#sinning sunday coming in early

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

#Tom Riddle smut #priest fic #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle imagine

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Morning Sex 18+ Ft: Draken, Hakkai, Shuji, Taiju, and Ran Resident of @enchantedforest-network TW: Morning sex, suggestive theme, suggestive language, penetration, fingering, masturbating, making out, mutual masturbation

Taiju

 

Your dreams began sweet but ended a bit more sinfully when opening your eyes you could see your husband still sleeping. Seeing his chest rise up and down, he looked like a masterpiece. Biting your lower lip your hands began to rub his hard chiseled abs they began to travel lower and lower going underneath the band of his briefs finding his cock. You slowly began to stroke his cock. With just a few strokes you heard a low throat groan coming from him. His eyes half opened, his eyes fixated on you. “What do you think you're doing?” “Playing with what's mine.” you playfully spoke to him. Your lashes batting at him then back at the covers moving as you were stroking his cock. He looked at the time and Sunday services started in an hour and a half.  “Waking up with such sinner thoughts like the little slut you are.” letting out a lower growl. 

Pushing off the covers and removing the briefs from his lower extremities. “You love fucking this little slut. Doesn't that make you a sinner as well?” you cooed as you rub the tip of his cock that had pre-cum. 

“I guess we are lucky we have a little bit of time before the services. But it doesn’t give me enough time to fuck the sins out of you my way.” Taiju looked down at your hand reaching the back of your head gripping a fist full of your hair. “I wanna see how much of a little slut you can be before we have to get ready.”

Hanma

“Ba-be  I- I mmmm ngh shit~~~ i need to get ready.” you couldn't even get the words out of your lips. Your hands were pressed on your beds as you were bent over. “You think I could resist you walking all nice clean for me.” He trusted hard a few times making you gasp for air. “They wouldn’t mind you being an hour late or two.” 

Hanma was getting a good view of his cock sliding inside of you. He saw the ring of cum at the base of his cock. You were simply enjoying every ounce of his cock being rammed inside of you. This wouldn’t be the first time you were late because of him. It definitely wouldn’t be the last time either. He leaned over his tongue sliding up your back till he reached your shoulder placing a sweet kiss. The soft panting coming from him, his hands grasped onto your breast. His body was already glistening with sweat as his body pressed against your back. “Fuck it this your third time being late? You don’t need that job now, let daddy take care of you.” he purred in your living you could hear the menacing chuckle coming from him. “Your only job right now is to take all of my cock inside of you.” Draken

He is the first one to walk up but he is too comfortable to get out of bed. His head is buried into the back of your head. He got a whiff of your shampooed hair “Babe get up.” he grumbled with his eyes closed. “No” you mumbled in a groggy tone. “It's too early….” “It's 7, come one get up.” he slightly opened his eyes to see the time on the alarm. “You get up then I will get up.” you weren’t gonna get up not until he did. It was a bit hard at first because his arms were wrapped around you. 

You felt his hand sliding up your stomach passing your breast where his hand applied slight pressure to your neck. That woke you up instantly then heard his voice in a low husk tone “You can be such a brat sometimes” his hand traveling to your lips. His index finger parting your lips. You began sucking on his index finger. You shifted your body, turning your head around the lazy expression on his face. His hands rested on your hip before his hands began to travel to your lower extremities. He began to the fabric where your cunt was. “I’m up.” you softly moaned. “Oh you are now?” a cocky smirk on his lips as he continues to rub your covered cunt. The more he had friction he noticed you becoming damper.

“I need my dose of vitamin D kenny.” you cooed as his hand went into your bottoms and he began to rub your swollen lips. 

Ran

The king of sleeping was in dreamland before he felt some slight friction against his groin. You did tend to move a lot in your sleep you were not consciously knowing what you were doing. His cock started to become harder. He let a low groan out. “Shiiittt.”  He wanted you to wake up. “Honey.” 

“Hmmm?” you heard his voice close to your ear. “Ran what happened?” you yawned not fully being awake.

“You have woken my friend with all your movements in your sleep..” his cock pressed against your ass. “Don’t you think it’s fair to take care of the problem you created unconsciously or not?” his lazy voice echoed in your ear. “Your right Ran.” you turned around your hand reaching for his cock and began to stroke him. You felt his cock pulsating in your hand as you continued to stroke his girthy cock. Hearing the soft moaning coming from him as his hand caressed your cheek his press latched onto yours. His hands sliding into your panties, he did waste time as his two fingers began to fuck your cunt. You began to pump faster the more he began to finger fuck you. 

Hakkai

 Hakkai’s throbbing member slid deeper inside of you, your walls squeezing around his cock. On your side, you were gripping the sheets. One leg was lifted slightly supported by Hakkai’s hands as the other hand was around you, his fingers messing with your sensitive clit. Everything you were feeling was just intensified. “Kai~~~.” Moaning his name out loud you could hear his panting in your ear. As he slowed down his thrusting, he let out a low groan. He barely arrived early in the morning after being overseas the last few weeks. Not even an hour of being him your both ended up in the bed you both shared. 

 “I missed you so much .” Raspy tone feeling warm breath hits the shell of your ear.

“I -I missed you too Hakkai~~.” You said between each moan. “D-don’t stop just like that~~” whimpering as the tall slender man's cock still slid in and out of you.

“Fuck.”..letting a long groan out loud as his thrusting was becoming a bit sloppier. In your tone and the way your pussy was tightening around his cock you were close to coming.  Turning your head towards him you could see him flexing his jaw and just for him to see the lewd expression on your face the sound of his cock thrusting hard into you... The warm cum filled your pussy up once again as you both locked eyes with one another.

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#draken #ken ryuuguji x y/n #ken ryuuguji smut #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran haitani smut #hakkai shiba #hakkai smut #hakkai x reader #taiju shiba #taiju smut #taiju x reader #shuji hanma x reader #shuji hanma #hanma smut #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev smut #the witch of one piece #Val’s writing #Draken smut #shuji smut #ran haitani x reader #hakkai x you #taiju x y/n #taiju x you

[stargirl-in-dilfspace]

Comfort(ers) & Sheets - Joel Miller x Reader [Drabble]

[moodboard for moodboards sake can easily be read as game or hbo joel <3]

warnings/themes: allusions to sex, no smut, fluff, lots of romance/love, pov swap, implied plot, it’s sweet & short that’s it.

a/n: just a quick drabble based on a thought I had at 11pm when I should’ve definitely been sleeping. thoughts loved and appreciated if you enjoy <3

————————————————————

You could spend every late Sunday morning all wrapped up in the huge white comforter you’d invested in when you moved into this house from trading.

Specifically under it, with your very sleepy husband sprawled out on his side of the bed, as you lay, naked (Joel had made sure of that the night before) your stomach pressed against the mattress, your fingers tracing down his face, over his nose. His scars.

The cool summer breeze from the morning seeps in with the dim sunlight, the warmth and coolness all at once of the oversized, stuffed blanket makes you want to lie there forever.

He doesn’t stir. Not anymore. When he knows you’re there he stays still, content even in his sleep.

You slip out of bed, only a loose sheet wrapped around you, opening the back patio door and settling in a rocking chair he’d built for you. You watch the trees behind your home, in the warm sun, your body sore and relaxed all at once. You took pride in that, even if Joel didn’t believe you. He made you feel like you could just…melt, soak into the dark ground and dig your way right back out just for him again.

“Sugar…” Joel all but spoke loudly as he leaned on the doorframe, he’d been there for a few minutes now, but he wouldn’t tell you that. In his mind, when he got to watch you think, about anything, he’d been blessed by some divine grace to have you.

“Honey.” You smile, turning enough to see him.

“Still early…come back to bed?” He offers, his tone convincing, always too convincing.

“We have a day to start.” You remind him, as he leans down to take up your hand, letting you make sure the sheet that covered you was wrapped still. You’d shown him every piece of you, and every second of that he wanted more. But until he had you safe and comfortable…that piece of you only he got, stayed hidden to the world, and to him.

“The day can wait on us.” He replies simply, picking you up completely as he carries you back in, and you shut the patio door.

————————————————————

Your soft breath. That’s what he listens to. It’s the same as a heartbeat to him. It means you’re alive, and still here with him, sheet left to the floor, the same with your clothes, to be found when you meet the day. His eyes watch your resting face, pensive but restful nonetheless. His right hand snakes into your hair and out, a repeated motion, his left placed over yours, on his bare chest. He’d managed it again. Managed to keep the most beautiful and most precious thing in his life in his bed, sure, with his head buried deep between your thighs, and a slow and sleepy push back into sleep.

But he likes it that way. He’d stay like this for an eternity if he could, ignorant to every sin and deformity that is the world now, mapping out every inch he could of you, instead of escape routes and patrol paths.

He wanted every piece of you, just the way you are.

His eyes are tired but the last thing he wants to do is sleep. He watches his calloused hands, destroyed by the grips of countless guns and weapons.

He should marry you again.

Even with the years that take a toll on both of you now, years that you can let show on your faces and bodies, he wants to be smooth like a whiskey on a bar with a new finish, soft like a shower, washing the dirt from your body after a long day, a relief to you the way a breath of fresh air feels after the restriction of a gas mask. Those are the things he strives, no, begs some higher power to be.

Even in his dying breath, he is yours. That’s all he knows.

#pedro pascal #writing prompt #joel miller #game joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fluff #fanfic #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou game #pedro pascal fandom #writers on tumblr

[doumadono]

Unfortunately, I'm going to work this weekend so i’m sending this in early! Rengoku with a breeding kink 😩

A/N: I believe Kyojuro would certainly have a breeding kink because he would want to start a family of his own ♥ Enjoy your weekend at work, and I hope you get to indulge in some spicy fanfiction when you have some spare time after your shift!

SINFUL SUNDAY

He skillfully guided your legs apart, sliding his hips between them. The head of his throbbing shaft made contact with your moist folds, causing him to arch back, shoulders pulling taut as he inhaled deeply, parting his dry lips, releasing a guttural groan. Rengoku shifted his weight onto his knees. His gaze lowered, taking in your skin, a soft peach hue glistening with your arousal, sending a rush of desire coursing through the man. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, his gaze darted to your contorted features, a smile breaking into his mouth as his middle finger dove between your glistening folds. He basked in the wetness and heat he found, grinning when your eyes snapped open to find his, your pupils widening.

“Yes, darling, just like that,” you hissed under your breath, hips undulating toward his touch as Kyojuro's digits explored your folds, spreading your juices.

“Patience,” he smirked, tipping his head at you, savoring the twists on your countenance. One finger, slithering to your entrance, curling so he slipped only the first knuckle into you.

You grabbed his wrist, fingers digging into his flesh. “Baby, please, put an end to this teasing at once.”

He smiled at you, leaning in to capture your mouth in a passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together, his free hand tracing the elegant curve of yur neck before brushing down your chest and cupping your breast. His thumb and forefinger toyed with your nipple, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

"Anything my mistress desires," Rengoku whispered huskily.

You eased your grip on him, and Kyojuro took the opportunity to guide his throbbing length to your slick entrance. He let out a muted sigh as he slid inside you, inch by tantalizing inch.

Your own moans were swallowed by his mouth, your lips locked in a fervent embrace.

You dug your nais into the back of his neck, your tongue exploring his mouth with an insatiable hunger, savoring every taste he offered.

Rengoku's hips began to move, grinding against yours, while the velvety walls of your heat clenched around him, creating a scorching friction.

