onto the bed, Andy's softening cock still buried deep inside Trevor as his hulking body smothered his smaller partner, and but he was feeling too boneless to move so he just mumbled out an apology and laid there and let the twink luxuriate in the feeling of being buried beneath a mountain of hot, sweaty muscle.

Dante stood above them, harder than he'd ever been in his life as he stared down at the tangle of debauched men before him, and he only had to jerk his own cock a few times before he was adding his own load to the mess already splattered across the pair. He collapsed on the bed next to them, spent and raw after what was basically the longest orgasm of his life, and watched out of the side of his eye as Andy and Trevor adjusted their positions so they could lie face to face with each other. Andy reached down and brushed Trevor's bangs away from his eyes, and Trevor gently took his hand, and it was all so Disney that Dante could barely watch.

"Fuck!" Dante grunted out, flopping onto his back and talking to the ceiling rather than the sickeningly in love couple next to him, and he grinned with all his teeth. "I've always wanted to try my double orgasm trick with three people, that was insane!"

As soon as he felt like he could move again (look at that, he thought, the body hopper not being in control of his body) he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, looking away so Andy and Trevor could have a private moment together. Instead, he wobbled his way over to their television and pulled out the remote, flipping the screen on and navigating to Netflix.

Trevor caught what he was doing and pushed himself up, away from Andy's embrace, though he kept one hand on his boyfriend's chest as he called across the room towards their hookup with an exasperated look on his face.

"Dante, you're our friend, but no matter how good the sex was I am not watching that shitty reality show you were on," he said flatly, but then Andy nestled his head onto Trevor's shoulder, murmured something into his ear, and the twink relented with a sigh. "Okay, a few episodes, and no one can get mad at me for rolling my eyes."

Dante smiled. It was always fun when the three of them could get together.

[gurugirl]

Forgive Me, Father | Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That night was one of the rare times he masturbated. He'd grown hard in his pants as everyone was leaving and Mrs. Brockton made a show of swinging her hips and with the little hug she gave him on her way out of the door had her pressed against him and he felt lust in his heart.

He felt shame for it and he knew she saw him looking. He hated that his body wanted to have sex. Normally all of his lust would be reserved for his dreams He would wake from dreams where he'd be fucking men and women and coming. He'd dream of having soft lips sucking on his cock or he'd be doing the same. Or he'd wake to find that he wasn't in between a woman's legs licking over her soft parts. In his waking life, he got no action. But in his dreams, he was a sex maniac doing ungodly things.

He'd gone to counsel about his dreams and had been told they were only dreams and that the flesh was fighting the devil inside of him when he was asleep, but as long as he didn't act on it while he was conscious, he would be absolved. It also turned out that other men of the cloth who remained celibate were afflicted with the same type of dreams. Though, Harry knew that his were of a particular caliber, and quite taboo so he never told the clergy of the details.

But now here he sat in Mrs. Brockton's home with her husband gone and she was wearing something that rose up her thigh as she sat. Harry did his best not to notice how pretty she was or how good she smelled. His belly was full of her delicious cooking and now, on his second glass of wine, he began to feel that familiar buzz and he was getting loose. Comfortable.

Mrs. Brockton moved to sit directly next to Harry on the couch and put her hand on his knee. She'd seen how he was looking at her. And once again, her intentions were not pure. She knew Harry was a virgin. She wondered what he looked like under all the clothes he wore. He was slim and tall and seemed to be particularly buff in his chest region with a nice tight ass. She wanted a piece of him.

Harry closed his eyes when he felt Natalie's hand on his thigh, but she acted as if it was nothing while Harry was reeling inside, being the touch-starved virgin he was.

"So, that was the gist of the play we went to. I really think it would have been better if they'd cast Ramuel as Moses instead of Carter. I think Carter did a great job, but he's too young, don't you think?"

Harry was barely listening. He was just trying to work on keeping his boner down. Mrs. Brockton was beautiful and Harry was easy to rile up so her hand on his thigh was sending him. Harry didn’t normally put himself into precarious situations like this for a reason. He wasn’t sure how strong he actually was. He’d been wise all these years to stay away from circumstances that put him alone with someone he felt attracted to. But now, he was here with Mrs. Brockton and she was coming on to him, or so it seemed. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer when his mind started to wander with all the possibilities.

Suddenly he stood up, "I should leave, Natalie. Thank you for the meal and I hope my advice was good."

Natalie stood quickly and grasped Harry's wrist, "Please. Finish your wine first, Harry. It's a really good bottle, expensive, and I would hate to dump the rest. I can't finish the bottle on my own," she stepped in closer looking up at the handsome man, hoping she could persuade him.

Harry sighed and nodded. He could finish his glass of wine as a way to be polite. But he really wanted to leave because he was already thickening in his pants, his imagination was taking him down the dark road toward his lustful, forbidden fantasies.

"Okay. I'll stay and finish my glass. I do need to use the bathroom, however."

The bathroom was in the hallway near the two bedrooms. Harry closed the door behind him and turned the faucet on to drown out the noise of what he was about to do.

He felt he had no choice. He couldn't be sitting in Mrs. Brockton's living room with an erection so he needed to take care of it. It wouldn't have been proper to be around her in the state he was in.

"Father forgive me..." Harry whispered under his breath as he pulled himself out of his pants and spit into his palm. He stroked himself gently and swiped over his tip before spitting down onto his penis again for better glide.

Harry kept one hand on the counter to brace himself as he held his cock in the other. His pants fell to the floor after a couple of minutes of pumping himself and the belt smacked into the tile with a clank.

He was nearly there, almost done when he heard a knock at the door then Natalie’s voice, "Are you okay, Harry? I heard something..." and then suddenly the door was opening, despite Harry having been sure he'd locked it.

Natalie stood in silence as she looked down at Harry's large, swollen cock with his fist wrapped around it. She knew that he had big hands for a reason - the better to hold that large thing with. She stepped in as Harry tried covering himself but it had been too late. She'd seen what he was doing.

"I'm so sorry, Natalie, I was..." but his words were cut off when she lowered her hand to him and put her palm over the stiff cock, and wrapped her fist as much as she could, around him.

"Don't be sorry. Please, Harry..." she dropped to her knees and kept her hand on his shaft as she looked up at him. Her free hand smoothed up his thigh, where she saw a forbidden tattoo. His thighs were well-muscled and thick. She moved her fist over Harry and looked back up at him.

"Please. Let me help. You need relief, Father," and with her eyes on his, she kissed the side of his thick shaft and Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He had been so close to orgasm and now he was suddenly caught in the haze of lust and sin. He knew it would be easy to just let her finish him off.

He was powerless to stop what was happening. It was a dream he'd had for so long to have someone sucking him off. His flesh won out at that moment. He’d never had that kind of opportunity present itself before and he was surprised by how quickly he gave in once her hand was on him. But it felt so good. Better than he realized it would.

And Natalie's mouth was soft and warm and wet and Harry came so fast - as he always did because he was hard up. She slurped his cock and drank him down when he came with a moan and he pressed the back of her head down over him on instinct.

Harry tried apologizing again. He dressed in haste but Natalie assured him he had nothing to worry about with her. He'd only need to ask forgiveness from God but his secret was safe with her as long as her secret was safe with him.

And this led to other, more intimate encounters with Mrs. Brockton. She and Harry had begun a small affair. She took his virginity and taught him how to eat, as she called it. Harry had deep guilt about what he'd done with a married member of his congregation but she seemed to love it. She would even beg him at times. He had a hard time resisting her once he’d gotten a taste.

Soon, Harry learned that he was quite dominant when it came to sex. Mrs. Brockton loved all of it. He'd fuck her in the rectory and the confessional, but usually, it happened in the privacy of his parsonage. He would gag her and bind her to keep her quiet and then have her tied down and spread out so he could fuck her in any way she could take it. Harry particularly got a taste for anal. Natalie had never had her bum fucked before Harry but he was slowly turning into a man who craved and fantasized about sex all the time and he played out some of his unusual kinks with Natalie.

He issued her spankings with his hand and occasionally his flog, which he also used as his punishment for carnal, sinful thoughts, now it was used to whip Mrs. Brockton. He couldn't do it often, though, because Mr. Brockton would have taken note of course.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Brockton wasn't enough. Harry's appetite for the carnal was something unshakable. He'd been introduced to sex in the flesh and not just in his dreams, and now he couldn't have it often enough and with Natalie being married she wasn't available as he needed.

He'd find himself going into Chicago or Milwaukee and meeting women and men at bars. He began experimenting with what he liked and he really liked just about everything. He loved pain and he loved to issue pain. Part of it was because of the guilt he felt and the pain was a way to ask for forgiveness, but eventually, Harry stopped feeling too bad about wanting to have sex. And after a year of exploring, he felt like all the time he’d resisted temptation had been such a waste now that he knew what it was like. Harry was a sexual being but still held onto his spirituality.

He enjoyed being a priest but he also enjoyed being a man who loved to fuck. Loving God and fucking were quite equal in his eyes and now he would not ever be without either. But continuing in his priesthood in this way must change eventually. Harry began to come up with a plan that could have him being a spiritual leader who could also have deranged sex when he pleased.

It took some more years before Harry's plan started to come to fruition. He remained a priest in small-town Wisconsin while he enjoyed his flesh most nights of the week. Once, he had a young woman stay in his parsonage in a small cage, which she did so willingly. Harry would come and go as needed but when he'd return to his parsonage he'd bring his little pet out and fuck her dumb and then put her back in her cage.

Of course, she had a job and she had taken off only a week of work so she could be imprisoned and degraded by the hot priest. So that didn't last because she had responsibilities. But Harry wished it could have lasted forever. He thought how nice it would be to find someone that would want to be his willing captive to cage. To have someone he could keep as his submissive pet and do with as he pleased. He obviously wanted the person to also enjoy the scenario with him, he wasn't a monster. But now it was his goal. To find someone who could be his and whom he could do with as he pleased. A submissive who would never want to leave him.

He'd tried it with various people. At first, they liked it. Some wanted it more than he did. But it was a matter of finding the right one. Someone who he could connect with and feel engaged with and vice versa. He had a young man with him for a few weeks (which was the longest stretch he'd had one person as his pet) but eventually Harry came to realize that he needed something else. Someone else. The young man was lovely and might have been a great submissive companion for years to come, but it wasn't quite it. So he continued his search for the perfect person.

One Sunday during service, Harry caught the eye of a beautiful woman. He immediately imagined her waiting for him in his cage, tied up, blindfolded, red swollen stripes over her back and her thighs from the flog... Someone to keep forever. He tried to push the feelings down as much as he could while he was in the middle of his prayer but she was incredibly alluring.

Many times he did find appealing men and women but after speaking to them for a bit realized they wouldn't be quite fit for the job. It took a very particular kind of person to do the things Harry required. So he intended on meeting this beautiful woman and chatting with her. Typically, he could tell rather quickly if they could be a candidate or not. Normally people were not. Most of the time he settled for a good evening of sex instead when he would have much preferred to have found his companion.

But Harry was also alluring. In fact, once he began having sex regularly more and more people would recognize how attractive and persuasive the priest could be. His confidence increased immeasurably once he began having sex. His charm was undeniable. The man was irresistible to many. But of course, being a priest, most did not know the dark secrets he had. He kept his escapades quiet. Mrs. Brockton knew that he was kinky but they’d long ago stopped their tryst and he could trust her to not say a word to anyone.

The young woman who he spotted during his prayer was near the end of the aisle toward the front and to Harry, it appeared she was alone. The woman took note of how the attractive priest kept looking her way. His light green eyes lingering in her direction, the way at one point after a bit of a gaze he smiled shyly and looked down and she could swear she saw him blush. But of course, Harry was acting. He was putting on a show for her. To draw her in.

And it worked. When the service was over, everyone flocked to Harry as they so often did. The young woman lingered and waited for the crowd to thin before she approached the priest who looked like a god.

Harry saw her coming toward him from his peripheral. He knew she'd come to him. So when he turned to her he acted surprised and flattered that the new girl was coming to greet him.

And she ate up his act, combined with the underlying sensual nature of the way he would lean in to speak and his voice would drop so that only she could hear, the way he'd touch his lips "innocently", and the way his eyes took her in as she spoke, roaming her face and her neck as if to size her up. She felt like the only person in the world at that moment. But he was still very priestly, Godly, at the same time.

Harry decided to take his time with this one. He wanted to invite her over right away for a drink to feel her out but he wanted to play up the godly priest as much as he could. It would be a real test when it came time to learn what she liked. Would his being a priest deter her? If so, she wasn't the one. But, if it only drew her in more, if she was more intrigued by his godliness and still wanted to explore with him then she could be a good fit.

Harry had plans that evening to join a family at their home for dinner. The Sothebys were quite wealthy and Harry very much enjoyed being invited for dinner. They had the most lavish meals with the best wine and bourbon. Harry never drank much but he did enjoy a vintage cabernet sauvignon from time to time, or an aged, smooth bourbon on the rocks.

Tonight’s dinner had been a special occasion, according to Mrs. Sotheby. They had their niece with them to visit from out of town for a while. Harry was given a glass of a cab and directed to sit in the parlor with Mr. Sotheby and his son for a chit-chat while the ladies finished dinner. Harry truly did care for all members of the parish. He loved them and his empathy and kindness toward them were evident. Everyone trusted Harry and he was the best listener. It’s what made him so good at being a priest. Not only did he love God and knew the word well, he understood humans and empathized as a sinner himself. He loved listening to his members and giving advice. He enjoyed praying for them and with them. Despite Harry’s dark secret, his heart was big and he was loving.

When everyone was ushered into the dining room to eat, Harry sat in the spot he normally took closest to the window where the sun would oftentimes be shining in, but on this day, the sky was overcast and there was a cool breeze coming in from the North. Winter was on its way.

Harry had finished his glass of wine as Mrs. Sotheby brought in a tray with Beef Wellington surrounded by roasted vegetables. It looked delicious and Harry was hungry for Mrs. Sotheby’s cooking. And he just knew she must have used prime beef tenderloin in the Wellington because the Sotheby’s did not skimp on the quality of ingredients for all the years he’d been dining with them.

“Father, you’re low on wine. Here, let’s get that taken care of…” Mrs. Sotheby spoke as she turned toward the kitchen, “Y/n!! Please bring that bottle of Caymus with you, hon!”

Nearly fifteen seconds later she was there. Harry’s fantasy girl. He saw her enter the dining room with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bowl of bearnaise in the other.

She didn’t look at him immediately but he knew she was aware of him. She must have been. This dinner was made with him in mind, and it was also welcome for her visit.

Harry remained stoic as he watched her place the bowl down near the large serving platter and then she looked up to let her eyes land on the priest’s. She smiled and he watched her take a deep breath as she rounded the table toward him, “Here, Father… let me top you off,” her sweet voice could almost be tasted. Harry watched her move as she lifted the bottle and poured the red liquid into his glass. Her neck was slender and her jaw was soft and feminine. Her hair was pinned back on the sides, which was different than how she wore it a couple of hours earlier at mass. Harry noted the slight natural blush over her cheeks and he thanked her when she placed the bottle down on the table.

Harry was pleased when she sat next to him. She didn’t speak much but ate her food and smiled throughout. Harry noted she only had one glass of wine and that she seemed a tiny bit nervous. He wondered if he should address her nervousness with her in private or not. He was searching for any excuse to speak to her alone.

Dinner was amazing. Harry had his tummy full and two glasses of wine during dinner and then afterward a glass of bourbon on the rocks as he normally did. The men sat in the parlor once again to chat and wind down as the women cleaned up. But Harry didn’t like this setup anymore. He enjoyed chatting with Mr. Sotheby and his son, but he wanted to see Y/n and assist in clean up, like the gentleman that he was.

“I think I’d like to help clean up the kitchen with the ladies if you don’t mind, gentleman,” Harry spoke as he got up from the cushy seat.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Sotheby and Y/n were giggling about something and wrapping the food when Harry entered. Y/n quickly turned to see him and her eyes widened when she looked at Mrs. Sotheby. Both women stopped what they were doing and looked at one another with a secret in their eyes.

“Father, what can I help you with?” Mrs. Sotheby rang out as she continued her task.

Harry strode into the room casually with the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing, “I’m here to help, ladies. Felt wrong to let you two do all the clean up when you’ve also cooked everything and made this dinner possible. The least I can do is help out.”

Harry began to roll up his sleeves as he walked toward the sink, intent on washing some dishes and assisting in the best way he could.

“That’s really not necessary, Father. We love having you join us. I know you always insist on helping but truly, I’ve got Y/n here with me now and I think you should enjoy your conversation with Hank.”

Harry looked toward Y/n and she was wrapping up the vegetables with a small, shy smile on her face as she looked down. Adorable, he thought. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink and turned to look at Mrs. Sotheby, “I knew you’d say that. But I’d rather serve than sit.” Harry loved using corny sayings like that. His congregation ate it up and they always thought of Harry as someone who loved telling a good dad joke here and there. And he did. He enjoyed his dual life and cherished both of his sides.

When the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean, Harry finished off his glass of bourbon and prayed with the family before leaving. He had everyone stand together in a small circle and hold hands, being sure to stand near Y/n. Her fingers were cold in his large palm but he cupped her hand in his securely, occasionally loosening and then tightening around her fingers.

The prayer was a quick one but the feel of Harry’s hand around Y/n’s had her heart pounding. Harry’s work there was done. He’d eaten a good meal, had plenty to drink which would put him right to sleep, got to watch sweet Y/n blush and listen to her speak on various topics from time to time, and got her a bit flustered as well even though he hadn’t really done much. She seemed to fit his type quite perfectly.

He would have much preferred to have brought her to his bed to play with her at the end of the night, but he knew he needed to suss her out first. She was, after all, a niece of someone wealthy in the congregation and he couldn’t just go off and fuck her and then invite her to be his submissive companion. The work of getting the right one was a slow, arduous process that couldn’t be rushed. Especially when it came to someone that might be attending his services. He’d like her as a pet immediately but he could be patient to be precise in his actions.

The following week at mass Y/n was there again. Harry was happy to see her pretty face amongst the congregation and she kept her eyes on him as he spoke. Harry used his incredible self-control to not look her way as often as he wanted. And his self-control was certainly a thing he used in many circumstances. He was, after all, a man who’d abstained from sex for 30 years and who barely allowed himself to masturbate. But now, he’d been having sex for nearly three years and he no longer abstained from it or masturbation. But his self-control was still incredible and so not looking toward Y/n was not that difficult.

Harry had wanted to reach out to her during the week, an excuse to talk to her under the guise of giving her advice or counsel if she chose. But he stopped himself during the few moments of weakness in his mind. It also helped that he had a woman in his parsonage with him for a few days the week after meeting Y/n. So he wasn’t hard up, but he did think of Y/n every day, which was not his norm. The woman was meant to stay longer but Harry dismissed her Sunday morning before mass. They’d had their fun together, but Harry was not interested any longer. He was interested in Y/n now.

When service had come to an end, Y/n left quickly, which put a frown on Harry’s face. He spoke with his members and prayed with them as he always did and when he was invited to dinner with the Fortanels, he declined this time. He wanted to find Y/n and perhaps have a moment with her. He would never get anywhere with figuring out anything about her if he didn’t try to have contact with her.

So he did what any man would do who wanted to get to know a woman he was interested in, he called her. Not her directly, but he dialed the Sotheby’s number and asked to speak with Y/n when Mr. Sotheby answered the call, “Hi. It’s Father Harry here. I just wanted to see if I could speak with Y/n for a moment. I felt something in my heart that needed to be said to her today and I couldn’t find her after mass this afternoon.”

When Y/n spoke into the receiver Harry couldn’t stop his smile from taking over. He told her something he made up as his reason for the call and asked her if she’d like to join him the following evening for a small prayer group that he held on Mondays in his parsonage. Of course, Y/n was quick to say yes. She was intrigued by the handsome priest.

That evening, Harry didn’t have one of his regulars come over for a night in his bed as he normally would. He resorted to what many single people do, masturbation. He thought of Y/n’s smooth skin and her lips, her big round eyes, and her shy demeanor. On the very surface she seemed like a good candidate, but how could he know if she truly would fit into Harry’s world the way he wanted until he got to know her better?

Before the prayer meeting, where there would only be three others in attendance, Harry set up his room, put away his flog and ties, covered the cage, and locked his bedroom door for good measure. Then he set up the living space where everyone would sit, knowing that two of those coming were a couple and would sit next to one another, which meant Y/n would inevitably be sitting next to Harry. He readied coffee and pulled out two bottles of wine and lit a candle. It was his typical setup. Harry’s home was very plain. He didn’t have many things to clutter the space. Only a few pictures of his family from London and one or two knick-knacks that had been given to him over the years. His wooden floors had a large carpet covering the center and the furniture he used had been there when he moved in.

Y/n arrived first. Harry had a feeling she would. She was shy and smiley and polite off the bat. Harry ushered her in and gently put his hand on her low back, just the slightest touch. He didn’t want to seem like a creep. But with the way she blushed, he knew she liked it. She accepted a glass of wine and sat in one of the chairs Harry had put in the circle.

“Is there anything you’d like to speak with me about one-on-one before the other two arrive, Y/n?” Harry tilted his head and looked at the young woman with his own glass of wine in hand as he sat next to her.

“Oh, well, I think I would like to talk about something. Um…” but before she could continue there was a knock at the door to indicate the others had arrived. Harry gave her a disappointed look, “Stay after the meeting with me and we can talk about it then,” he spoke as he got up to open the door for the new arrivals.