Your thighs drew him in closer, ankles locking, and calves brushing against his round buttocks, urging him deeper into the heated confines of your legs. Your nails raked across his back, leaving fiery trails of sensation in their wake. "Harder, harder!" You begged, your head rolling back.

The rhythmic thrusting of Kyojuro's hips sent waves of desire coursing through you.

Sensations of your mingling fluids dripping down your entrance heightened your desire, and you sensed the muscles of the fiery-haired man shifting beneath your touch. Your grip on the back of his neck tightened as you pulled him closer. You turned your head toward his ear, your mouth tantalizingly close. "Come inside, Kyojuro," you purred, your tongue caressing the shell of his ear, your teeth gently nipping at the cartilage. "Breed me," you whispered seductively.

Rengoku grunted loudly, muttering incoherent sounds under his breath, just some primal noises. His movements grew more forceful, his skin slapping against yours, as if he wanted to penetrate you even deeper. "Yes," he cried out, his voice filled with raw desire. "Anything, anything." He moaned and captured your mouth in a passionate kiss, breaking away only when the need for air became overwhelming. He touched your foreheads together and chanted your name and pleas in hushed, fervent words.

The sound of your lustful union filling your ears.

Kyojuro growled through gritted teeth, his breath hissing as your legs tightened their grip around his hips. He thrust into you relentlessly, one hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit, his fingers moving with urgency, rubbing little circles around the most sensitive spot.

Rengoku locked eyes with you, his hips undulating as he controlled the tempo. "You'll be swollen, heavy with our child," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "And you'll remember how I put them inside you. You'll want me, and me only, my dearest spark."

His furious pace resumed, and you gasped, your legs trembling, your hands clutching at him. You cried out, your walls clenching tightly around him, milking him dry. "Yes, baby, yes, yes, yes!"

"Fuck!" Kyojuro groaned as he spilled his seed inside you, his forehead touching the crook of your neck as he tried to regain his composure.

Amid the pulsations of your core, you could feel the warmth of his release inside you. You shivered. Yor legs ached, and you knew you'd be sore in your most intimate places, sticky between your thighs. The thought of cleaning up crossed your mind, but the weight of him on top of you was still alluring, his heavy breathing inviting, even as it settled back into its normal rhythm.

"I love you," you whispered, your fingers tenderly cradling his jaw. "My fierce demon slayer, the best there is," you praised.

"I love you too, my spark," Kyojuro replied, placing a gentle kiss on the bridge of your nose. "I can't wait to witness our love blossoming as our child grows within your womb."

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥 #sinful sunday #anime smut #smutty blurb #sinful sunday anon #anonymous #divider by cafekitsune #kny smut #demon slayer smut #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro smut #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku smut #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader

[bellaramseysgf]

I’m your God (E.M)

Warning(s); Innocent/crybaby! Reader,finger sucking,training,fingering,hand kink,choking kink,religious kink,daddy kink, casual dominance, mean!dom Eddie.

Pairing(s); Eddie Munson x girlfriend! Reader.

Summary; How can you believe in God when Eddie Munson exists.

A/n;…..just…. @toomanybandstocare thank me later.

Eddie Munson. He was your boyfriend. God.

You and Eddie met close to 4 months ago after his uncle drug him into your dads church. Wayne had found out about his little “deals” and wanted him to apologize to “god” even though Eddie didn’t believe in shit.

You were stood at the front in you little pink Sunday dress, your hair curled just like your father liked. You kept your makeup down to a minuscule amount because it was something your father never liked on “young girls” you were 19. You weren’t a child. “Thank you for your help darling” your father smiled and ran his fingers through your hair.

The church doors swung open and in walked a very angry Wayne and a boy he was dragging by the collar of his jacket. “Wayne!” Your dad clapped his hands “what has you here so early?” You stared at the boy. You remember him, where from? “Eddie?” You asked and the boys eyes snapped to yours. What in gods name was Eddie “The freak” Munson doing inside a church.

“You know him?” Your father asked and you shook your head “just went to the same school.” Your father furrowed his brows “isn’t he like 21?” “20.” Eddie corrected and huffed fixing his jacket dusting it off. “You’re still in high school? Are you dumb?” You gasped “dad! Don’t say that!” Your father rolled his eyes.

“Well?” Wayne prompted and Eddie scoffed “you’re serious? I don’t even believe in this shit and you want me to apologize? For what? That money is what has kept us floating. Fuck you.” Eddie huffed out “that’s quite enough!” Your father yelled, voice booming through the church. “Do it or you won’t be coming back into my trailer.” Eddie looked at his uncle who was actually dead-pan serious.

With a roll of his eyes Eddie reluctantly dropped to his knees in front of the alter, just so happened that was in front of you. He lifted his eyes up to yours that were locked in on his Eddie smiled up at you almost like a devil. It made your blood pump faster,your cheeks flush and it had you pressing your thighs together. You couldn’t take you eyes off the man knelt before you. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I’m sorry to disgrace your name and will.” He huffed and looked back at his uncle prying his eyes from your.

You sucked in a breath you didn’t realize you were holding at that moment. “Good enough?” Eddie stood back up, and that was how everything else started. The late nights with him,sneaking out to meet him at the lake,him willingly coming to church just so he could see your pretty face.

You know your dad doesn’t like him but you don’t wanna date some perfect,church going boy. You want eddie. Eddie’s yours and you’re his.

“Cmon, pumpkin. You gotta get out of this phase. Why don’t you date that carver boy? He’s nice” you scoff “nice? He Bully’s half of Hawkins high.” Your dad sighs “he doesn’t even believe in God. How’s he gonna be a good man? Father? Huh?” You glared at your father “why do you get to assume that I want that? I don’t want kids dad.” He rolled his eyes “just, go. If you refuse to listen I’m not going to waist my breath on something useless.” You sniffled.

Useless? Surely you aren’t. You always help…you aren’t useless.

You sniffled wiping at your wet eyes hiccuping when you walked right into someone. “Hey- whoa, y/n? Are you okay?” You looked up with blurry eyes at Gareth, one of Eddie’s closet friends. You shook your head and he wrapped a arm around your shoulders. “Cmon, Eddie’s down here at the café” you nodded and allowed him to lead you away.

You stepped inside the small building, it smelled of sugar and coffee. The second Eddie saw you he was standing up and you were running over. “Honey? Baby, what happened. Why’re we crying?” You clung to his chest crying into his shirt. Eddie crouched down his hands coming to rub away tears “princess, cmon talk to me. What happened?” You just shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Just want daddy” Eddie lifts you up and let’s you cling to his chest until you fall asleep.

Eddie was so fed up with your father the amount of times eddie had comforted you after your dad made you cry was uncountable. Eddie didn’t mind it though, found it so sweet how you’d cling to him while whining that you ‘just wanted daddy’ made his pride feel good.

Eddie had you splayed out on his couch inside his trailer his fingers prodding the back of your throat. You’d learned though, you swallowed around his fingers to keep from gagging. “Ah, good girl, learning so fast.” You hummed dreamily around his fingers, this always calmed you down Eddie found out. He knew it was a oral fixation but you didn’t need to know that.

He was able to train you while giving you exactly what you needed. Pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop. You whined loudly “I still want them, daddy.” Eddie smiled “I know but I think that they’d be better touching somewhere else don’t you?” Your cheeks turned pink as you nodded. “Yes, daddy want that” always so honest, just the most obedient, clueless pet.

It wasn’t the first time Eddie fingered you and it wouldn’t be the last, you loved Eddie’s cock being inside you more then anything else. “Gonna get daddy’s cock?” Eddie shook his head “mmm, not tonight babydoll.” You pouted but didn’t argue with him because you knew better. Eddie slipped his hand under your skirt and slid your panties over sinking his spit covered fingers inside with ease.

“Oh god!” You moaned out and Eddie smiled “that’s it, good girl” he praised his open hand pressing down on your stomach. Eddie started to move his fingers and your brain immediately shut down. All you could do was just moan out “oh my god” again and again. “You know, it’s not god making you feel good it’s me. Is that what I am to you baby? A god? You gonna worship me? Beg me for forgiveness when you do wrong?” You nod desperately as Eddie’s fingers work you towards a brain melting release.

“Then you should know this is a sin sweetheart, having sex before marriage is a bad thing. You’re a bad little girl. Worst in the bunch” you felt warm tears pricking your eyes “am I really b-bad daddy?” He nods a small pout forming on his lips. “Mhm, you are baby, you know you should beg me to let you cum. That’s the only way to make it better. You gotta say ‘please daddy let me cum’ you can do that.” You nodded.

“Please….please daddy let me….me cum” you whined your hips bucking to meet his knuckles as he fucked you with his fingers. “But I can’t let you cum baby. I’m a god and that’s just sinful. You should apologize” you whimpered. It was hard enough to get that out why’s he being mean.

You blinked up at him, your doe eyes entrapping his own puppy brown eyes. “Forgive me…oh god…..f-forgive me my…my god for I have sinned…ta…take away the bad things I’ve done.” You babbled it, most of it incoherent you were going dumb. “Daddy? I can cum now right? It’s better? did good!” You were crying now wanting it. Craving it. Needing your release.

“That’s a good girl, mhm you can cum baby go ahead. Covers daddy’s fingers like the good cumslut you are sweet princess.” You do too, your body clamped down on his fingers as overwhelming pleasure racked your body.

Eddie knew just how to take care of his pretty babygirl and he was always going to.

You sat on Eddie’s lap licking at the cone of cream he’d bought you. He gently tugged your chin away from the sweet treat “easy, don’t give yourself a brain freeze baby.” You nodded and ate slower to Eddie’s approval. “Thank you bug” he pecked your cheek and you smiled widely.

You were sat at a big table with his friends, you had your favorites them starting with Gareth and ending with a very cute Robin. You held the half eaten cone out to Eddie and he chuckled “you done? Poor baby, S’Too much huh?” You nodded and Eddie smiled beginning to eat what you couldn’t. You’d lick drips off his lips or cheeks every few minutes and he’d let you his hold on you never wavering. “What time is it?” You asked and Steve checked his watch “it’s going on 8pm” you groaned “my curfew”

“Don’t worry baby I’m sure your dad will be fine if you’re a few minutes late” you nodded “he won’t care that it’s me that’s late.” Eddie rolled his eyes “hey, look at me” Eddie hooks his finger under your chin “I don’t give two fucks about what that ugly old man has to say about me alright?” You nodded and giggled. “He’s not that old….he’s only 58” Eddie chuckled “yeah, that’s old peach” you giggled and laid into his hold on you.

“You’ll always be here, right daddy?” He nodded “of course babydoll! Can’t leave my little girl alone.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “Who else will you beg for forgiveness when you’ve sinned, hmm?” Your cheeks went red and you hid your face in his neck as he chuckled.

#eddie munson #fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #tw; religious kink #dom!eddie #daddy!eddie #tw; daddy kink

[cryptixani]

this is pure pwp and sacrilege. fem reader. minors dni.

father geto was a pious man.

he donned his cassock with a devoted pride, spent his days delivering masses that were so holy and wonderful that they filled the church every sunday. he prayed devoutfully, opened the confessional booth on a weekly basis, kept the church tidy and decorated dedicated his time to helping churchgoers, volunteered to help at charity events and visited the sick and elderly.

he was everything that a perfect priest should be, the definition of a gentle giant. people all over your fairly small and religious town had naught but praise for him, filled with wonder and swooning at his very name. his exemplary behaviour didn't help much with how handsome he was - the youngest priest the town had seen in a while, only around 27. with long dark hair that he always kept at least half up in a top-knot, some loose strands falling over his face. warm, smooth, unblemished skin. deep, intelligent violet eyes. a sturdy, tall build that emanated safety and protection, a guardian figure.

father geto wasn't just respected, he was loved. loved for his good looks, yes, but also his kindness, his generosity, his dedication to the people, his goodness, like an early saint.