Everyone had their fill of coffee and wine during the hour-long prayer meeting. Half of the time was taken up by Arthur speaking about his concern for the state of the world. Usually, the prayer meetings would include discussion and then prayer based on what was discussed, this time was the same. Y/n barely spoke but Harry could sense her eyes on him for most of the meeting. They sat next to one another in the small little circle and when they ended with prayer Harry took her hand in his and like the time before when he’d held her hand in prayer, he loosened and tightened his grip around her hand slowly, like a comforting squeeze. But when Y/n suddenly squeezed his hand back Harry smiled to himself as he continued speaking his prayer. Her squeeze was not subtle, and neither was the way she used her thumb to gently drag it along the inside of his palm.

When the couple left, finally, Harry and Y/n sat back in their respective spots next to one another and Harry prompted her to continue where she left off earlier.

Y/n’s cheeks were wine flushed, but she was not drunk, just cozy and warm. She licked her lips and sat up straight as if she was called on in school to answer the question in front of the class. She wiggled her bottom in her seat and cleared her throat, “I have been thinking of going to confession but I haven’t made it yet because it’s so hard to admit sometimes when I’m in sin. I’m here with my aunt and uncle because of things I did back home. Things I was interested in and it’s awful and embarrassing but I’m hoping here I can become new again and move on from my old ways.”

Harry rolled his lips into his mouth and squinted at Y/n as she spoke. He didn’t know of her past, “Tell me, dear. What have you done? You can skip going to the confessional if you do it here with me. It’s the same really. I’d be the one listening to your sins anyway. I won’t judge you. That’s not for me to do.

He was very curious as to what she’d done that led her to move in with her aunt and uncle temporarily and get away from her hometown. She was an adult who could have made her own choices and gone to any town, but she chose to come here to get away from whatever it was she’d done.

Y/n laughed and looked at her lap where her hands were clasped together before she lifted her head to put her gaze on the priest, “Sexual sin. I’ve had sex and I know I should wait for marriage, but it’s so hard because it feels so good. It feels like God wants us to have sex often, he made us to enjoy it, right? And that’s my problem. I just like it and I don’t feel as guilty about it as I should,” she looked back down and bit her lip. Her cheeks were especially pink now. From embarrassment or shame.

Harry was very interested. The girl was into sex and admittedly so. But who wasn’t really? Most of his congregation came to him for sins of lust when it came time to confess. There were hardly any virgins amongst his members, not even the ones who were single and publicly claimed to be.

“Your feelings are normal, dear. Sex is a very important part of how we express love and pleasure and it’s hard to deny ourselves of the flesh at times. We are all guilty of the sin of lust. Most humans are not free of that burden,” Harry kept his eyes on the girl and watched as she shook her head. She turned to look up at Harry again.

“Well, yes, Father. That’s true. But my problem is deeper I think. It’s not just the sin of lust and premarital sex, it’s sexual deviancy,” she whispered the word deviancy like it was a bad word, “I like things most people do not and it’s frowned upon, especially as a Christian. It’s part of why I moved here. I was found out,” she wrung her hands together in her lap and closed her eyes and sighed before she opened them back up to continue, “I was caught with a married man. He’d left me tied to his bed thinking his wife was going to be gone for the day. But she returned while I was there on her bed and now I’m here. Trying to be better.”

Harry was silent. He didn’t know how to respond to this beautiful young woman admitting to him the things she just had. And so openly. He wanted to ask her more about what she liked but felt that would be too much too soon. Inappropriate in fact. But he was bursting to know.

“I see. Look, we all have things that are hidden and dark. We do our best to deal with them in the kindest way we can in this life. The best thing you can do is to be kind to yourself. Don’t doubt you’re a wonderful person just because you have a preference for certain things,” Harry put his hand on her shoulder to emphasize his words. And he meant them. He always felt humans were too hard on themselves when it came to sins of lust and sex. He obviously had a soft spot for those who had lustful sin.

He watched Y/n as she leaned her head to the side toward where Harry’s hand was placed on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and stretched her neck toward his hand but then opened her eyes and looked at the priest, “Thank you, Father. That makes me feel so much better. It’s worse really, than just what I said but I’m too embarrassed to tell you more. I’m sure you’d cast me out like the devil if you knew,” she laughed and smiled at the man. His clear, bright eyes were on hers intently and they were beautiful. His smile revealed dimples on his cheeks and the bit of scruff on his face was so attractive that Y/n forced herself to not imagine what it would feel like being scraped against her face, or in between her thighs.

Harry noted how her gaze lingered on his. The way she looked at his mouth and how she looked desperate a little. The poor thing was probably trying to be good but deep down she just wanted to be bad. But to Harry, she was beginning to fill in all the little boxes he needed to have checked in order to find the right one. He couldn’t know for sure just yet, but he’d continue to find out more about her and make a determination soon. He just needed more time. He wanted to do this right.

Before she left they had agreed upon a schedule for Harry to counsel her and pray with her for her sins. They’d meet together every other day in his parsonage for as long as she needed. Which was just perfect for Harry. He’d get to look at the cute thing as she confessed her dark deeds to him and he’d lead her in prayer and with guidance. And Harry knew she found him attractive. Most people did really, but with Y/n, it excited him in a way he hadn’t been excited about in a long time.

At their first one-on-one meeting, Y/n had withdrawn a bit into herself. She seemed down and gave the priest very little information like she had the first night after their prayer meeting. He wondered if the wine had been a factor in the way she so honestly expressed herself that night. He’d need to work on that with her. Relying on alcohol as a way to feel more expressive and comfortable was worse to Harry than it was to have sex outside of marriage.

He still gave her gentle advice, prayed with her, and kissed her forehead before she left. He could tell she was struggling. But he could see how she was looking at him when he’d speak, how she kept crossing her legs and would squeeze her thighs tightly together, her flushed cheeks, and that was all he needed to know that she was aching for relief. Perhaps she was so overwhelmed with need and lust that she was pushing herself to close up. Which was probably a normal reaction. Harry had gone through the same when he first fought with himself to stop his sudden need to have sex. He would be patient with her.

In their following meeting, Harry was armed with a bit more information. After she left their one-on-one meeting he decided to search for her on social media. She had a pretty decent presence online. She was popular, had a lot of friends back home, and seemed like a normal young woman as far as he could tell. But then the further he dug he found some people who had mentioned her in their posts. Particularly one woman who seemed to greatly dislike her.

He came to find out that the man that Y/n had been caught with was this woman’s husband. She dragged Y/n and exposed her secrets in detail online. According to the woman, her husband had been seduced, and then he tied her to the bed as he left to go get help which is when the wife arrived home, as the man was out “getting help”. He learned that Y/n was completely naked in their bed where she was tied at the wrists and ankles. She had marks over her thighs, her stomach, and her back, likely from being spanked, but the wife posed that Y/n had done it to herself as a way to make everyone feel sorry for her.

This said a few things to Harry. First, was that he believed Y/n and that when she said she’d been seeing the man it was likely not the first time they’d been together, nor the first time she’d been tied to his bed and spanked. And with the man having gone to “get help” it was more likely part of their play and he was leaving her as punishment. Y/n liked to be punished.

Harry was thankful for social media but he was also angry that her secrets had been exposed in such a heartless way. Of course, the woman thought that her husband was totally innocent, but that’s Christian society for you in a nutshell, putting all the blame on the woman and absolving the man. Harry tried to lead his congregation in a way that allowed for empathy and love no matter what. He would have been pissed at any of his followers if they had ousted a fellow member in this way.

Y/n was quiet at first when she arrived at their second one-on-one meeting. But her face looked brighter this time and she seemed to be more talkative after a little bit of Harry nudging her in the right direction. He wouldn’t tell her about what he knew. He hoped that she’d tell him in her own time, though. And she did. Not at that meeting but the following week she’d poured her soul out to him.

Of course, it didn’t just happen that she handed the priest all of this information out of the blue. The lead-up during their meetings had given her the boost she needed to tell him of all her sins.

There were a lot of longing gazes from Y/n’s end and Harry would give her soft touches and sly grins. Harry would allow himself to work his eyes down over her face and to her neck as she spoke, purposely letting her see how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He’d rub her shoulders and speak quietly into her ear even though it was just the two of them in the living area of his parsonage. He admitted to her how he would sometimes wake from dreams of feeling lust and the need to repent himself. He brought up his flog even to see her reaction and react she did.

When he described to her how some mornings he’d wake from a sexual dream he’d flog himself to calm his nerves and he watched as her breathing picked up. She watched his lips as he spoke and he’d often catch her drifting her gaze downward towards his lap. He knew she wanted more from him but she’d never attempt it with the holy priest. Which was precisely what he hoped. He needed her to first see him as a leader and a holy man. He’d soon reveal his other persona when the time was right. If it was ever right.

So, on the day that she finally broke down and told him all of her sins it was like a weight was lifted from her. She paused between breaths and composed herself as she spoke but she got everything out and Harry couldn’t have been more enamored. She was perfect.

“I was accused of seducing that man, Tom, and then his excuse for tying me there was to stop me from tempting him while he went to get help. Which is ridiculous because look at me, I’m no match for any grown man. He didn’t need help,” she sighed and laughed in a scoff, “You see, he’d left me there so he could go run an errand. We had a thing where he’d tie me up and leave me after punishment, like spanking me and smacking me, and well, anyway… I like that sort of thing. I like being punished and worse really. It’s embarrassing when I’m speaking to you like this but I feel good to be able to say it out loud.”

She continued and Harry watched her as he took his forefinger and lightly rubbed it over his lips, up and down. He purposely gazed at her and allowed his features to soften over her face and she noticed the way he was looking at her. She would pause frequently when she took note of the look of hunger on his face but would shake her head as if to tell herself to snap out of it.

“He told everyone that I’d beat myself. My bottom, my back, thighs, everything. But he did it. No one believed me. It’s crazy that he tied me to his bed while I was naked with large handprints all over my body and a tie over my eyes so I couldn’t see and yet, people thought he not only didn’t put his hands on me but that he tied me to the bed with my legs spread apart with his sperm literally dripping from me in order to go get help,” her laugh was unamused. “They all believed him. They thought I beat myself and stripped nude and masturbated in his bed and that he had to tie me down with my legs open and put something on my eyes as a way to restrain me.”

But she didn’t stop her confession, “And I’ve done that before with others too. I like it. Being captive, being punished. I don’t know why I like it; I just do. Makes me feel so vulnerable and needed. Like I’m so wanted that they keep me tied down so I can’t leave. I know I shouldn’t like that or want something like that. It’s awful. It probably sounds like I’m completely deranged. I guess I am a little. But I do feel better after talking with you this past week. You’ve helped me a lot Father, and I’m glad I met you.”

Harry was willing away his erection. He’d abstained from having sex since he’d started these little sessions with Y/n. Not from masturbating, but from sex with others. And he was feeling excited at her full confession. She could be just what he needed. He could be just what she needed.

“Thank you for being so honest and open with me, Y/n. This is a step in the right direction. What we say to one another here will remain between just us. Won’t it?” Harry lifted his brows as he moved her hair from off her shoulder to behind her ear. She stiffened at his touch and her mouth parted for a moment before she nodded at the priest.

“Good. We are all sinners, dear. There’s not one of us better than the other,” Harry kept his voice low as he spoke.

Y/n smiled and spoke, “Well, except you, Father. You’re a holy man and better than anyone I’ve ever met. I can just feel it all around. You exude love and compassion. You listen so closely to everyone and you remember everything about them. You’re such a good soul with a wonderful heart. I can only hope to be like you one day.”

Harry nodded with a grin, “You are like me already, Y/n. You don’t know everything about me. I’m a human man. I am still a sinner and that’s what makes me so compassionate toward others. Because we are all in this world struggling to do what is right. Some of us have a worse time with sin than others. Sometimes you might be surprised at what kinds of sin a priest might have hidden.” Harry watched her face closely. Her gaze on him still indicated longing and need. She was very attracted to him, and Harry knew it. He could have probably taken her then to his bedroom and done very awful and wonderful things to her and made her his at last. But he refrained. He had to follow his plan accordingly. She was so close to being a perfect fit for him. He just needed to be sure she was the one.

The day of the following meeting was chilly and windy and cold. A winter storm seemed to be coming in and Harry had considered telling Y/n to stay home but before he had the chance to call the Sotheby’s she was already at his door, bundled up in her winter coat with a scarf around her neck and a wool cap on her head. Her nose was red and she wasn’t wearing gloves. Harry pulled her in and the wind from outside wafted into his warm parsonage. Harry hadn’t prepared for her quite yet, as it was about an hour before she was due to arrive. He had a few things strewn about, nothing crazy but he always liked to tidy before he had guests.

He closed the door behind her and stood in front of her to begin unwrapping her scarf from her neck in silence. She looked up at him with her big, sweet eyes and Harry looked down at her while he pulled the scarf off, a grin on his face. She just stood and smiled back up at him as he undid her coat, and pulled it off her shoulders, hanging it by the door on the coat hook. She stayed quiet watching him. He found it a little odd but he didn’t mind the new interaction. It’s how he’d want to treat her if she were his. He’d help her undress and take care of her. She liked it too he could tell.

Harry looked down to see she hadn’t worn gloves so he took her hands into his and rubbed over them before putting his mouth to his hands cupped around hers and blew warm air over her fingers. She sighed and smiled up at him. That smile was going to kill him. He repeated blowing warm air over her hands a few times until his lips met her fingertips and he pressed the tiniest kiss to the pads of the fingers under his mouth then he laughed a breath through his nose and plucked the wool cap from her head, “There you go. Feel better? Want me to make you some tea?”

Harry saw it written all over her face. She didn’t want tea, or anything to drink. She didn’t want him to be nice to her. She wanted something she was too scared to ask for but she smiled and nodded because of her naturally submissive manner, “Yeah. Hot tea could be nice, Father.”

Harry smirked down at the lovely girl and smoothed her hair a bit. It had gotten staticky from the way he’d pulled the cap from her head. She laughed shyly when she realized what he was doing and then she followed him to his kitchen.

When they passed into the kitchen Harry realized he hadn’t closed the door to his bedroom since he hadn’t been prepared for her yet. There wasn’t anything too revealing lying out, except his flog at the end of the bed, but he wasn’t sure if she’d seen it or not.

He made tea and they sat in the little kitchen together and made small talk.

“You arrived early. I hadn’t expected you to come yet,” Harry said as he looked down at his mug and then back up at the beautiful young woman.

Y/n nodded, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to miss the chance of coming by for a bit. The weather channel made it seem like the storm would be very bad and I wondered if I waited too long I might not have been able to come here at all. Sorry.”

Harry reached a hand out to place over Y/n’s and tsk’d at her, “Don’t be sorry, dear. I’m happy you came. I was going to call you and cancel because it does look like a bad one coming. It’s already started to snow,” he looked over her shoulder and out the window where white snow was blowing wild in the air with the wind.

One tea turned into two and then Y/n asked Harry if they could pray together, “I’m feeling very particular today. It’s a hard day for me. I’ve been trying to keep my thoughts on God and do what I know is right but I can’t seem to get it straight in my mind. My sinful thoughts are very strong today.”

“That’s good that you told me. We all have hard days. It’s better to be honest about everything than it is to hide it. Hiding it only makes the longing worse,” Harry wanted to stop the façade himself. His longing was getting worse as well. And now that she was here with him alone, the ominous storm approaching, and his neglected cock that he hadn’t had a chance to take care of before she arrived (another thing he hadn’t gotten to due to her early arrival, something he always took care of before she came), he wanted to take care of both of their needs, their longings.

“Is it a hard day for you, Father? I saw the flog on your bed when we passed your room. You told me before how you use it to atone for your sinful thoughts,” she bit her lip after asking and looked at him with round eyes.

Harry nodded with a smile, “You saw that then. Yes. Today is a hard day. And every day before this one as well,” was all he gave her.

Harry took her hands in his and they prayed, bowing their heads over the small table. And like every other time they held hands in prayer, they gently touched and squeezed at the other, a silent bid for something more that had gone unspoken. But it was never quite enough for Y/n to believe it meant more than just a man being kind and loving.

When they released their hands Y/n felt lighter again. She loved it when Harry prayed. It was like he helped wipe her sins away with his words and encouragement. But she wondered if there was more that could be done.

“Father Harry?” She asked with his eyes already on hers. He nodded at her to continue, “Yes?”

She swallowed and looked out of the kitchen toward where his bedroom was, “What is it like to be whipped with the flog? Do you feel atoned when you’re done? Does it feel like the pain takes away your sins?”

Harry’s heartbeat was rapid. There was a definite shift in the way Y/n was today than she had been at any of the other meetings. It was very subtle but she was different today. Needy.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder toward his room and then back to Y/n, “Sometimes it does feel like it helps me repent. But other times it's part of the sin.”

Y/n was silent as she took his words in. She cocked her head to the side and squished her brows together in confusion, “Part of the sin? What does that mean?”

Harry took a deep breath and reached a hand out to take one of Y/n’s in his. He looked down at her hand with a faint smile on his face before looking back into her pretty eyes, “It means sometimes it has nothing to do with atonement or being repentant. Sometimes I enjoy the pain.”

Y/n watched as Harry grazed his thumb over her knuckles and spoke without looking back into Harry’s eyes, “Would you… maybe flog me? Show me what it feels like? Maybe it can help me feel better about my sinful nature.”

Harry looked out the window and he couldn’t see beyond the white flurries. The wind was harsh and he could hear the whistle of the gale as it forced its way into the cracks of the glass panes. He put his eyes back on Y/n and she was still looking down at where her hand was in his.

“That would require you to remove some clothes. I don’t know that you’d feel comfortable with that in front of me,” Harry was getting heated. He was imagining the way the whip would bite into her skin. Not too hard, but just enough that she could really feel it and it would leave a mark. Or two. Or three.

Y/n shot her eyes up to Harry’s and nodded, “I would be okay with that. Would you? 

Harry smiled, wider than he intended. This was exactly what he wanted. This was a step toward what he’d felt was necessary for his plan. She was asking him.

Her pupils were blown out in her eyes already, and her mouth parted. She wanted to be flogged but not to atone for her sins. She liked it and he knew she would. She also understood the probable implications of her request after she’d already admitted to him how much she enjoyed a bit of pain, spankings, and punishment. But she couldn’t help herself. And she could play it off as if she only meant to use it as a way to repent if he declined or called her out.

But Harry wouldn’t call her out. He would go along with her in this as long as she wanted. They could both easily play it off, yet they both would understand what was actually going on. It would be a way to ease into what was coming. Harry was quite pleased.

“Okay, my dear. If that is what you want. We’ll go to my room. I have a set up for you to hold onto while I flog your back for repentance.”

Y/n hadn’t expected Harry’s room to be livelier than the rest of the house. His bedroom revealed more of his personality than the rest of the parsonage did. The set-up Harry referred to was a bar hung from the ceiling with cuffs at each end. There was art hung on the walls, a bookshelf stuffed with books, a dresser with jars atop, and a lamp. His bed was large and looked comfortable. And of course, in the corner of the room was a large item covered with a sheet that went nearly to the ceiling and was probably eight feet wide and eight feet long.

“What is that, Father?” Y/n pointed toward the covered item in the corner and walked toward it.

Harry stopped her midway, “That’s just something I use for a hobby of mine. Let’s get to it shall we?” He redirected her away from the cage that had gone unused for longer than Harry liked.

Harry took the flog in his hand and turned to Y/n, “You’ll need to take your sweater and anything underneath off for this. You can face away from me so I don’t see anything if you’re more comfortable with that. And you can decide if you want your hands in the cuffs to restrain you, or if you’d just like to hold onto them. While you remove your sweater, I’m going to clean this,” and he left the room to sanitize the flog. He had used it on himself only that morning and even though he didn’t cut himself deep enough to bleed, he still found it necessary to clean before using it on Y/n.

Harry took his time to get into the smooth leather and wipe all around the parts with warm soapy water. Then he used alcohol wipes over the flog to finish it off. And before he entered the room he took a moment to breathe and calm himself. He was half hard in his pants with the images that ran through his brain. When he felt somewhat settled he returned to the room to see Y/n with her hand over her breasts facing him.

Harry couldn’t help himself from trailing his eyes down her frame and over her skin and to the swell of her soft breasts which she’d hidden only partly from his view. When he looked back at her face he realized she looked happy and excited even. He swallowed heavily as he walked toward her.

“Wrists in the cuffs or just holding onto them?” He asked her as he put the flog down on his bed.

“I’d like them inside the cuffs. Please,” she smiled and Harry nodded. He had a feeling she’d want to be properly restrained.

Harry closed his eyes at the, please. He was going to have to restrain himself from ravishing her. Because he knew she wanted that. He knew she’d beg him and want whatever he gave her. He swallowed again before walking toward her where she stood near the bar.

“I won’t look, but I have to assist you in putting your wrists in here. Lift up.”

Y/n removed her palms from over her breasts and raised them toward the bar. Harry concentrated on not looking down as he secured her wrists in place. Self-control was something he was not rivaled in. As much as he desired to look down over her skin and peek at her nipples and soft breasts his will to control himself was stronger. He had a presence to maintain.

“Father, why do you have this in your bedroom if you are unable to use it without assistance?” Y/n’s voice was small and cautious. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but she was too curious to not ask. Harry knew she would.

Harry smirked and looked at her in the eyes, doing well to not drop his gaze to her tits, “For just this very purpose, Y/n. Sometimes others request a flogging too. I help them.”