...

...so then why was he so sinfully cruel when he ate out your cunt right on top of the altar table?

his big hands curled tight around the soft meat of your thighs, holding your legs apart. his collar was undone, leaving a slither of neck visible. the tall stone walls of the parish echoed the sounds of wet slurping and poorly muffled moans.

"f-fath- hnng, fathe- hahh-..."

you could barely even coordinate his name. geto peered up at you over your front, fox-like eyes gleaming with amusement. he didn't reply, his tongue already busy with your soft pussy. he alternated between clit and opening, sucking and licking, and the more juices he lapped up the more seemed to leak out of you.

the pristine white altar table cover was surely stained by now, though neither of you seemed to care. you were too deep into having your pussy ate, and geto was too focused on overstimulating you.

he was doing a good job, of course. if it weren't for his hands gripping you tight, your hips would be stuttering and squirming like possessed.

you came again with a cry, hardly quietened by your hand over your mouth, and geto couldn't help but think about how much you reminded him of a sacrificial lamb right now. restrained, quivering, helpless, laid out on an altar in front of your god.

except he, unlike the biblical god, didn't know much of mercy.

"that's it," his caramel voice was soft and low, a hint of rasp giving away his arousal, "good fuckin girl. so-" a pause to give your twitching clit another quick suck, "-so good f'me."

you didn't have much time to come down, maybe a minute or so where geto decided to kiss and lap at the warm skin of your inner thighs instead, before you knew he'd be back to the source for more. it was his forbidden fruit. or was it your forbidden fruit, and he was the snake tempting you? you weren't sure. your mind was too hazy for metaphors right now.

"had enough, lamb?" father geto cooed, and you suppressed a shudder just at the look that he gave you - a dark, smug smile and narrowed eyes. his tone was almost mocking. "poor thing."

your soft pants began to come down, and you could just about form a coherent sentence now.

"f-father-" you mewled, the almost pitiful sound echoing off the church walls, "wan' more."

geto's smile broadened. he tilted his head, and you could swear his energy shifted a bit.

"oh, more?" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your mound. "don't worry, lamb. this is my favourite form of prayer. i won't be done anytime soon."

he delved back in. greed was a damning sin.

#geto x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto suguru #getou suguru x you #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto smut #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru smut

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 21 — Thigh Fucking

Pairing || Beefy!CatholicPriest!Bucky x Inexperienced!Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 2000

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Dark/Taboo Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, non-con, explicit content/language, pet names, religious themes, blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, biblical references, sexual content involving a catholic priest, strict/religious parents, age-gap (Reader is early 20s, Bucky is early/mid 30s), Father kink, priest kink, size kink, corruption kink, authority kink, inappropriate/forceful touches, begging, thigh fucking, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Kinktober Masterlist

Most Sundays after mass, you would accompany Father James in tidying up the beloved church of your small community. Some people would probably be annoyed being tasked with cleaning and organising, but you seized every opportunity to be in his presence, knowing what it would most likely lead to when you and he were alone.

You were in the process of placing Bibles on the pews in front while casually humming along to the soft radio echoing through the vast and holy hall. Your mid-length dress rose slightly as you bent over to place the books down. It was such a small gesture that you didn't think much of it, but it seemed like someone had caught a glimpse of you.

It was hard to ignore the manifestation that lurked up behind you—the essence that exuded from him. His unholy and ungodly behaviour was out to show and play. All of his holiness put away for the day.

His broad and muscular chest made soft contact with your back—a significant contrast to the determined power that radiated from him. You automatically tilted your head slightly to the side as your body had become accustomed to this scenario since it wasn't the first time Father James had crept up behind you like this.

His lips skimmed your earlobe, and his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, making a wave of shivers flow down your spine. He placed his colossal palm on your clothed mound, pulling you flush into his firm chest, making you lightly gasp. The hardness that outlined his tight pants rubbed against your behind, and he groaned so deep in your ear that you felt a delicious tingle in your stomach.

“When will you finally let me defile this innocent little cunt of yours, sweet thing?” His alluring voice dropped an octave lower when he spoke, making your knees almost buckle at the sinister tone. You clutched a bible tightly to your chest, making Father James chuckle as you held onto the frail words of God, but that wouldn't help you here when the mighty Devil had come out to play.

This wasn't the first time Father James had shown you the ways of impureness, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But losing your virginity? That was a step you were not ready to take, not yet, at least. You weren't willing to give up your pureness, not when it was so engrained in your brain by your strict religious parents that sex was a great sin unless conducted between a man and a woman that had been wed in holy matrimony.

“When will you finally let me corrupt this tiny pussy, angel?” He uttered again as he groped your covered core, wanting an answer from you.

Father James had never forced his way on you in the sense of penetrative sex, but he did lust for it every sexual moment you had together, and it seemed like he was trying his hand on it again. But you just couldn't.

“Father, I-I can't. I-I'm sorry.”

He groaned in slight annoyance as he put more pressure on your poor core, making you shut your eyes tight before he loosened his grip. You felt ashamed that you couldn't please him the way he wished the most, but you wanted to make him satisfied in a way he had taught you some weeks ago.

“But, I-I can get on m-my knees a-and worship you.”

He chuckled darkly at your willingness to submit to him in the sense of wicked prayer and worship.

“Or, we can both be pleased and blessed at the same time while still keeping the pureness that you so desperately hold on to.”

“I-I don't understand, Father.” You'd only known blowjobs and fingering from him. What other possible solutions did he have for pleasure that didn't involve those two and penetrative sex?

“Let me show you.” He growled like a possessed man.

He came to stand in front of you, towering over your small frame with his enormous one, a sinister smirk and a sinful glimmer in his eyes. His pants and long-sleeve shirt were as dark as his demeanour. The white clerical collar was the only thing that indicated that this was a man of God, after all. You practically shook, in both exhilaration and horror, for what his wicked plan was as you peered up at him.

He took the book from you and tossed it to the side before he sat down at the pew and relaxed his arms on the back of it, and spread his thick legs. Since he was now at your eye level, it was a little less scary, but still, you became flustered as you stared into his crystal eyes with hints of darkness, so you averted them to the floor as you twiddled with your fingers.

“Take off your dress.”

Your eyes went wide at his words. You've never undressed for him, ever. The thought terrified you—in both factors that it was sinful to reveal your flesh and fear that Father James would be disappointed in what you had to offer.

“Father, I-”

“Take. It. Off.”

With shaking hands, you slowly lifted the dress off your body and let it drop beside you. Once it was off and you stood bare in front of him with nothing on than your peachy cotton underwear. His devilish behaviour displayed a hint of softness as he leaned forward a little, and his lips parted in awe.

The way his eyes skimmed all over your untouched flesh made you incredibly shy to be so exposed to him, so you brought your hands up to cover yourself, prompting Father James to be highly disappointed.

“Hey,” he took your hands in his and pried them away from your body and pulled you to him until you stood between his open legs. “Don't shy away from me, sweet thing,” you met his eyes again that now held nothing but adoration in them, “you're the most perfect angel ever to walk this earth. God spent his time perfecting your beautiful body. So pretty, sweet one.” Heat rose to your cheeks at his sincere compliments.

“T-thank you, Father.”

As quickly as his sweetness came, it disappeared in a flash, and he returned to his true and wicked nature. He chuckled darkly as he undid his belt and pants, pulling them down with his underwear until his mighty impressive dick stood heavy and erect. The sheer size of him always left you astonished and nervous at the same time.

Father James always found it amusing how innocently in awe you were at the size of him. He took great pleasure in how his dominant and assertive demeanour contrasted to your innocent and inexperienced one. It drove him wild with desire.

“Turn around for me.”

With wobbly legs, you turned around until you faced the altar, peering up at Jesus hanging from the cross as you said your forgiveness for the great sin that would be conducted in this holy church.

“Oh, sweet little thing.” His massive palms took a soft grasp on your hips and pulled you closer until the back of your thighs met his inner ones, and his throbbing length rested against your behind. “You're so godly perfect,” he mumbled, softly kissing your shivering spine.

He peeled your panties off and quickly found your folds as he ran his fingers through the sticky arousal, making a breathy and needy sound escape your mouth as he played with you.

“Your little pussy is so messy, sweet thing. Are you sure you don't want me to take your innocence? It seems like your pretty cunt wants it.”

“N-no, Father,” you softly sobbed.

Suddenly, his fingers disappeared and were replaced with his bulbous head teasing your quivering opening. You tried wiggling away from him, but he kept a steady and firm grip on your mound.

“I can just slide in here, you know. Force my cock through your tiny velvet walls and split you in half. It's not like a frail little girl like you can stop me,” he sneered as he pushed just half an inch inside you.

“N-no, Father, p-please,” you cried as you shut your eyes tight, forcing tears back. Your fingernails dug into his plump thighs to brace yourself in case he didn't care for your pleas to stop.

“It's ok, sweet thing.” He kissed your spine again as an apology for taking it a little too far. “I won't be that cruel. Let’s both be blessed and pleased while still keeping within your boundaries, yeah?”

“Y-yes, Father.”

He situated the upper side of his thick length against your delicate flower. “Keep your thighs closed. I need you nice and tight for me,” he demanded in a husky tone.

You closed your thighs around his whole dick, moaning softly as he throbbed against your leaking folds. A groggy groan sounded from him as you squeezed hard, resulting in some of his pre-cum squirting out of his tip and coating your bundle of pleasure.

“Please,” you pleaded sweetly, making him groan against your spine as he left a sloppy kiss on your skin.

He took a firm grip on your hips, wanting total control of your body. With a heavy grunt, he drags himself back before pushing forward between your folds again, his tip flickering your sensitive nerve, making you gasp softly at the buzzing tingle.

His groans are thick and heavy as he moves with slow movements into you repeatedly. His dick splits your folds in half as he runs through your slick mess with his girth while his bulbous head bumps and leaks against your tingling and needy nerve with each slow and torturous thrust. The slickness makes it easier for him to pump through your tight flesh effortlessly.

“Father, it feels so good,” you mew as your eyes struggled to stay open as you peered up at Jesus on the cross again, who looked mighty disappointed at the violation happening in his church.

Your soft and pretty whines and cries prompt Father James to handle your body with such ease as he drags you into his heavy and rough thrusts, making your luscious behind smack against his pelvis.

“God, your thighs feel amazing, sweet thing. I can imagine how good your tiny hole must feel. One day I'll corrupt it and make you all mine,” he groaned possessively, making your empty walls flutter around nothing.

A swarm of tantalising butterflies tingled and teased at the pit of your stomach, aching to be released and provide that heavenly and sinful sensation that would ascend you into pleasure.

“O-oh, Father, please. I-I,” your words were broken off by a series of high-pitched moans and whines as you came for him. Your body shaking, and hadn't it been for Father James holding you up; you would have collapsed to the floor due to the raging intensity coursing through your nerves.

His hips stuttered as his thick and raspy voice sang praises to the good Lord while his holy seed painted your swollen folds and stomach. He was breathing heavy and hard as he thrust through both of your highs, making sure you both felt blessed and satisfied.