Both of Y/n’s wrists were secured in the cuffs after Harry’s careful adjustments of the Velcro. She was bare on the top, wearing only jeans on her bottom half. Harry slowly walked behind Y/n and picked up the flog from his bed. The flog he used was black and thin with a single leather strip, knotted at the end. The handle was braided leather, perfect for gripping onto.

Her back was smooth and clear. So pretty, it was almost a shame that she wanted it marked up. Almost. Harry gulped down his saliva and before he could begin he stepped in close to Y/n and stood behind her, craning his neck down to speak near to her ear.

“This will hurt a bit. I won’t break the skin but it’s going to bruise and feel very tender. Tell me to stop if it’s too much for you,” he could smell her shampoo from this proximity. She turned her head to the side towards his face and nodded. He could tell her breathing had deepened. He gently swept her hair from her back and pushed it over her shoulder to the front so that her back was unobstructed. He kept close to her, looking down at her neck as he did so, his fingers ghosting over her neck.

Harry stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, “Speak with me a prayer of forgiveness, Y/n,” he closed his eyes and waited a moment before beginning, “Lord God, please look at my sins and mistakes with a merciful eye and forgive me.”

Y/n repeated the words and Harry landed the flog onto her back for the first time, a strike that caused her to inhale a sharp gasp and squeeze her eyes closed. It shocked her system and her body jolted forward. She gasped for air as soon as the sensation dulled on her flesh and turned into a hot sting across her back.

Harry continued, “I confess to you Almighty God that I have sinned.”

Y/n spoke the words and braced herself for the next stripe to her back. It came from the opposite shoulder this time, and downward toward her spine. She grunted and fell forward, her nails digging into her palms, as she endured her second hit.

“My mortal sin is that of lust. My flesh has been weak and I have given in to temptation.”

Her words were spoken in a softer voice, but still clear and with determination. Harry smiled as he issued her another strike. Once again, Y/n was swung forward, her head dropping downward and she gasped in a small yelp, clenching her jaw when the new lash crossed the middle of her back.

Harry watched as her smooth skin turned red, a raised welt left in the path of the leather. As promised, he did not break the skin, but it was tender and it was going to be sore.

“For this sin and all sins that I have committed in my life, I am seeking repentance.”

Y/n’s voice came out shaky. Harry watched as her arms quivered as she tried holding herself up. It had only been three strikes and she was already quite fatigued; he could tell. Harry repeated raising the flog and bringing it down in a quick motion over the center of her back near her spine.

This time Y/n crossed her legs together and gasped in a breathy pitch as she put most of her weight on her arms and wobbled forward slightly. Harry couldn’t see her breasts but he knew the sight would have been glorious.

Harry wondered if it was too much. He watched her body for a moment as she regained her composure, “Y/n, are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

She was quick to shake her head, “No, Father. Let’s finish the prayer. Please. I need it.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. There it was again, the, please. He enjoyed this. He imagined how it felt on her skin, he knew the sting and burn well. He could almost taste it in his mouth, the pain of the lashings. And it was a good taste. He bit down and clenched his jaw in satisfaction with the moment.

“Count these stripes as my penance, oh Lord God, you who are all good and deserving of my love and devotion.”

It took a moment for Y/n to repeat the words but when she did Harry realized it then. It was in her breathy voice, the way her back was arched and ready for the next hit, and how she crossed her legs with the last lashing, still squeezed together, thighs clenched.

With a smile, Harry brought the leather down onto her flesh again and to his delight, the sound that left Y/n’s mouth was a moan. A sound typically dedicated to the result of something pleasurable happening.

“I resolve with the help of your grace to keep my eyes on you, Holy Father. Amen.”

Harry listened to the way Y/n spoke her words in a slow breathy voice. Her neck was draped downward and her arm muscles were straining against her weight. She was enjoying this. Perhaps in the same way Harry did.

The sixth and final lash on her back drew a louder moan out of her mouth. After she shifted forward she lulled her head to the side and Harry could see her mouth was open. Her breaths were labored, heavy.

Harry put the flog down and stood behind Y/n, gently placing his hands on the back of her ribs, “Y/n, no more lashings. Now listen to my words of forgiveness and then you’ll say for his mercy endures forever.”

She nodded and hummed and pushed herself up to stand fully on her feet. Harry kept his hands lightly on her back and looked down at her neck, as he spoke his absolution in a voice barely above a whisper, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good.”

“For his mercy endures forever,” her voice was surer now, still breathy but less shaky.

Harry was tempted to dip his mouth down onto the curve of her neck and press his lips on the small freckle that he saw under her jaw. She still had her neck bared to him, her head hung to the side and Harry wondered if she was doing it on purpose, exposing her neck to him. Offering herself to him in a way. He would need her to verbalize it if so.

Harry leaned down, his hands ghosting down her sides as he put his face closer to her neck but he didn’t allow his lips to touch her skin, “You did very good, Y/n. I’m going to release you now.”

Harry removed each wrist and stayed in his spot behind her. He remained close and Y/n made no attempt to move from her spot. She turned her head to the side and Harry could see her profile, blinking, a smile on her face. If she turned further she’d be able to see his face but there was the chance that her breasts would be in view.

“Thank you, Father,” Y/n spoke in a soft whisper as she lifted her hands to cover her breasts and turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder.

Harry didn’t move from his spot as he looked over her face slowly. He didn’t let his gaze drop below her shoulders. She wasn’t his to ogle. Not yet anyway. But he could recognize that she was beautiful. And perfect.

“Stay right here. I’m going to get something for your back,” Harry was quick to get what was needed for Y/n’s welts. A warm, damp cloth and some ointment.

When he came back into the room, Y/n was still standing exactly where he left her, “Lie down on the bed on your stomach and I’ll help you with this.”

Harry approached her as she arranged herself on his bed, tummy down. Harry was already anticipating the moment he could rinse her back and then rub the cream over her. He’d touched her gently while she was restrained, but now he would be permitted to put his hand into complete contact with her skin, to really touch her and take care of her wounds.

Y/n put her arms upward, elbows bent, and her face to the side so her cheek was down and she could see Harry behind her from the peripheral. He kneeled on the bed next to her and gently placed the warm rag over her back to soothe the burn, “Are you okay? How do you feel, Y/n?”

Y/n took a deep breath and closed her eyes when Harry began to blot the damp rag down her back, “I feel very good, Father,” her voice was still breathy and soft.

Harry hummed in response with a nod to himself as he continued gently dabbing the rage over her back. When it was time to put the ointment over her he rubbed it into his palms to warm it, as he noticed she had goosebumps over her flesh.

His wide palms slowly caressed her back and smoothed the cream over her sores. He watched as Y/n bit her lip, her eyes still closed. Harry smiled. He used both hands to knead gently down her spine and apply the ointment. It took longer than it should have but Harry enjoyed the way her skin felt under his hands. She was soft and open for him. So willing and sweet.

“You did very well, Y/n. I think this looks good,” he spoke with his palms still flat on her low back, “I’ll leave you to put your sweater on, I can tell you’re cold.”

Harry stood from the bed with the rag and the jar of cream when Y/n pushed herself up and turned her head, “Wait, Father. I need to confess one more thing.”

Harry stopped his motions and turned to see her. Her top half was still hidden, breasts down into the comforter below her. He ticked his chin downward to indicate for her to continue.

“I… really liked that. More than I should. I feel bad because it didn’t mean to me what it was meant to mean. It’s my sin. I can’t control it. I’m sorry, Father,” she looked down at her forearm that was holding her up and Harry could see how red and bitten her lips looked. The delicate thing. She was a lot like him. The flogging was both a penance and a guilty pleasure.

“I understand. I sometimes see it the same way, Y/n. Your pain still acts as penance. Even if you somehow enjoy it. We can talk about this when you’ve dressed. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though,” Harry turned and left the room. He was nearly quivering at what had just happened. He was keyed up from not only flogging the beautiful young woman but all of her admissions to him about what she liked and what she felt was her sin. The girl couldn’t be more perfect for him.

Harry put on another pot of tea and took note of the storm outside. The snow had piled against the parsonage and the wind bellowed outside. It would be too dangerous for her to walk or be driven back to the Sotheby’s in this weather. A fact that he quietly delighted in.

Y/n stepped into the kitchen behind Harry and leaned against the counter to watch him with the tea setup. The two did not speak for a few moments, both lost in their own minds about the reality they were suddenly in. Y/n having been honest with the priest about her sins and the priest reeling over the similarities of their preferences.

Harry turned to look at the pretty girl standing next to him, “You will likely need to stay until the storm subsides,” he looked past Y/n out the window that was on the opposite wall, “perhaps even all night.”

She turned to look out the window and Harry saw a smile crawl onto her face. His own expression was similar, pleased, expectant.

They took tea in his living room and the only sounds that could be heard were the gale winds outside. Y/n looked at Harry, her eyes wide and curious. When Harry looked up at her after a sip of his hot tea he felt he could understand her without a word being spoken.

“Tell me what your thoughts are, Y/n,” he set the teacup down and leaned back into the couch, his hands in his lap.

Y/n breathed out a small laugh and looked down at her lap. She was on the same couch as Harry but separated by a cushion between them.

With her head down she began to speak, “I feel very happy with you, safe. I don’t feel judged or looked down upon,” she lifted her head to look up at the man, his light green eyes taking her in, listening intently as always.

Harry nodded and stayed silent. He wanted her to continue.

Y/n swallowed and fiddled with her fingers, “Thank you for that, Father,” she leaned forward and took a sip of her tea, before leaning back into the couch and cupping the mug into her hands to keep them warm.

She continued, “I’m sure you cannot relate to having lustful thoughts in your heart like me. But I do wonder, what are your sinful thoughts that you feel are so hard that you flog yourself to repent? You said today was a hard day for you.”

Harry let the side of his mouth quirk up in a smile as he looked down. She was a curious girl.

“I’m a man, Y/n. I have lustful thoughts in my heart as most humans do. God has created us to procreate and he made sex feel very good,” Harry was sure to emphasize the words feel very good, “for a reason. It’s in the worst of people and the holiest of us.”

There was a moment of quiet when the wind changed direction and Harry watched Y/n move on her cushion as she tucked a foot under her bottom and turned toward him, “What was hard for you today, Father? The sin you had to atone for.”

Harry’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he took a breath, “Lust.”

Harry’s eyes were severe on Y/n’s and he watched her lips part softly and her eyes soften, “Really? I imagine it must be very hard being a priest with your vows and all. Have you ever had a relationship, Father?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at the girl. Before he could respond Y/n spoke quickly, “I’m sorry! You don't have to answer. I’m sometimes too curious for my own good and you’re so interesting to me. Don’t answer if it’s too much.”