He hissed while you whined when he pulled away from your tight and used flesh, plopping you down on his lap and making you rest your head on his strong shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your frail and tired body as he gave you some much-needed gentle care and love.

“Good girl,” he praised you while you melted further into his warm and comforting touch as he kissed your forehead, making you sigh in relief and contentment.

“T-thank you, Father.”

“No, thank you, sweet thing. For keeping myself and the Lord happy.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #priest!bucky #priest!au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel smut

[mellowswriting]

i work this weekend so i’m sending this in early but; Soap with a breeding kink 😩 he wants a huge family idc

babe. you are so right. don’t even get me started on how crazy he would be when you’re actually pregnant 😩

sinful sunday

Johnny talks about it constantly. He muses about what life would look like with a few little ones running amok; a full house, the sound of little feet stampeding through the halls, raising little warriors that look like the two of you. He doesn’t push or pressure you, of course. He’s more than willing to wait until you’re ready - but that doesn’t stop him from waxing poetic about how amazing it will be. The moment you tell him you’re ready to start trying, his brain bluescreens from the rush of different emotions. 

“Dinnae say that to me, hen.” He whispers, eyes wide. “Not unless you really mean it.” 

“Well, I stopped taking the pill and I saw my doctor.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you settle in his lap. He looks at you like you’re blowing his mind and giving him the entire universe all at once. His hands come to rest at your waist, his touch gentle and reverent. “Plus, both my calendar and the test I just took say I’m ovulating.” 

John blinks up at you, still buffering as he processes. “So… you really mean it?” 

“Yeah, you dork. I really mean it.” 

Your over-preparedness was a necessity because you knew for a fact that the moment you told him, he would not rest until he knocked you up. Getting everything squared away meant all that pent-up eagerness would be put to good use - and boy, does John really use it. 

It’s been at least thirty-six hours since you’ve seen anything besides the four walls of the bedroom you share with your baby fever stricken husband. You feel hot, your body wracked with trembles as his softening cock slips out of your well-fucked pussy. Fuck, you never knew it was possible to feel so empty yet so full at the same time. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, how many orgasms he’s pulled from your strung out body, how many times he’s buried himself deep and filled you with his seed. 

“There you go, that’s my girl.” Johnny sighs, honeyed reverence dripping from his lips. His big, warm palms slide up your thighs and squeeze gently, tenderly helping you come down from the rigorous way he’s worked you over. His eyes are bright with affection as he looks over you for even the slightest sign of pain or discomfort. “You look so pretty full of my cum. Gonna look even prettier with my baby in your belly.”

“Fuck, John…” The roughness of your voice makes him smile. He’s always had a thing about this - you all sweaty and fucked out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name, your body prone and trembling beneath him. John thrives on being a good husband and right now, that means knocking up his pretty little wife. His cock twitches, already half hard and nudging your thigh. You give him an incredulous look and huff out a disbelieving laugh. “How are you still hard?”

“Can ya blame me?” John’s eyes trail down your body and he shakes his head. “I mean, look at you… my gorgeous wife, all fucked full a’ me…” 

His praise sends you flush with warmth, stokes the flames of arousal in your belly. The effect he has on you is intoxicating. Your body aches with overstimulation yet John gives you that appreciative look, his eyes bright with desire, and you ache for more. His hand slips down to trace the mess he’s made of you and you concede to him, spread your thighs and welcome the pleasure-pain of his touch. 

“Just one more, hen. One more and I’ll let ya rest. Gotta make sure it takes, don’t we?” He babbles as he presses close and hooks your legs around his waist. The kiss he drags you into is messy, all spit and tongue and desperation. He drinks in the sound of your cry as he slides into your abused pussy, meeting no resistance as his cum leaks out around his cock. “ I’ll do all the work, you just lay back and let me make you feel good, yeah?  That’s it, good girl…” 

#sinful sunday #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader smut #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #john mactavish smut

[vs-redemption]

Soft Sunday: Waking Up On The Weekend

(with: Iwaizumi, Bakugo, Kenma, Tsukki)

⚠️warning⚠️: I did include suggestive content in this. It's not detailed or anything but I'm just letting anyone know who might feel uncomfortable.

Iwaizumi

He didn't used to think much about what he wore to bed until he realized you liked having access to his bare chest and arms. After that he makes a point of going to bed shirtless with just his boxers on, or a pair of pajama pants if it's chilly.

His morning routine used to be a protein shake, work out, and maybe a jog. Now though, he can't help but linger in bed. He loves sleepy little chats in the morning as your hands roam over his skin.

If the mood hits, he's not opposed to getting spicy and indulging in you in the morning. He can count that as his work out and honestly he just likes starting his day off making you feel so loved and cared for.

He definitely wasn't a breakfast person before you, but now he has all your favorite breakfast foods and how you make your coffee memorized.

He enjoys having you in the kitchen with him as he cooks so he can talk and flirt with you, especially if you're just hanging out in one of his shirts or something.

As grouchy and stern as he comes off at first, he really does thrive in a domestic setting. He has such a nurturing personality and he loves being able to take care of the person he loves.

Bakugo

He knows you like his muscles but doesn't really get why. To him, they are a means to an end (being a strong hero). Lucky for you though he sleeps in a sleeveless t-shirt so you can enjoy his beefy arms as he holds you close.

Holding you close is nice physically, sure, but for him it's more about the need to keep you safe. He sleeps better when he knows you're safe in his arms.

Lazy mornings aren't really his thing. He gets fidgety and impatient if he's in bed too long. If you wake up before him though, you'll notice that he does pull you closer and linger for just a moment or two before kissing your head and rolling out of bed.

Cooking is one of his love languages, and it fills him with pride to get up and cook you the most mouth watering meals. He's happy to serve you breakfast in bed, but it's better if you can find the motivation to get up and follow him to the kitchen because watching him cook the food is half the fun. He has no idea how sexy he is in the morning, standing at the stove with his arms on display. Not to mention the sinful sweatpants he wears.

Kenma

He is not a morning person at all. Even during the week he doesn't have to wake up for work too early, so he'd definitely rather sleep in on the weekends too.

He can be pretty clingy in the morning and will get a little grumpy if you try to make him get up before he's ready or if you accidentally wake him up when you get out of bed to use the bathroom or something.

Comfort is important to him, so he dresses according to the temperature, not what he thinks makes him look sexy. The good thing about this though is that he's always cozy and ready to cuddle.

Cooking is not his forte, so you will not catch him using his morning time making breakfast when he could be lounging in bed with you. He is good with a piece of toast or a bagel once he finds the energy to wake up.

Sometimes though, he doesn't mind waking up and having you for breakfast. It doesn't really take that much effort on his end and he knows you (both) deserve a treat too after a long week.

Tsukki

He isn't the most confident about his looks, so he also dresses more for comfort than anything else for bed. Usually he's in a tshirt and shorts or pajama bottoms.

In the morning he might be a little self-conscious about his messy hair, morning breath, or even how he looks without his glasses.

He does like to cuddle in the morning though. He likes being the big spoon so he can hide his face against your shoulder. He also likes being in a position to have his hands on your chest (whether you have boobs or not... he wants to touch your chest.)

Sexy stuff isn't usually on his mind in the morning, but if you instigate anything he is definitely on board.

Making breakfast isn't his favorite, but he will if that's what you want. He'd much rather take you out to breakfast though, either at a cafe or a diner. He likes getting the fresh air and the opportunity to just talk and spend time with you.

tagging: @bisexualturtledove @honeybunny-sawamura @no1frogfan

#soft sunday #Katsuki Bakugo x Reader #Katsuki Bakugo headcanons #Hajime Iwaizumi x Reader #Hajime Iwaizumi headcanons #Kozume Kenma x Reader #Kozume Kenma Headcanons #Iwa x reader #Kenma x reader #Bakugo x Reader #Kei Tsukishima x Reader #Kei Tsukishima headcanons #Tsukki x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader #Haikyuu Headcanons #BNHA x Reader #MHA x Reader #MHA headcanons #BNHA headcanons

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter two: behind your father’s home

dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 1 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6

summary: you make plans with your mystery man from the bar the night before, only to end up having to cancel when your dad tells you he invited his best friend and his family over for sunday night dinner. when they show up, you’re shocked to find that you and your dad's best friend have already met once before. a moment alone after dinner ends in a way you never would've imagined.

word count: 3.8k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, smut, unsafe p in v, dirty talk, pet names, no use of y/n, after this one joel is going to be an ass so…. enjoy it while it lasts. i think that’s it let me know if I missed anything pls!

notes: okay part two is here!! it’s going to get a bit angsty after this, but i’m so excited to share this chapter <3

thank you again to my bestie @shatteredbaby for proofreading, ilysm babe 🤍

The next morning you’re surprisingly not hungover from last night’s events. You roll over to grab your phone and check the time, then you see a text from an unknown number on your screen.

I’d love to take you out tonight, if you’re willing. Let me know if you’re free. -The Contractor

You smile and let out a content sigh as you think of a reply.

Sure, maybe you can tell me your name then, mystery man ;)

It’s nearly noon when you put your phone back down on the nightstand and leap out of bed. You sprint down the stairs and walk into the kitchen to see your dad sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and reading something on his phone. You walk past him headed straight for the coffee pot.

“Morning, heard you come in last night. Was expecting you to be out later.” It comes out more as a question as he looks away from his phone and up at you.

“Oh yeah, Dee drank too much so we left pretty early.” You turn around towards him and lean back on the counter as you sip your coffee.

He puts his phone down and leans back in his chair. “Well we’re having guests later, I forgot to tell you.” He clears his throat. “My buddy Joel is coming for dinner. He’s bringing his brother and his daughter too so you can finally meet them all.”

Your dad met Joel during your second year of college around the time your parents split up. You don’t know much about Joel, your dad only bringing him up from time to time, and you didn’t visit home often after going away for school so you haven’t gotten the chance to meet him before now. Since you rented an apartment with friends and also had a job in the city, you usually just stayed there over the summer. Guess you won’t be seeing your mystery man later.

“Oh,” you try not to sound upset that you’re going to have to cancel your plans later. “Yeah, I guess it’s about time I meet them.” You force a small smile.

He looks pleased by your response. “You’ll help me prep later? They’re coming around 5 since his daughter Sarah has school in the morning.”

“Yeah, of course.” Your dad offers you a small smile then returns to reading on his phone.

You walk back towards your room to get yourself together, taking your coffee with you. Once you’ve closed your door and splayed out on your bed again, you pull out your phone to type another message.

Something came up, we’ll have to reschedule. Sorry :(

You pout a bit as you hit send. A few seconds later you get a reply, heart racing as you open it.

No problem sweetheart, forgot I had something going on later anyway. We can plan for another time.

You stare at the message for a few moments, hoping he’ll actually keep his word.

You tidy up your room and throw on something casual, a few minutes later hearing your dad moving around downstairs, before calling up to you.

“I’m leaving! Going to get some things for later tonight, be back in 20!”

“Okay! I’ll be here when you get back!” You call back to him.

You hear him shut the door as you lay back on your bed. Memories from the night before of your mystery man, the contractor, start playing through your head. Thinking about the way his large hands grabbed at your waist while he was kissing you sends a shiver through your body. You’re guessing he’s quite a bit older than you, considering the bit of gray in his hair and scruff. You’d never entertained the thought of seeing someone older than you, but this man was quite literally gorgeous. His side profile, the slope of his nose and his sharp jaw kept your eyes glued to him practically all night. You decide to whip out your phone and text him again.

Does Tuesday work? I don’t wanna wait much longer than that, Mystery Man.

You bite your cheek as you nervously wait for his reply.

“Perfect, wouldn’t want to keep you waiting, Killer.”

You smile at the nickname, then quickly type out a reply.

Good to know ;)

“How’s 8 sound? I’ll pick the spot.”

You hear your garage door opening and peek out your bedroom window to see your dad pulling in.

Can’t wait, gtg… don’t forget about me.

“Impossible.”

Your cheeks heat a bit at his last message. It would also be impossible for you to forget about him. You run down the stairs to help your dad unpack the things for tonight and start prepping.

It’s about 5:30 when your dad sends you out to the back porch to set up the table with plates and utensils, seeing to it that everything’s in order by the time your guests arrive. You’re still pretty bummed about canceling your plans tonight, but you can’t help but think about what could be in store for Tuesday. You’re busy finishing the set up when you hear some commotion inside, your back is to the door when you hear it slide open.

“Honey! I want you to meet my buddy Joel, his daughter Sarah and his brother Tommy. They live a few houses down.” Your dad sounds ecstatic.

You turn around quickly, smile plastered on your face, and then you’re frozen in place as your eyes meet with his.

Fuck.

Your heart drops, there’s a lump in your throat and it feels like someone’s squeezing your chest. You open your mouth like you’re going to speak but nothing comes out.

Your mystery man from the night before, the attractive older contractor that you were all over last night, is your dad’s best friend.

Joel steps through the glass door to the back deck, following your dad. Your back is facing him and as soon as you turn around, his eyes practically pop out of his head. It’s you. The beautiful girl he was with last night who’s going to be the death of him. He knows it now for certain. He can tell you’re just as shocked as he is by the way you’re standing there, perfect lips parted like you’re unsure of what to say. It feels like time has slowed down and he needs to get it together. He swallows back the lump in his throat and wipes his palms on his jeans.

“Uh, nice to finally meet you.” Joel reaches his hand out to shake yours.

He watches you closely as you pause for a moment staring at his hand, then slowly reach yours out to meet his. The touch of your soft hand immediately sends a shock of electricity through him.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself and your name leaves your lips, voice sounding so soft and sweet.

He feels weak in his knees finally hearing your name. Joel’s eyes are glued to you as you wave to Sarah and Tommy, introducing yourself again.

He’s so fucked.

Your dad is completely oblivious of the tension between you two, which is for the better. “Well c’mon, let's sit and eat.” he smiles and pulls out his chair.

You sit next to your dad who’s at the head of the table, across from Joel, and Sarah to your right. You won’t even look him in the eyes, which may be for the better, he thinks. He still can’t take his eyes away from you for more than a second.

“Mitch, you didn’t have to do all this.” Tommy says to your dad.

Joel watches you closely as you look over at Tommy.

“Oh it’s no big deal, this one helped me out,” your dad points to you with his thumb and you turn to him with a smile. “Anyway, it’s about time we have a proper dinner with all of us together.”

Your eyes flick to Joel’s for a second then back to your plate.

“So, where was it you were going to school again?” Tommy asks you.

“The Art Institute of Chicago.” You smile softly at Tommy.

“Oh, Art major?”

“Well,” You tilt your head side to side contemplating. “I studied Architecture.”

“Wow” he sounds surprised.

Joel is just as surprised. You didn’t mention any of this last night, but he also didn’t ask. He never even got your name, it was exciting in the moment how fast things were going. He never would’ve even imagined this would happen. What were the odds, his best friend’s daughter.

“So Sarah, you started senior year last week, right?” Your dad asks her.

“Yeah, already can’t wait to get it over with.” She rolls her eyes and smiles.

You turn towards her, “Have you thought about where you’ll apply for college yet?” You ask her.

“Probably UT and a few other schools in state, maybe some others, we’ll see.” Sarah smiles at you.

Joel decides he’s ready to speak, still a little shaken up. “So uh,” you freeze and look at him with wide eyes. “How come ya never visited home while gone at school?”

“I had a job up there, well, more like an internship,” you clear your throat. “I was also leasing an apartment so it was easier for me to stay during the summer, I sometimes would come visit for a weekend.” You’re looking down at your lap now.

“You found a job since coming back?” Tommy cuts in.

“No, applied for a few but nothing yet.”

Your dad rests his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “You’ll hear back from one soon bud, don’t worry.” You nod your head.

The rest of the meal is filled with chatter all over. Joel notices you’re avoiding him and that your conversation with Tommy is much more recurrent than with him - he’s growing bothered by it.

Once you’re all done eating, everyone goes inside for a beer, except for Sarah. You continue avoiding Joel, not even glancing towards him once you’re inside. While he talks with your dad and Tommy in the kitchen, you sit in the living room chatting with Sarah. He tries his best not to stare at you the whole night but he’s finding it hard.

Around 8 everyone finishes their first round, and shortly after, Sarah tells everyone she’s leaving because of school in the morning.

“See you later Sar, be safe walking.” Joel hugs her and kisses her head.

“Dad,” she whines. “It’s basically across the street.”

Joel laughs and squeezes her shoulder.

“Bye Sarah, it was nice finally meeting you” you’re smiling at her.

“You too.” She gives you a small hug and then is waving bye before walking out the front door.

“Text me when you’re home!” Joel calls out to her before the door closes.

Your dad grabs another round of beers from the fridge and hands them out. Joel needs it at this point, he needs to loosen up. He feels like he’s been tiptoeing around everything for the past few hours.

“Hey bud, do you mind cleaning up out back?” Your father asks you.

“Yeah, no problem.” You take a sip of your beer and set it on the counter before going out the back door.

“I’ll see if she needs some help, it’s the least I can do.” The truth is, Joel’s dying to talk to you, alone.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that.” Joel smiles at your dad before walking towards the door.

Joel steps out onto the patio and sees you struggling to put down the umbrella in the center of the table. He slides the door shut and moves behind you, resting his hand on your lower back, reaching past you.

“Here, let me help you.” His voice is deep and it slightly startles you.

You turn towards him with wide eyes, then step back to let him help. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Thank you.” You whisper before clearing your throat. “I have to put it in the shed.” You gesture towards the side of the house.

He lifts it nonchalantly. “I’ll carry it for you.” He turns around and your eyes scan his form.

You don’t say a word before turning to walk towards the shed. He takes that as the cue to follow you. You still haven’t said a word to him and he’s itching to know what’s going through your mind. Are you thinking about last night as much as he is? It was killing him to sit across from you at dinner and not get more than a few glances from you.

When you get to the shed, you turn around to grab the umbrella from him, hands brushing his slightly before turning back to open the door. The look that was on your face tells him that you’re thinking about something and he can only imagine what. When you’re done, you close the door to the shed and turn back to him, standing there for a moment. Joel looks at you, lips slightly parted like he’s going to say something, but he decides not to.

“Thanks.” Your eyes flicker up to his before walking right past him.

The two of you start walking towards the house, Joel following behind you. You’re about to turn the corner back to the deck when you stop in your tracks. Joel freezes as you turn around to face him, a worried look plastered on your face.

The sun has set below the sky now, a bluish glow cast on everything in sight. The way your cardigan has slipped down exposing your shoulder has been driving him mad and it’s taking everything in him to not reach out and touch your soft skin. He just watches you for a moment waiting for you to say something, anything.

You take a deep breath. “Listen I-“ it comes out a little shaky. “I know this is probably really weird and, trust me, this is the last thing I was expecting.” It all comes spilling out so fast. “My dad’s best friend, it’s a little fucked up. So if you want to forget last night ever happened, I understand-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing you up against the side of the house and pining you there. He’s been dying to touch you since dinner, and you thought he would be able to resist you? You have no idea. One of his hands rests on the side of your face while the other practically claws at your waist. He finally breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath.

“I don’t, trust me, I don’t.” Part of him knows this is wrong but he can’t stop himself.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes, “Me neither.” you crash your lips into his again, balled up fist grabbing at his shirt.

He presses his growing length into you and lets out a deep groan, trailing kisses down your jaw, your neck, to your exposed shoulder.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what’s been playing through my head since last night. I want you.” He lets out a sharp breath as he nips at your shoulder and looks into your eyes again. “The things I’ve been thinking about doing to you since then…” he trails off.

Your hands fall to the hem of his shirt, gently bunching it up and laying your palms on his warm skin. He shutters and sucks in a breath.

“Well what’s stopping you, Joel?” You’re staring up at him, lips parted. He can’t read your expression.

Finally hearing his name on your lips breaks what little control he had left. He looks down at your lips, and then something inside him snaps.

Suddenly, he’s spinning you around and pressing you up against the side of your dad’s house. He has his hands around your wrists and he’s holding them up beside your head on the wall. You let out a gasp.

He’s pressed up against you, hardened cock digging into your back. “This what you wanted, sweetheart?” It comes out through gritted teeth. “Last night in the alley, this what you were lookin’ for me to do?”

You let out a loud moan “Yes Joel, please,” and his hand muffles your whimpering.

“Gotta be quiet f’me, don’t want your dad comin’ out here,” his mouth is up against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Seein’ you begging for me.”

You nod consentingly, his hand still over your mouth, face pressed up against the side of the house digging into the brick. His other hand leaves your wrist.

“Be good and keep your hands there.” He moves his free hand down to the top of your shorts, swiftly unbuttoning them and shoving them down along with your underwear.

He grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, letting out a low hum. “Mmmm,”

Then his hand slides to your front, slowly making its way to your core. He swipes his middle finger through your folds and you close your eyes, letting out a small sigh.

“So fuckin’ wet for me already.” Your hips jolt forward slightly, warmth growing in your lower belly as he swirls his finger around your bud. “You really are gonna be the death of me.” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

His hand leaves your aching center and you hear him unbuckle his belt, then the zipper of his jeans and the sound of them sliding down his thighs. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, and a moment later you feel him slide his cock between your dripping folds. You lift your hips back towards him with anticipation, giving him better access. He feels massive as he’s thrusting his cock through your wet folds.

Then without warning he’s placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He presses in slowly, making sure to give you time to adjust to his side.

“So tight,” he sounds like he was holding his breath.

He’s still pressing into you agonizingly slowly. Your eyes flutter shut as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

”Doing so good,” he praises you. “Can you be quiet for me?” You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth.

You bite your lip trying to keep quiet as he bottoms out. He pulls almost completely out, just the tip inside of you before slowly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as his fingers dig in so hard you know they’ll leave bruises. He starts to quicken his pace, taking one hand off your hips to grab your face and turn your head to face him. His body twists so his lips can meet yours in a needy kiss. The hand still on your hip moves to wrap around you and hold you against him as he pounds into you. Your back is flush against his chest as he continues with his pace. Skin against skin, the only sound as his pace continues to quicken.

He breaks the kiss and looks down at you, hunger in his eyes as he takes you in. “Joel, oh my god.” You whisper.

He looks like he’s completely in a trance, grunting with each thrust. He’s pounding into you so hard that your body is pressing into the wall more with every thrust.

“Was thinkin-” he pauses to grunt as he thrusts into you. “‘bout this,” he thrusts again “all night.” He kisses down the side of your neck, nipping at the soft skin of your shoulder.

“Joel,” it comes out breathless. “Couldn’t even look at you during dinner,” your head falls back against his shoulder and he nestles his face into your neck. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you at your words, then he’s setting a ruthless pace. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he practically growls into your skin.