Harry chuckled and sipped his tea, slowly placing it down on the table next to the couch before putting his eyes back on the pretty girl, “I have had relationships, yes. It isn’t against the priesthood per se. Not anymore. But my own vows of celibacy and dedication to God, it is against them. And yes. It’s very hard being a priest and feeling lust.”

“Celibacy. So… you’ve never…” Y/n closed her mouth and looked down at the floor for a moment. “That makes me feel very ashamed of what I’ve done and how I feel lately. I feel like I have not been honest with you, but now knowing this about you makes me feel even worse for the things I’ve imagined,” she looked down at her lap and shook her head.

Harry reached a hand out to cover hers, “Do not feel ashamed. I would not look at you differently no matter your confession to me because I’m a sinner just the same. And I haven’t followed my vows. I love God and I love being a priest, but I love other things as well. Those things are between me and God. He is my judge and he knows my heart.”

Harry knew Y/n wasn’t dumb. He knew he’d told her enough that she could piece things together on her own. And her expression revealed to him just as much. She nodded with a small smile at his words and looked down at his hand covering her.

Keeping her eyes on Harry’s, Y/n slowly brought her free hand down to Harry’s and then lifted his hand upward. She leaned down to press her lips to his knuckles and slowly kissed each one. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched her kiss his hand. Her soft lips on each of his knuckles were innocent but the way she looked up into his eyes as she did so was not.

Harry breathed out heavily at the contact and let her continue. She manipulated his hand so that his palm was facing upward and she kissed the center of his hand and up to his fingers. She placed small pecks to the pads of each finger and kept her eyes on his. The intimate gesture was more than just a kind act of reverence.

With his hand held in both of hers, she kept her lips over his fingers as she spoke to him, “I love your hands, Father,” she closed her eyes and continued kissing along his fingertips. Harry watched her in awe.

She kept her eyes closed and spoke again, “I dreamt of you last night, and it was the best dream,” her voice was a whisper, “it was sinful, dirty, and I didn’t want to wake from it. But I liked it,” she continued kissing his fingers. When her tongue gently swiped over the pad of his thumb Harry inhaled a sharp breath and then lifted his free hand and carded his fingers through her hair gently.

The moment she felt Harry’s hand in her hair she opened her eyes again to look at the priest and very cautiously, slowly kissed the tip of his thumb before parting her lips and sucking just the very tip into her mouth. When she saw that Harry was not opposed to this action, she took more of his thumb into her mouth, their eyes locked. Harry tilted his head and watched her, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his mouth dropped open, nostrils flaring.

Harry had no expectations of her doing anything like this, but he wasn’t too particularly surprised. He knew she had at least a small crush on him, he hoped it was more than just a small crush and he was not disappointed in the way she was responding to him.

“You’re a good girl, Y/n. We cannot help the way God has made us,” Harry’s voice came out a bit cinched and breathy. He was enjoying this display very much.

Y/n kept her eyes on Harry’s as she took his pointer finger into her mouth and did the same as she had with his thumb. Her mouth was warm and soft over Harry’s digits. This was clearly a sexual gesture and Harry would not stop her from continuing. He kept his eyes on hers and watched the lustful show of Y/n lips wrapped around his finger.

When she removed her mouth from his finger she spoke, “Can I… Please, Father, can I,” she got out of her seat, making Harry remove his hand from her hair, and she dropped onto her knees. Putting her hands on the priest’s knees she looked up at him from her kneeling position, “Father, I’ll do whatever you want. I just, please, let me revere you and you can do whatever you please to me. We can go to God together for our penance, to atone. Just let it be with me that you sin. I’ll take it on, a sacrifice to your goodness, Father. I’m not worthy of you, but I’m begging you to pity me, let me take your sins and your punishment. I’ll do it happily if you let me serve you.”

The moment suddenly changed with her vocalization of what she wanted. Harry grasped her chin and shook his head with a soft expression, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking me, Y/n. I’m being very serious right now. That’s what you want? Do you know what it means to do what you say? I need to know what you think that means.”

Y/n let out the tiniest whimper at the feel of his hands on her jaw holding her face to look at him, “I… I want to give myself completely to you, I need it. Want it. So badly. But only if you are pleased with me. Only if you want me. But only me.”

Harry wasn’t sure she understood what she was asking. Typically when he took someone as his submissive there was an agreement in place already. He would seek out someone who was previously looking for that kind of arrangement. He felt it was in his best interest, and hers, to be upfront with her.

“I do things most priests would be appalled by, Y/n. My sexual appetite is something I keep very private and separate from my job. I have been searching for someone to keep. Someone who wants to be mine. Someone who will submit and comply at all times to me. A person who would be a willing companion for me. Submissive to me. To allow me to dominate,” Harry paused to monitor her expression. She nodded subtly her eyes still on his.

“Yes. It’s exactly what I want, Father. Anything you want is everything I want,” she spoke in a small voice and Harry smiled. Her answer was good. It was just what he was looking for.

Y/n grasped Harry’s forearm that held her jaw and pulled his hand upward to her mouth again. With her eyes on his and her knees still on the floor at his feet, she spoke in a whisper, “Please, Father,” as he sucked his middle finger into her mouth, her tongue flicking over the underside of his finger.

Harry had had enough. He dragged her upward to his lap where she climbed over him, her thighs straddling his. He pulled her into his body and pressed his mouth over hers once and for all. A kiss that had them moaning and desperate. Her lips on his felt soft and wanton. She trembled in his arms and on his lap as he licked over her tongue. He smoothed his hand up under her sweater and onto her back softly and she winced at the feel from the welts. He ghosted his hands over the raised skin and then lowered his mouth to her jaw and then down to her neck on the little freckle he’d seen earlier. He licked the spot and then sucked the tiniest bruise under her jaw and her gasp told him she enjoyed it.

Harry lowered his mouth down her neck and softly bit at the skin, then he stood up, holding onto her thighs, and walked her to his bedroom in haste where he placed her on his large, soft bed.

“Take the sweater off,” Harry commanded and watched her peel the fabric off of her body. She then moved to take her bra off and the moment her breasts were bare before him Harry groaned and crawled onto the bed next to her, pressing her down flat.

Harry latched his mouth to her breasts and slowly licked over the exposed skin, biting in tiny nips as he kissed down to underneath the flesh of her round tits. Y/n sucked in sharp breaths at the pinch of the bites he gave her and rubbed her thighs together when she moved her hand into his hair.

Harry moved his warm mouth down her body slowly, with generous use of his tongue.

Harry pushed himself up and placed his hands on both sides of her body, caging her ribs, “Roll over. Let me kiss your wounds.”

Y/n bit her lip and moved to her stomach and Harry’s soft touch on her back was followed by his wet lips kissing over the pink and raised skin from the flogging. He applied open-mouthed kisses down the length of each red stripe on her back and he noted how she wiggled her bum and rocked her hips. He smirked as he continued kissing over her shoulder blade, his hand gently caressing her sides.

When he’d finished on her back he sat up and held onto the back of her neck, keeping her head down. Her face was turned, cheek smushed into the comforter.

“You’ll be mine to dominate as long as you want to be my submissive pet. But only if you give me your full consent because I need you to enjoy this with me. I’ve been looking for a long time, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly and lowered his mouth to kiss at her shoulder before continuing, his hot breath falling over her skin as he whispered his words, “You’ll submit to me in every way, taking my punishments, and allow me to have you sexually, emotionally, and spiritually. How does that sound?” He continued a path of kisses over her shoulder and back as he waited for her to speak, his hand still at the back of her neck.

Y/n nodded with her lip quivering, “Yes. Please. I only expect to be taken care of, to be loved, and in return, I’ll take care of you in any way you like. It’s all I’ve wanted. To belong to someone. To give myself completely to someone that cherishes me. And I truly want to belong to you, Father. But only me. No one else.”

Harry sat up and pulled Y/n gently upward by her neck to face him. He could see tears in her eyes. She was getting emotional.

Harry let go of her neck and brought a hand up to wipe at the tear that had fallen under her eye with his thumb, “There, there, darling. You’re already so perfect for me. Beautiful and sweet. I don’t want anyone but you. You and I will be very compatible,” Harry kept his hand on her face, softly swiping his thumb over her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was perfect.

“I just want to be yours, Father,” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

Harry softly pressed his mouth to the edge of hers and then kissed where her tears had fallen, “Then you shall be mine now.”

Part 2*

I know this one doesn’t have smut - but prepare yourself for part 2 - it’s dirty and sexy.

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[volturissideslut]

What if the Humans adopt a child just to see what’s so special about humans and why the Cullens like them so much, not knowing how troublesome a 8 year old can be?

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

strap in because this is going to be one hell of a ride (also I'm assuming asker meant volturi adopt a chaotic human child)

Aro, ever the curious one, cannot even fathom why dear Carlisle cares so much for these... creatures

And it's been like over 3000 years since he was human and he can't really remember much about living

It would also help if it would stop making Marcus be such a miserable slab of stone, and perhaps even Caius could do with a new toy

It just seemed like destiny when an 8 year old child strayed from the feeding group one day, too entertained by chasing a fat tabby cat that had jumped the wall to the garden

Whatever parent or guardian that came with seemingly hadn't noticed - not that they were alive long enough too

And, of course, Felix was the one to deliver the child to Master Aro considering he's the only one with a modium of decorum or respect for life in the castle

Any of the other guards would have eaten you on sight to be honest (they wouldn't in the future but you're just some random human child right now, they don't care about you yet)

Aro takes one look at you're little form, sticky fingers; muddy knees; grazed elbows; a leaf in your hair

Perfect

They're keeping you

easy, right?

wrong

Why is a overexcited yet hysterical human child such a lovable inconvenience, you may ask

well

1) none of them can fully keep track of you're emotions,why are children so confusing???

2) they can't fully keep track of your whereabout either

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET OF THE ROOF YOU HEATHEN CHILD" - Caius probably

3) they know nothing, and I mean nothing, about humans. Expect them to ask the secratery for help next time you're sobbing, only to find out you're hungry because they haven't fed you a proper meal in days thinking you'd forage for it yourself

I swear Marcus is the only one who is knowledgeable, despite how small it is

"the child requires sustinence again" - Jane, fed up of this shit

4) they're used to the traumatic stuff of vampire life, you are not, they don't realise that

poor kid is gonna be so traumatised, by the age of 10 killing someone over cereal seems socially acceptable

At least Caius actually has a soft spot for you, otherwise you'd be dead dead by now

Marcus reads you bedtime stories

Aro wants you to grow up appreciating everything he does, there are many 'daddy/daughter dates' where he takes you to see plays, musicals, concerts, or whatever that he deems suitable

Caius pretends to be impressed with your drawings and fakes excitement at whatever lego monstrosity you've made

Alec shows you the world, taking you around on his days off to Scotland, Brazil, India or wherever you randomly point to on a map

Felix let's you use his cloak as a blanket when he's not using it, you like to play with it and use it for dens and pillow forts (it can also be used as one of those massive fabric parachute tent bubble thingys the class played with in nursery/FS1/kindergarten and hid under (you know what I'm talking about))

Demitri let's you win at hide and seek despite his gift letting him know where you are at all times. He is also not above pretending to play to keep you out the way and quiet for a solid five minutes before you come out giggling saying you won again

Jane will capture butterflies and set them free with you because she knows you love them and you also love to chase them

The queen's are always dressing you up like a doll and doing your hair, they basically get a list from the secratery of everything humans need (food, water, socialising etc) and fulfil those needs for you

The secratery is the only one who actually knows what you want and need most times, being human herself. The kings are seriously considering turning her instead of just killing her you your sake

And God forbid anyone touches their precious baby, you've grown on them and they'd burn the world for you in an instant

[deathmetalunicorn1]

how abt a family Ror story where their child(reader) is ai hoshino?

In case you don't know who ai hoshino is; she's a teen idol, actress, and model from the anime "Oshi No Ko" that lives in a life full of lies by pretending she loves her fans and belives that lies were a form of love and saw it as a way rk express her love to her fans. But she becomes pregnant and decides to go on a hiatus to save her reputation and gives birth to twins, and after giving birth she continues with her career and becomes more famous later on. But in the end, ai's/reader's lies catches up to her and leads to her death by one of her fans(which was a stalker that found out her secret kids) going to her home and killing reader with a knife.

This is just a short summary that I hope you understand since the anime goes much more deeper if you haven't seen it.

But I wanna see how the family like helps out the reader with her idol career and her twins, as well as how they go through the readers death if you wanna add that! :))

I haven’t watched this series, but I heard how dark the first episode was where she dies in front of her babies- that sound super harsh!

-It was an accident, the one-night stand that led to you being pregnant, despite being a teenager. You felt ashamed when you found out, and you felt scared about what your family was going to think once they found out.

-They supported your dream of becoming an idol, becoming your first fans, and even if nobody else came to one of your concerts, they would always be there for you.

-You became popular over time, slowly rising in popularity until a video of you went viral and you became super popular.

-Your family still supported you, but wanted you to be safe, so you always had a chaperone, as you were still under aged.

-It was one wild night that you managed to sneak away to have some fun, unaware of what was going to become of that fun with one of your fans.

-Your family was upset when they found out, not because you went and had fun, but because you were scared to come to them- despite this new step in your life, they still loved you and still supported you, even if your idol career was over.

-You wanted to become a mother and they supported you when you gave your final concert, a farewell to your fans before you started to show, telling them that you were quitting due to personal reasons.

-Many of your fans were upset, not wanting to lose you, but for the most part they all supported you, giving you words of encouragement if you ever decided to come back.

-Your family was by your side from there on out, helping you with morning sickness, cravings, going to your appointments with you, and helping when you wound up bed bound during your last trimester, due to your petite size.

-You welcomed your babies, a boy and a girl, twins- which was surprising to everyone as all the scans ever showed was one baby, but you were overjoyed, and your family instantly were whipped for your twins.

-It was trial and error on your part, learning how to be a good parent, luckily you had a lot of people on your side who offered you different strategies, viewpoints, and advice, and your family was impressed, you took to being a parent with ease, once you had a rhythm down.

-It was a year later, on your twins’ first birthday, you had worked hard making a beautiful birthday party for them, with help from your family who helped you and your babies celebrate when a knock came to the door.

-You went to answer it, thinking it was the caterer, as you had ordered a sandwich platter as there were so many people at the house and it would be easy to clean up.

-Before you was not the caterer, but a fan, one of your first fans that was not a part of your family, seeing you in an apron, your bright smile falling into one of confusion.

-You only saw the knife as it was coming towards you, your shriek of fear filling the house before your family ran to your aid, seeing your fan had stabbed you in the stomach, crying heavily like this was hurting him and not the other way around, “I can’t believe this is the reason you left! You became a mother?!”

-Leonidas showed no mercy, kicking the boy away from you hard as Odin quickly held you in his arms, his magic trying to slow the blood flow from the wound.

-Blood was coming from your mouth and tears from your eyes from the pain and fear as you heard your family yelling, calling paramedics and police, yelling at the boy who stabbed you, and your babies were crying. But everything sounded so far away and was slowly fading, your vision going dark.

-You were their light, snuffed out too soon, as you died in Odin’s arms, the wound too severe to do anything before paramedics arrived.

-Your family felt broken, in shock, seeing that you were gone, taken from them so cruelly.

-The fan was arrested and thanks to security cameras, he was put away for life, everyone knew his name for the one that killed you, and with it, everyone found out that you had been pregnant and had twins.

-Many fans tried to say they were the father, wanting fame, but you were the sole parent, and you had, just in case, prepared if anything ever happened to you, that your family would become the guardians of your babies and that your babies, once they were old enough to make their own decisions, could consent to a paternity test, but until then, the decision was left to your family who had no hesitation in giving these glory hounds the boot.

-Your fame skyrocketed more after your death, after everyone learned that you became a mother, and how you were killed by a fan who wanted you to be an idol once more.

-Your family kept your babies out of the limelight, and did their best to do the same, not wanting to expose them to the fame of being your children.

-Your family was guarded and protective of your babies, not wanting to risk losing them too, they wouldn’t allow it.

[geospiral]

“I want to be someone’s stepping stone; I want the memory of me to haunt that person so that I may live through them and be beside them without having to stay. I know that's selfish and cruel, but if the path has already been laid out for me and I have no choice but to die, then I want to at least be able to choose who I die for. And to be honest, I will probably regret this decision when I’m lying there and spitting up my own blood, but at least it will be mine… and I think I can rest easy knowing that.”

Moran, a top student when it comes to all things excluding singing, can best be described as being Anakt Garden’s very own “Thinker.” Often found sitting on the very left edge of the garden’s box, she is willing to lend an ear to those in need.

Alien Stage OC Base made by @shakingparadigm

_____________________________________________________________

Anakt Garden:

Moran is not a person who will intentionally seek other people out, but she does enjoy when others come to her, usually in the form of seeking guidance. This guidance can range from simply helping a fellow student with their class work to teaching others some of what she knows about the Segyein’s entertainment industry, a topic that she is familiar with due to her upbringing. 

She likes talking about philosophy, giving general worldly advice, and being a mediator to her fellow classmates, trying her best to be an impartial judge.

Moran also likes “reading” other people’s fortunes as a kind of game. It’s not anything serious; you ask her a specific topic about the future, such as “Am I going to pass the test?” and then give her as much information as you can about your chosen topic in order for her to make an educated guess. If she guesses correctly, you have to give her something, and if she doesn't, then she’ll give something to you. The items are nothing big, just small treasures like a pretty stone from the stream or an Anakt Garden lollipop. Moran also keeps a small collection of things she finds or is given in case others would just like to do general bartering with her; however, she doesn’t hold any real attachment to the things she collects and will usually trade her items away in exchange for short-lived treats such as candy, drinks, or a bubble wand.

Moran gets along fine with the other students, and although she can be pretty blunt at times, to the point of unintentionally seeming rude, she does her best to stay on everyone’s good side. She was raised with many others under her Guardian, so she has always been used to living alongside her fellow humans; however, the experiences were not great, causing her to have trouble telling when others genuinely like her or wish to be her friend. It doesn’t help that it only seems that her classmates come to her when they need something.

______________________________________________________________

Background:

Moran’s Guardian, Rheya, is a well-known and respected theater director with a theatrical troupe composed of the many humans under her, raising them from a young age to be her personal actors. By having her plays consist of an entirely human cast, Rheya is able to push the limits of her plays' theatrics in ways that she simply could not when working with her fellow Segyeins. Her plays are touted for their stories and visual spectacles; however, they can tend to be extremely dangerous for the humans involved, with many sustaining real injuries throughout their performances.

Despite the humans of the troupe referring to Rheya as their "mother,” they do not view one another as family but rather as competition when it comes to gaining their Guardians' affection. Bullying amongst the group is commonplace; if one person is punished, everyone is, which leads to that one individual being viciously humiliated and outcast by their peers and being sent down levels in the troupe’s personal social hierarchy.

(Note: The troupe’s hierarchy is loosely inspired by that of the video game Rule of Rose; I haven’t played it, and it's basically impossible to do so without pirating, but I got the idea from the video analysis of the game by RagnarRox.)

Rheya did not want to stop her storytelling at just theater production; however, she wanted to extend her reach further and saw Alien Stage as a chance to do just that, devising a long-term plan to craft what will hopefully be one of her best stories. She wants the story to go like this: she will choose two of her humans, one to send to Anakt Garden and the other to stay with her, molding him into the next big celebrity pet. The one sent to the garden, Moran, would be used as fodder in order to boost the fame of the other human pet, Adam, under the guise that the reason she trained for and performed in Alien Stage was to gain the other’s attention, subsequently dying in the competition. Upon finding this out, Adam would then go on to perform in the next Alien Stage season after her to avenge the women who loved him, winning in the process.

Rheya doesn’t have any faith that Moran can survive her Alien Stage season, and neither does Moran herself, but while Moran is in the garden, she hopes to find someone who she can truly die for in the competition, someone she actually cares for, unlike Adam, whom she barely knows and has never loved. If Moran must die, she wants it to be meaningful to her and the one she adores. She wants to make it her own choice.

[pokenimagines]

Nsfw Grusha fic please? Soft and fluffy, with oral and foreplay.

NSFW fic for Grusha, my love? You got it! I am such a simp for the man, I will happily write something soft and fluffy. Apologies though, I have a lot of requests in the inbox so I was able to get to the oral part, but didn't have time to write a full on smut. It is implied at the end, though!

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one! Content Warning: Oral M!Receiving

Rules | Discord Server (16+)

NSFW Grusha: Whip Cream Dreams

It was late and freezing cold as you curled under the covers some more. You were cuddling so close to Grusha as you tried sucking in his body warmth. Your fingers trailing underneath his shirt to help unfreeze them. The man who was subjected to your cold touch shuffled uncomfortably from it.

"You're too cold..." Grusha murmured, still half asleep. He let out a small yawn and you chuckled, trailing your hands down to his hips a bit. Grusha hissed at the cold, wiggling away from you a bit more. You took the opportunity to follow his though, not letting up with your cold touches.

"Gruuuuuusha, give me some warmth." You whispered, keeping quiet, despite you being the only two in the home. Grusha finally opened his eyes halfway, trying to give you a glare that wasn't succeeding.

"If you're so cold, turn the heater up, but don't freeze me with you." He grumbled out. You chuckled, as you shuffled closer to him, until your body was flush with his own.

"That means I have to get out of bed, and it's too cold...you do it." You pouted and Grusha looked at you.

"I was fine until you started touching me." he reminded you. Despite you trying to pout and be cute, he wasn't having it. He didn't want to admit he was cold as well, and getting out of bed seemed like a nightmare.