The pressure in your core is building by the second, about to snap. “Close,” it’s all you can get out.

He doesn’t say anything, keeping a steady pace. You can hear his heavy breaths behind you, then it’s hitting you. White hot pleasure coursing through your body. You remove your hands from the wall and grab onto his forearm that’s pressed against your stomach. Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your other hand reaches back to grab at his hair. He’s huffing through gritted teeth with every thrust, nose pressed against your cheek.

He lets out another deep groan then stops abruptly to pull out, pushing you into the wall again as he releases himself into the grass. You turn around and look down at his hand wrapped around his cock, his other hand next to your head on the brick wall.

“Joel,” you breath out, then reach to pull up your shorts as you catch your breath.

He looks at you and there’s an expression on his face that you don’t recognize. He pulls his jeans up and tucks his softening length away, then glances up at you while trying to catch his breath. He pauses for a moment looking you up and down, then he’s walking away without a word.

You just stand there, mouth open in shock trying to wrap your head around what happened. It all happened so fast. Your dad’s probably looking for you so you try to make yourself presentable as you walk up the porch steps and go inside. When you close the door behind you, you can hear your dad in the other room.

“Bye!” The front door shuts behind him.

You stand at the back door quietly until your dad comes back into the room.

“Hey bud, thanks for cleaning up, they just left.” He smiles at you.

He left already. “Oh, no problem.” You try not to sound confused.

“Did you get a bug bite?” Your dad tilts his head to the side and points at your collarbone.

Your hand flies up to cover it. “Um, guess so.” You say quietly, moving past him quickly to go to your room.

As you make your way up the stairs your mind is racing. Why did Joel leave so fast without saying a word? When you get to your room, you look in the mirror to check your neck and there’s a small mark where Joel was nipping at you. You lightly run your hand over it and let out a sigh, then you flop down on your bed, laying on your stomach. You grab your phone, opening your text thread with him. You change his contact name from mystery man to Joel, smiling as you do so.

can’t wait to see you again on tuesday

You bite at your lip waiting for his reply, heart racing as you think about what he might say. At some point you end up drifting off to sleep.

thank you for reading!! <3 my asks are open to chat :)

tag list and some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @laurifern @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @loveisacowboyyy @eliza-8 @fellinfromthetop @sofiparallel @znerac @zfr99

#dbf!joel #joel miller smut #dbf!joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #fic: falling into my sins

[strawbeerossi]

Soulless

Pairing: Unsub!fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a femme fatale killer rises in the Greater Quantico area, it sends the BAU in a tailspin trying to figure out who this mystery woman is. What Spencer didn’t realize was that his sweet and doting girlfriend is the one committing the dark and sinful acts haunting the city and the team.

Content Warnings: Criminal Minds case matter, alcohol consumption, suggestive thoughts,some coarse language.

Word Count: 2.6K

Part one || Part two || Part three

Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist || Request

Alright! This is a three part series. I’ll upload part two tomorrow and part three on Sunday. If you remember, Soulless and Heartless were two fics I posted very early on in my account and I decided to make some modifications and come up with a third (and final) part.

A femme fatale killer exudes an intoxicating allure, her every move a calculated seduction. With a glance, she ensnares her victims, drawing them into her web of deceit and danger. Behind her enigmatic eyes lies a deadly combination of beauty, charm, and an insatiable thirst for power and control, typically things she never got before. The description was what they’d seen before.

Cat Adams and Megan Kane being perfect examples. Women who yearned for the power that men before them had taken away. It was reclaiming what was theirs in any means necessary, even if relatively innocent men were murdered for the sake of their thirst.

A femme fatale killer leaves behind a trail of bodies, each one a meticulously planned masterpiece of seduction and demise. Her victims succumb to her intoxicating charms, unaware of the danger lurking behind her captivating façade until it's too late.

Her level of sultry charm would allow her to convince them to be tied up in either a chair or to a bed, submitting to her every move before their life was abruptly ended by a razor sharp blade slitting their throats in cold blood.

This woman had erupted from nowhere within the past three months, wreaking absolute havoc on Quantico. With six bodies under her belt, the BAU was working their hardest to prevent any more. It was like this woman was yearning for power, control. She’d use her hypersexuality to her advantage.

They suspected she’d been scouting out bars or clubs, places where she would only have to flirt and entice men to come home or to some random hotel with her. It was meticulously planned. She picked the shadiest hotels meant for the likes of prostitutes, the type of people who took cash and didn’t ask questions, not having cameras or any of the like.

Nobody could ever get a description of her, any faint recollection being that she had brunette hair and a charming smile. It could’ve been any fucking woman in Quantico, there not being anything distinctive about being a brunette with a beautiful smile.

All they knew was: her personality was a lethal concoction of allure, seduction, and calculated manipulation, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. Her voice, a smoky velvet caress, carried an irresistible allure that leaves a lingering imprint on the hearts and minds of those who hear it.

The type of woman who was capable of dangerous things, maybe even being able to convince the strongest willed of men that they were well deserving of her love, her care.

The whole BAU was stumped, unsure of where to start. There was no way that they’d easily find her, so that plunged the attentive team into months and months of investigation. Even in other cases, they would always manage to fall back on the woman who was terrifying the city where they resided in when they had even a second of free time.

Garcia was doing her best to dig up the information that she needed, however with a woman who can cover her tracks, she was very careful. There was never a weapon left behind, not even single strands of hair or other DNA they could pick up on.

It was a Saturday evening whenever Spencer was being taken away from the file in his hand when he could hear a knock against his front door, only letting out a frustrated sigh due to the fact that he felt so fucking helpless. His brain normally could piece this shit together by now but whoever this woman was, she had even the greatest mind on the team stumped.

After closing the file that he’d put together himself full of his own personal research back in its spot on the shelf, he was heading over to open the door to his apartment.

He offered a warm smile seeing Y/N on the other side, holding up a bag containing some takeout along while a cup holder holding two drinks for them. “I figured you were delving into work related stuff again when you didn’t call back.” She wrinkled her nose with a smile, the woman calling at least three times while he was engrossed with the file on her. He didn’t know that quite yet, although she really did hope he wouldn’t end up figuring it out. She really did like this one, not wanting to slit his throat from the smallest interactions.

It started out as a thing where she knew she’d have to slowly attack the team personally, which she wasn’t expecting to actually fall in love with the loving, sometimes awkward genius.

“Buy a girl a drink?” Her voice, like a melodic symphony, gracefully cuts through the calm atmosphere of the bar, captivating the patron beside her with his undivided attention. “Consider it done.” The man chuckled, holding up a moment to catch the bartender’s attention when he got a moment.

He had a tall and lean physique, wearing a signature tailored suit, which accentuated his refined and intellectual demeanor. His light brown hair was styled in a tousled manner, his curly hair falling to his shoulders yet still brushed back from out of his face. His expressive hazel eyes conveyed both a hint of brilliance and deep empathy, catching the essence of his good natured soul.

His voice could’ve been described as a soft-spoken and articulate tone, often filled with a hint of curiosity and genuine enthusiasm. His voice carries a unique blend of intelligence, empathy, and a touch of vulnerability, drawing anyone who listens to him in. He was a man who could get anyone’s attention. “What’re you drinking?” He asked, his eyebrow raising as he offered a slight smile.

“A cherry vodka sour.” Y/N answered, her chin resting against the palm of her hand as she was mesmerized by Spencer’s captivating features. He had hair that she wouldn’t mind pulling by roughly while she was focused on getting herself off, her hips rocking back and forth on top of him in an effort to get herself off and worry about him later, eyes that she could already see being glossed over with tears from begging for his own release that she wouldn’t grant until she was damn good and ready.

Once her drink was brought out to her, the woman was letting her fingertips slowly trace over the rim of the glass, her gaze still laser focused. “You got a name, stranger?” She asked, reaching in her drink for the cherry that had been dropped in. “You don’t look like the type who has to sit alone at a bar at the end of the night.” She began, her tone dropping to a more flirty one. “I’d think you have a wife you need to get home to, ready to greet you at the door.” She continued on, her eyes fixed on the luscious red cherry resting atop its stem. She brought the fruit to her lips, parting them ever so slightly. She captured the cherry between her teeth, savoring the tartness that exploded upon her tongue.

At this point, her gaze was locked with the man beside her as she pulled the stem from the cherry with a tantalizing slowness, her lips glistening with a hint of juice. As the fruit disappeared into her mouth, her tongue danced, relishing in the flavor. With each sensuous bite, her movements became a seductive display of pleasure. As she noticed those beautiful hazel irises disappearing because of blown out pupils, she knew she had him reeled in.

“Sp-Spencer Reid.” The man’s voice stuttered, leaning against the bar while his gaze was fixated on the captivating and down right sinful looking woman beside him. “And no, no wife at home.” He chuckled at the thought. After Maeve, he didn’t see himself settling down if he were honest. Max was someone who he was seeing for a while, although things just didn’t seem to work out between them. Dating a man who had a non-stop busy life was hard, he recognised that. He didn’t blame her when she let him down gently.

“That’s too bad.” Y/N tutted, her tongue collecting the cherry juice that was shining on her lips. “A man like you deserves to have a lady to take care of him.” She was now slowly moving to the edge of the bar stool in an effort to get closer. To her joy, Spencer didn’t even move the more she got closer. “Maybe I can show you just how you deserve to be treated, wouldn’t you like that, Spencer?” She had a glint of mischief in her eyes, her hand coming out to rest on his upper arm.

The mere touch sent electricity through Spencer’s whole body, falling right into the potential trap of a murderous woman who he was hunting, who he had long forgotten about as the conversation with Y/N began. She was captivating, a succubus who was slowly luring him in with her intoxicating charm, already starting an addiction that Spencer feared he wouldn’t be able to get over, knowing that once he’d gotten even the smallest taste of the mischievous and beautiful creature beside him, he’d be a goner.

The night went on from there, the woman straying far from her usual routine and ending up at Spencer’s apartment instead, where the two spent all night having delicious, toe curling sex that was enough to make the woman want to marry him and give him everything he ever needed right on the spot. It was late, nearing four in the morning and five orgasms later when the two were finally collapsing on the king sized bed, ending up with Spencer grabbing her by the waist and pulling her frame up against his, the male whispering about how he wanted her to stay overnight with him and allow him to hold her, rather than throwing her out or calling a cab.

That led to an obsession. An obsession that had taken over Y/N’s life. She continued to kill in brutal ways but then she’d go over to her boyfriend’s place and spend the rest of the night with him afterwards. That was always the thing she needed after a killing. Her boyfriend. She knew that the plan of destroying the behavioral analysis unit had been foiled, due to the sheer fact that Spencer loved all of them like family. Last thing she’d ever do was take his family from him.

“How is the case going?” Y/N asked as she had already gotten their food distributed on their own plates, however she knew there would be a point where Spencer or herself would swipe something from each other’s plates. “It’s exhausting.” Spencer answered honestly. He was frustrated, angry. This should’ve been something he’d have figured out by now, there could be another body or two discovered by the end of the week and he wouldn’t have any idea where to look.

“I’m sorry, baby..” Her eyebrows furrowed as her hand was reaching over the table to take his much larger one in her hand, giving it a loving squeeze. “You’re gonna drive yourself crazy thinking about it. Why don’t you take the night off?” She asked, knowing that Spencer had his own obsession with solving the puzzle. He was forcing the pieces together, so it was no shock he hadn’t had any leads yet. “I can’t take a night off, Y/N. This bitch isn’t gonna take a night off.”

Ouch.

“I can understand that but losing your mind isn’t gonna help anyone.. It’s okay to step back from a case.” Y/N argued, a frown washing over her previously calm features. “Just trust me, okay?” She spoke, a soft smile on her face while she was walking around the table, sitting herself in her boyfriend’s lap. He was tense, presumably from every ounce of stress that was winding him up. Grabbing his fork from the table, she was getting a forkful of rice before holding it up to his mouth, just contently feeding Spencer while he was still overly wound. “I’ll make you feel much better. Promise.”

She knew she was the reason he was getting too lost in his job, sometimes neglecting food and sleep just to try and get answers. She’d have to take a break from all of this, just so she could take care of Spencer and bring his stress levels down. She’d pick back up whenever he wasn’t at a near stroke level of stress.

Dinner went by quite smoothly, the woman lovingly shushing her boyfriend when he’d try and bring up his frustrations with the case, just calmly cutting him off so she could talk about lighter topics. She asked about Henry and Michael, watching that frown on Spencer’s face falter while he was happy to talk about both of his godsons, who Y/N hadn’t met just yet. It was still a little too early on, she thought so anyway. There was a lot that came with meeting the team. She wasn’t afraid of being found out, mainly because she had Spencer infatuated with her, it wouldn’t be hard to get the rest of the team to adore her. JJ would be easy, so would Penelope, Luke and David. The trickiest one would more than likely be Emily from what she had heard about her.

As Y/N focused on washing a few dishes and silverware used with dinner, she was sending Spencer off to the couch, giving him strict instructions to relax and to leave the damn file alone. However, she shouldn’t have been surprised the moment that she exited the kitchen to see the file open, Spencer leaning back on the couch with his legs spread as he was trying to get comfortable. With a shake of her head, Y/N was heading over to the couch.

“What did I say?” Her voice was sweet, though the way she took the papers from his hand was purely out of frustration, practically snatching them. “Baby. You need to take a step back.” She sighed while moving to climb in her boyfriend’s lap again, a soft smile on her face while she could see just how tired he was the closer she got. Her hands were slowly resting against his cheeks, thumbs caressing over his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. “You’re worrying me..” She whispered, worry laced in her voice. “I don’t want you to lose your sanity over this.” She expressed her concerns like she’d done about two million times in the past, moving to lay her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder as she was holding him. The good news was, he seemed to let his body relax while he was being squeezed by the loving embrace of Y/N.

Things would be okay. He’d be okay and she’d be okay.

There were a few moments of comfortable silence, until the sound of Spencer’s phone was taking them out of tranquility. Now Y/N knew this meant that Spencer would more than likely be pulled away on a case, so she braced herself. At least she knew that she didn’t do anything this time, so it wouldn’t be about the bitch Spencer mentioned earlier.

Her gaze was fixated on his face, reading his every emotion as her tired boyfriend was picking up the phone. “Yeah, Emily?” He asked, his lips in a thin line at first. Y/N was pressing a sweet kiss over them with a reassuring smile, her hands rubbing over his chest. However, all of her hopes of it being a normal call were wiped away whenever she noticed Spencer’s face contort into one of agitation, anger. “Are you serious? Okay, okay. Yeah I’m on my way. I may bring someone with me because if it’s who we think it is, there’s gonna be trouble. I can’t risk anything.”

As soon as the phone was hung up, Y/N was looking at him in curiosity, her eyebrows raising as she waited for an explanation of why she had to go with him to the office. “The killer struck again, this time close to my apartment.”

What the actual fuck?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid series #spencer reid angst #spencer reid au #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr reid

[blazingstar29]

new Maverick headcanon that after the layton mission Iceman and Slider stay out on deployment whilst Maverick teaches at Top Gun. Without Goose, without friends he gets lonely so he starts going to church. Not because he's religious, not because he wants to repent his sins (though the guilt still weighs heavy) but because he wants to feel apart of a community. And he's straight up honest about it. When the old ladies start asking him about bible verses he just says 'I don't know any', and surprisingly they respect that. Maybe they see the dog tags and dark circles but someone will bring him frozen meals and some of the families invite him for dinner. He holds their hands and says Amen and that's enough for some reason. He's never had to do so little to be accepted.

Maybe six months down the line Ice gets shore leave long enough to come through Miramar. He arrives in town late on a saturday, with no way to find Maverick, no cell or address, he heads down to the base early on Sunday morning to find someone who knows.

"He'll be in Church," the gateman says. Ice's eyes nearly pop out of his head. Hesitantly he begins the drive to the only church in town, wondering what sort of religious nut Maverick's become. By the time he gets there the sermon must be over, but the guard was right. Maverick's there, sitting quietly with his hands shoved in his leather jacket to fight off the chill.

His boots echo painfully across the building's walls. He slides into the pew and watches the look of surprise spread across Maverick's face.

"Ice," he whispers.

"Hey Maverick. What are you doing here?"

Maverick gives him a look. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." He gives him a look, now your turn.

"I like it. It's nice to be apart of something."

He smiles gently. "Mav, your in the Navy. Your already apart of something."

"I know. I don't believe in it. Carol does, I know she believes that Goose is up there watching out for all of us. And I feel him when the sun hits the horizon and there's a glare on my canopy. I dunno. I they just accepted me. They were happy to have me. It doesn't feel like that in the Navy. They invite me round for dinner and stuff."

Ice watches him thoughtfully. "That's nice."

On their way out, a sign for donations catches Ice's eye and he digs for his wallet fumbling with the coin pocket. He wants a way to say thank you to these people for looking after his wingman when a plaque catches his eye.

Thank you for the generous donation of $700 from Lt. Pete Mitchell in memory of Lt. Nick Bradshaw.

He feeds a hand full of notes into the acrylic box.

#top gun 1986 #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Trevor Zegras (Part Twenty-Four)

SERIES MASTERLIST

previous: twenty-three

next: twenty-five

SUNDAY, APRIL 9TH

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, colecaufield, and 10,776 others

yourusername welcome to my postgame penalty box update show: slutty z edition! my mom (not shatty) was off work early enough to watch you play tonight, and she told me to announce that she remains truly amazed by your skills and can’t wait to see what you do next!

there was a total of eleven penalties, including tank’s two in ot (i still don’t know what he did to get a misconduct)— and z was one of them! i’m sorry you won’t get to eleven games without one, but i cheered! thanks for the content, babe! you looked super cute in the sin bin <3 can’t wait to commit some sins when you come home ;)

p.s. grant, baby, boo boo, ilysm but you’re public enemy number one right now. i’ll text you when that changes.

and to the love of my life, i agree with my mom. i can’t wait to see what you do next! i love you, always<3

tagged trevorzegras

view all 217 comments

jackhughes i love you, forever, soulmate❤️

yourusername i mean i love you, too, soulmate but read the room

trevorzegras this is the second time you’ve done this and for what

jackhughes @/trevorzegras to establish dominance

trevorzegras *I* love you, forever, my heart🧡 and i’ll call mom (not shatty) and tell her thank you!

yourusername good because she might be a bigger z-lieber than i am

_quinnhughes @/jamie.drysdale would you like the honor?

jamie.drysdale SAPS

user1 clearly jamie didn’t sit on y/n tonight to not post z getting hit😂

tterry19 i’ve been told to ask why grant is public enemy number one?

yourusername he knows what he did

tterry19 right of course how did i not get that

trevorzegras @/tterry19 bad dad (to y/n only) alert

user2 z’s face in the third slide is so cute!!

jamie.drysdale rip no penalty z. he had a good run.

yourusername sometimes i can still hear his voice

trevorzegras he’d like a burial at sea

yourusername @/trevorzegras too late i sent him to jersey

jackhughes @/yourusername I DON’T WANT HIM

lhughes_06 @/yourusername hard pass

user3 “slutty z edition”

user4 the question is: did the soulmates bet?

yourusername no we decided to give quintin a break

_quinnhughes thank fuck for that

colecaufield NOT MY SOULMATE

trevorzegras I’M SORRY, SOULMATE

yourusername don’t take mine and jacky boy’s brand you human dildos

colecaufield @/yourusername i’m sorry, what?

trevorzegras @/yourusername i-

jamie.drysdale AHAHAHAHA

user5 i am losing my will to live because of this team

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes our manifesting worked

trevorzegras watch your back, hughesy boys

jackhughes i think we control the fate of the universe now

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes we do

yourusername who runs the world? hughesy boys i guess

user6 my favorite menace returns

_alexturcotte i might need to change my bets

jackhughes cheater

yourusername your deadline is soon turks

colemcward @/yourusername bets?

edwards.73 @/yourusername bets?

yourusername @/colemcward @/edwards.73 care for some chaos?

#penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagind #trevor zegras insta edit #trevor zegras fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #luke hughes #ethan edwards #cole mcward #cole caufield #alex turcotte #anaheim ducks #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[sunbleachedlottielee]

Thinking about Laura Lee inviting her teammates to attend church with her before nationals, expecting not a single one to show (after all, why would they? She sees the way they roll their eyes and snicker when she suggests a pre-game prayer) but to her absolute delight, not one, not two — but four Yellowjackets show up to mass.

Lottie is the first to show up, and she’s not sure why she’s there to begin with. Raised Protestant and even then only nominally, religion has never exactly been her cup of tea, but Sunday morning she finds herself dressed and in the church parking lot before she knows what she's doing. Laura Lee nearly tackles her with a hug when she finds the lanky brunette milling about the vestibule nearly 30 minutes early; the deacon's daughter, Laura Lee eagerly reserved a pew in the front center for herself and any teammates that might show. Lottie feels increasingly at ease as the bubbly blonde gives her the rundown of what to expect, but when Laura Lee takes her hand halfway through mass for the recitation of Our Father, Lottie's heartbeat is so loud that she would've sworn it was ringing off the rafters.

Nat follows shortly thereafter, sheepishly ducking into the church and quickly crossing herself with holy water from the font. When she notices Lottie’s quirked eyebrow as she slides into the pew, she shrugs and explains “I was raised Catholic,” but doesn't add that she hasn't been since she was a child whose prayers for the violence to end went unanswered. Laura Lee’s quiet parish is much different than the boisterous Italian-American church she grew up in, but the rituals are the same regardless. She looks a little out of place in an old dress she borrowed from her mom and her leather jacket over it, and (what she considers to be) a touch of eyeliner but despite the judgmental looks of nearly everyone around her, she's entirely sober for mass. She does, however, line up for a taste of dry red communion wine even though she vaguely remembers something about needing confession first — it may be a sin, but she sees it as a well-deserved treat.

Shauna and Jackie arrive together (as always) with the stragglers only minutes before mass is supposed to start. They actually got there before Nat, but sat in the car for nearly 20 minutes because Jackie was dragging her feet about the whole ordeal. When pressed about why she even wants to go, Shauna says she has a renewed interest in the “tragic saints,” but she really just thinks it’s a good idea to double down on the latter half of pull n’ pray. Jackie eventually concedes when Shauna plays the God forbid we do something that I want to do for once card, and tries to make it seem like it was her idea to go in the name of "promoting team unity."

Jackie prays for Jeff to break up with her before she has to break up with him; Lottie prays that the butterflies in her stomach, born of forbidden feelings, will drop dead. Shauna, who still doesn't quite know how you're "supposed" to pray, steals secret glances of Jackie with her eyes squeezed tight, kneeling next to her in the pew, and feels a wretched pit of guilt opening in her stomach as she recalls just one of ten commandments: Thou shalt not commit adultery.