"Pleeeeeeease?" You tried begging, but he shook his head, "Okay...what if I warmed you up before you got up?" You offered, making Grusha raise an eyebrow.

"How do you plan on doing that?" He aske, making you chuckle. You then slipped underneath the covers, confusing your boyfriend for a moment. That's when he felt your hands trailing over his thighs, one creeping a bit closer to the front of his pants. He groaned as your hand cupped his dick through his pants.

You began working on slipping his sweatpants off his well defined hips; you adored how he went commando most nights. It was so easy for you to play with him like this. Your hand ghosting over his slowly hardening dick; within a few strokes he was already hard and heavy in your hand.

"T-this is your brilliant idea?" He asked, sucking in a deep breath as he felt your lips kissing along the head of his cock.

"Everyone knows your body temperature rises when you cum. So if I make you cum, you'll be warm enough to turn on the heater for me. It's a win-win situation." You teased, your tongue laving at his length, going from top to bottom before placing the head against your lips again.

"Except your hands are still freezing." he pointed out, but he couldn't help how his body reacted to your touches. You chuckled, watching as he lifted the covers so he could get a good look at you.

You put on a show, sticking your tongue out and licking his shaft; you made sure to look him in the eyes as you did so, a small smile forming on your lips.

"They'll warm up, I promise...you taste really good today." You noted before finally taking his dick into your mouth. Grusha let out a drawn out moan at feeling your warm mouth engulfing his cock. His hands went to threat through your hair, helping guide your mouth along his cock. Your tongue lazily swirling around the length, one hand pumping what your mouth couldn't reach.

You moaned at the salty taste in your mouth, making sure to give the slit at the top extra attention every time you bobbed your head. Grusha's breath was coming out in small pants as he looked down at you with half lidded eyes. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth and you knew he was close.

You doubled in your efforts, sucking in your cheeks to give a bit more stimulation. Your tongue pressed along one of the veins on his cock; Grusha gasped as he came down your throat. He let out a few curses under his breath, as you tried lapping up all his cum, taking his cock out of your mouth and licking it clean. His cock twitched again in your hand, and you heard Grusha hiss.

You put one hand on his thigh while licking your lips, wiping a bit of cum that had spilled out the corner of your mouth, "Feel warm now?" You asked Grusha with a smirk. You loved how flushed his cheeks were and he growled, pulling you up until you were settled on his lap.

You then felt his lips against your own in a hungry kiss, his tongue easily slipping between your lips as he overtook the kiss in an instant. You moaned against his lips, your hands finding his shirt and bunching the fabric up.

He rolled his hips up against your own, "How about we forget the heater and I'll just warm you up myself?"

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!

[donnapalude]

it seems to be a widely held opinion that claudia's attempt to be considered a sister was a sweet but unrealistic illusion. and i concur that you can't really stop being someone's daughter, insofar as the past can't be rewritten. but i don't know that i fully agree that lestat was "right" by saying you can't just change a family configuration. what he meant by it was accurate to the situation at the time, but i wouldn't say it holds universally.

translating the scene through lestat's lenses, what he meant to convey was that, by virtue of him being claudia's father-maker, it was impossible for them to renegotiate their power dynamic so that she could stop being subjected to his will. this due to a set of pragmatic considerations: i) in the context in which he was raised, there was little to no way for a child (or a wife) to obtain autonomy outside the patriarchal reach, and the situation in nola is not that different; ii) the difference in vampiric power between them; iii) his exclusive access to information and knowledge about the vampire world that would leave claudia and louis defensless without him. the factual nature of the power imbalance entails that by reworking the practical and societal conditions surrounding the family, roles can in fact change! there's still work to be done, but some years down the line from that scene a daughter will be able to stop being such! legally even! vampiric knoweldge can be gained and vampiric power also. it's still difficult to actually match your maker for both and there's the vampiric bond to account for, the role of which is not really clear yet in iwtv, but still the possibility exists. and despite the fact his words actually reflect lestat's worldview and, at the time of the scene, also the reality claudia and louis live in, lestat is also aware that some change can come. he has after all escaped his own patriarchs and abusers over time. and in fact he holds on even more tightly to those practical means of subjugation, because he knows everyone's role is predicated upon them.

apart from structural and material power, the specificity of a parent/child bond clearly contains other nuances. the main discriminators from other types of relationship are the intense responsibilities for caretaking (practical and emotional) that, ideally, should only flow one way. except this aspect also gets complicated, even in normal human relationships. once children grow and parents age, it is not uncommon for this paradigm to be inverted. and for younger children, heavy parentification over formative years eliminates the paradigm altogether. factoring vampirism in this makes the situation even more complex. as lestat is a father figure to both by virtue of being their maker, louis and claudia are in some ways also siblings under a shared authority. not at the beginning maybe, when claudia is so much younger that she would functionally be louis's child even if she was his actual sister. but that is certainly true later, as she matures and lestat is back to rule over them. on top of that, in the meantime, claudia also undergoes a more regular role-reversal, as for a time she is louis's sole caretaker while he is able to provide little but companionship to her. which is not only a change in the configuration of their daily activities. as a child your parents are not really full people: they exist only as the facet of their being that is supposed to provide for you. when you are forced to see them in their entirety, they inevitably stop being only your parents. other roles get added: friends, dependants, partners. but you can hardly go back to the before. and, as vampires have long lives, it is very easy for me to imagine the possibility of this kind of relationships going through a plethoras of iterations, until you feel little connection with the version of yourself that was once a child in someone's arms. this is not even touching potential incestual readings, because i am trying to stick to the show, which has mostly avoided them.

all of this is to say that framing claudia's proposal to be considered a sister as naive and unfounded fails in my opinion to capture the complexity of how actual families work and also the specific pain underneath this proposal. i don't think with her request claudia is simply trying to get flimsy recognition of a role that would make her feel less subjected to lestat's power (she knows she is not safe anyway). and i also don't think it's a way to justify exculpating louis to herself (she is already doing that by recognising his position as a victim of domestic abuse). although i do feel that with regard to louis specifically she at least sees a possibility to be a true sister due their solidal position as fledglings/children of lestat, while she would prefer being nothing to lestat and escaping him, i think what she is generally asking while she is stuck at home is simply for lestat and louis to recognise formally that their respective roles to each other have already changed substantially. lestat believes patriarchal power begets responsibilities over the family (protection from external harm, economic support etc.) and this regardless of the debate on how well he performs them and how hypocritical the system becomes when it doesn't include protection from the patriarch himself. and to an extent louis agrees (he also felt the same responsibility towards his family, although his patriarchal role was ill-fitting). but claudia is asking them to consider that actually the paradigm should be inverted and it is responsibility that should beget power. parents should have power over children only insofar as they have a duty to take care of them when they are unable to provide for themselves. even discounting claudia's age (as her mental age increasing while physically she remains a young girl complicates matters with respect to how much she needs louis and lestat to navigate the world) the fact remains that, by failing to give her care and protection, by withdrawing the support she was owed and leaving her to fend for herself, by actively harming her, they have renegated that responsibility and the power that comes with it. by making her take care of louis and then making her responsible for mainting the happiness of their marriage they have even shifted that responsibility to her. in other words, they have functionally treated her as an adult when it suited them, while still wanting to treat her as a child when they needed her to come to heel. this is why i don't believe her request to be neither delusional nor absurd. it may be naive in the sense that she is placing too much trust in two men that fundamentally do hold patriarchal values (although louis makes a good attempt at battling his). and of course she can never erase the fact that she was their daughter originally: even if betrayed, you never really lose the expectation of receiving that unconditional love that asks for nothing. if she was only sister, she would not feel the pain of disappointment. but saying it was inevitable and appropriate that they could only ever see her as a daughter removes a lot of culpability from them and frames her story as something that it is not. it implies that she was really only a child, that louis and lestat were correct in recognizing that and that the tragedy of her life stems from her inability to accept the impossibility of growing up.

i simply disagree. i think iwtv makes a clear case to say that claudia does reach emotional (if not physical) maturity and that she has all the abilities and responsibilities of an adult. so when lestat and louis don't recognize that, they are not right. or at least not fully. there can be sweetness in a parent's residual instinct for protection that does not translate to stifling. but in this case, they are also projecting their own desire for control (lestat) and guilt over failed father/motherhood (louis) on claudia and fitting her into the role that best serves the fulfillment of their needs. which could lead to the conclusion that her tragedy hinges on simply being an adult that is constantly infantilised. but i think it's a bit more complicated than that. in claudia's story childhood is not simply a cage to escape, its role is much more ambivalent. after her turning, claudia's world is still a place of magic and wonders. she has a colorful inner life, a joyously curious mind and a clear creative streak. she revels in the blood and the hunt and she is vicious only as a child can: there's no calculation to it, it just feels good! it's fun! she also has a measure of hope and faith in lestat and louis, and it's not perfect, but overall i think she feels protected and safe. killing charlie, seeing him burn, lestat's abuse, her sexual assault, all mark a violent end to this life in a way that irrevocably closes the door on it. she can never return to that girl that hides in her fantasies, she must face reality now. but the separation is not painless. a longing for it remains, in her search for the uncomplicated love of a new family and her desire to lose herself in plays and characters, to dream again for a little bit. however, a rejection is also there. that little girl was naive and knew nothing and bad things happened to her because of it. she must be strong and sharp now and never again be lulled in a sense of safety. what she is escaping here, is not the entire concept of childhood, but the powerlessness of it, which comes partly from the defenselessness of an innocent mind, and which her physical form and people's infantilisation keep pressing on her. claudia is not just a child wanting to be an adult or an adult treated like a child. her mind and body being at odds reflect the fact that she is somehow stuck between childhood and adulthood, subjected to the worst aspects of both according to the whims of others. what is tragic about her story does not relate to an unavoidable fracture in her psyche. it has everything to do with the very avoidable treatment she receives from people around her. and it is as much rooted in the fact that she was forcibly evicted from the ideal safety of her status as a child as in the fact she was forced to continously relive the lack of control in it. in other words, in the breaking of the illusion that children being brought to life and being subjected to parental power is always for their benefit.

the sister-daughter conundrum ultimately leads back to this. claudia's request to anoint her of her new role represents a desire to be at least spared of the hope of being treated like a daughter/child and move on by acknowledging the bitter truth that she is a sister/adult. however, the fact she needs to ask is very telling as is the fact she reverts to hope as soon as a new family is in sight. and i am sorry to always come back to her death by i find it difficult not to think about this circularly. her last glance at lestat also holds this contradiction to me. to say it's just condemnation or just yearning does not cut it. it must be both. it's a prayer already anticipating disappointment. it's a challenge to face her pain, belying the desire to have it recognised. it's a last request to be both loved as a child and respected as a woman. in my reading of her, i try to grant this request.