Laura Lee is the only one who prays that the team will win nationals, but even she knows the New Jersey state champion Yellowjackets don't need divine intervention to come out on top. After all, her biggest prayer of all had already been answered.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets drabble #lottielee #jackieshauna #lottienat #my writing #none of the other yjs told their teammates they were going to be there btw #and they go out to lunch at a diner afterwards because obviously that's the best part of church #i just need more happy laura lee #my sweet angel bb

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Mar 11, 2024

As a child of the Eighties and Nineties, I remember well that homosexuals were fair game in the mainstream media. One columnist in The Star railed against “Wooftahs, pooftahs, nancy boys, queers, lezzies — the perverts whose moral sin is to so abuse the delightful word ‘gay’ as to render it unfit for human consumption”. After the death of Freddie Mercury, sympathy in The Mail on Sunday was limited. “If you treat as a hero a man who died because of his own sordid sexual perversions,” one writer cautioned, “aren’t you infinitely more likely to persuade some of the gullible young to follow in his example?”

It was sadly inevitable that the AIDS crisis would exacerbate this ancient prejudice. A headline in The Sun declared that “perverts are to blame for the killer plague”. And while a writer for the Express held “those who choose unnatural methods of self-gratification” responsible for the disease, letters published in its pages followed suit. One reader called for the incarceration of homosexuals. “Burning is too good for them,” wrote another. “Bury them in a pit and pour on quicklime.” Someone had been reading his Dante.

I happened to come out in a much less hostile climate. In the early 2000s, we were enjoying a kind of Goldilocks moment, neither too hot nor too cold. We weren’t generally on the receiving end of homophobic slurs, but nor were we patronised by well-meaning progressives. My memory of this time was that no one particularly cared, and I was more than happy with that. Being gay for me has never been an identity, it’s simply a fact, as unremarkable as being blue-eyed or right-handed.

And so it has been troubling to see a resurgence in the last few years of the kind of anti-gay rhetoric that was commonplace in my childhood. Of course, it could be argued that the rise of social media has simply exposed sentiments that were previously only expressed in private. As Ricky Gervais has pointed out, before the digital era “we couldn’t read every toilet wall in the world. And now we can.”

Yet the most virulent homophobia appears to be coming from a new source. Whereas we have always been accustomed to this kind of thing from the far-Right — one recalls Nick Griffin’s remark on Question Time about how he finds the sight of two men kissing “really creepy” — but now the most objectionable anti-gay comments arise in online spheres occupied by gender ideologues, from those who claim to be progressive, Left-wing and “on the right side of history”. The significant difference is that the word “cis” has been added to the homophobe’s lexicon. Some examples:

“Cis gay men are a disease.”

“Cis gay men are truly some of the most grotesque creatures to burden this earth.”

“I hate cis gay people with a burning passion.”

“If you’re a cis gay man and your sexuality revolves around you not liking female genitalia I hope you die and I will spit on your grave.”

“Cis gays don’t deserve rights.”

“There’s so many reasons to hate gay people, most specifically white gays, but there’s never a reason to be a transphobe.”

“It’s time to normalise homophobia.”

Of course, any bile can be found on the internet, but these kinds of phrases are remarkably commonplace among certain online communities. Even a cursory search will reveal innumerable examples of gender ideologues casually branding gay men “fags” or “faggots”, praising the murder of gays and lesbians, and claiming that the AIDS epidemic was a positive thing. Many thousands of examples had been collated on Google Photos under the title “Woke homophobia: anti-gay hatred & boxer ceiling abuse from trans activists & gender-identity ideologues”. The site was taken down last year, presumably because it violated Google’s policy on hate speech — or perhaps because it revealed the toxicity of the ideology the company has spent so long promoting.

If such ideas were restricted to the demented world of internet activism, we might be justified in simply ignoring it. But we now know that the overwhelming majority of adolescents referred to the Tavistock paediatric gender clinic were same-sex attracted. Whistleblowers have spoken out about the endemic homophobia, not simply among clinicians but also parents who were keen to “fix” their gay offspring. And of course there was the running joke among staff that soon “there would be no gay people left”.

And now a series of leaked internal messages and videos from WPATH (World Professional Association for Transgender Health), has revealed that clinicians in the leading global organisation for transgender healthcare have openly admitted in private that some teenagers mistake being same-sex attracted for gender dysphoria. The result of the “gender-affirming” approach has amounted to what one former Tavistock clinician recently described as “conversion therapy for gay kids”. Homosexuality was removed from the World Health Organisation’s list of psychiatric disorders in 1993, and yet here we are medicalising it all over again.

So how did we reach the point where gay conversion therapy is being practised in plain sight by the NHS? Much of the responsibility has to lie with Stonewall, a group that once promoted equal rights for gay people but now actively works against their interests. It has even gone so far as to redefine “homosexual” on its website and resource materials as “same-gender attracted”. It should go without saying that gay men are not attracted to women who identify as men, any more than lesbians should be denounced for excluding those with penises from their dating pools. What trans activists call discrimination, most of us call homosexuality.

Indeed, activists often claim that “genital preferences are transphobic”, or that sexual orientation based on biological sex is a form of “trauma”. The idea that homosexuality is a sickness was one of the first homophobic tropes I encountered as a child. Now it is being rebranded as progressive.

As for Stonewall, its former CEO Nancy Kelley went so far as to argue that women who exclude trans people as potential partners are analogous to “sexual racists”. She claimed that “if you are writing off entire groups of people, like people of colour, fat people, disabled people or trans people, then it’s worth considering how societal prejudices may have shaped your attractions”. It is worth remembering that Stonewall is deeply embedded in many governmental departments and quangos, as well as corporate and civic institutions. Anti-gay propaganda is being reintroduced into society from the very top.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prosecution Service has been meeting with trans lobby groups such as Mermaids and Stonewall to discuss changes to prosecutorial policy in cases of sex by deception. Since these meetings — only revealed after sustained pressure from a feminist campaigner who submitted Freedom of Information requests — the CPS has recommended what Dennis Kavanagh of the Gay Men’s Network has described as “a radical trans activist approach to sex by deception prosecutions that would see them all but vanish”. In trans activist parlance, the barriers to having sex with lesbians and gay men are known as the “cotton ceiling” and “boxer ceiling”. Now it seems the establishment is attempting to support the coercion of gay people into heterosexual activity.

Consider a recent post on X by Stephen Whittle, OBE, a professor of equalities law at Manchester Metropolitan University. In a reply to LGB Alliance’s Bev Jackson, Whittle took issue with the notion that “love is all about genitals” (an argument that Jackson has never made). Having dismissed this straw man as “a very hetero/homo-normative perspective”, Whittle then claimed that “a lot of gay men can’t resist a young furry ftm [female-to-male] cub”.

While it is true that there are some bisexuals who identify as gay, it is simply not the case that homosexual men “can’t resist” certain kinds of women. As Jackson rightly noted in her response, this is rank homophobia, “disturbed and disturbing on every level”. Yet it has been expressed by an individual who has been described as a “hero for LGBTQ+ equality”. With heroes like these, who needs villains?

Another example is Davey Wavey, a popular online influencer, who has encouraged gay men to perform heterosexual acts in a video called “How to Eat Pussy — For Gay Men”. It may as well have been called “Gay Conversion Therapy 2.0”. We are firmly back in the Eighties, where gays are being told that they “just haven’t found the right girl yet” and lesbians are assured that they just “need a good dick”. And yet now these demeaning ideas are being propagated by those who claim to be defending the rights of sexual minorities.

The Government’s recent guidance on how schools are to accommodate trans-identified pupils — in which biological sex will take precedence over identity — has been met with horror from gender ideologues. One of the common refrains one hears from activists is that it represents “this generation’s Section 28”. But this is to get it precisely backwards. Gay rights were secured on the recognition that a minority of the population are same-sex attracted. In dismantling the very notion of sex and substituting it for this nebulous concept of “gender identity”, activists and their disciples in parliament are undoing all of the achievements of previous gay rights movements.

The widespread homophobia of the Eighties, epitomised by Section 28, was based on the notion that homosexuality was unnatural, dangerous and ought to be corrected. Present-day gender identity ideology perceives homosexuality as evidence of misalignment between soul and body. In other words, it seeks to “fix” gay people so that they fit into a heterosexual framework. It is no coincidence that so many detransitioners are gay people who were simply struggling with their sexuality. Gender identity ideology is the true successor to Section 28.

The proponents of this revamped gay conversion therapy dismiss our concerns as “transphobia” and “bigotry”, or as part of a manufactured “culture war”. Worse still, the new homophobia is being cheered on by those it will hurt most. While prominent gay figures continue to feed the beast that wishes to devour them, we are unlikely to see this dire situation improve any time soon. It was bad enough in the Eighties, when gay people were demonised and harassed by the establishment. Who thought we would have to fight these battles all over again?

#Andrew Doyle #woke homophobia #homophobia 2.0 #gay conversion therapy #gay conversion #conversion therapy #anti gay #gender ideology #gender identity ideology #queer theory #intersectional feminism #religion is a mental illness

[to-the-stars8]

Faith

Summary: Keeping faith was never easy for Jason, and the struggle creates a war in his mind that hangs between self-destructing and outright torment.

This was inspired by the artwork of @lethologicaee

Just letting you guys know that this story has a lot of heavy religious references and reflections of trauma, so if that makes you uncomfortable please do not engage with this story. Keep yourself healthy and happy, my loves.

Another warning, referenced drug use

Jason couldn’t remember what he saw after he died—if he saw anything. He only remembered seeing the Joker followed by waking up to darkness and the smell of dirt. The moment his eyes opened, not seeing but feeling the softness of his coffin, two things ran through his mind: Bruce and the noticeable absence of God. 

There was never a moment in Jason’s life when he was a religious fanatic, but there were a few years with Catherine when he went to church semi-regularly. It was right after Willis had gone to jail and before his mother had fully developed her addiction. She had come to rely on religion for some comfort and tried to teach Jason to do the same.

“How come we’re going to church now?” He had asked as she buttoned up one of his nicer jackets. His hands were still too small to properly do it himself, and they were already running late. 

She thinned her lips, thinking, and her sacred blue eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment before going back down to the buttons. “I think going to church could be good for us. I think we’ve run out of faith, and it could teach us to get it back again. To keep going.”

Jason grumbled, slightly annoyed that he had to get up so early on a Sunday morning, “And we need to go to church for that?”

“Yes,” Catherine said pointedly. 

The Gotham Parish Church was one of the biggest and one of the nicest in the city. It had been around not long before the Waynes had come and was kept up by donations from other rich Gothamite families. It was a rare beauty in the Gotham smog. A diamond on the outside, he knew for sure, but he couldn't quite say the same for the inside of it. 

Jason remembered finding it odd that he had to kneel in front of a big wooden Jesus figure but did it anyway as he followed Catherine’s lead. He stared at the figure, it was painted with vivid browns, beiges, and reds, and it left him feeling a little sad. He wondered why a man would die for people who did not care for nor knew him. He supposed it was for his godly father. 

The only reason he kept going to church willingly was for his mother. When he looked up at Catherine during prayer, he’d seen her smile for the first time in a while. She looked happy, almost younger, even. The stress from her face faded and she looked at him with so much love coupled with optimism. 

He found something similar in feeling, but couldn’t determine if it was Catherine’s contagious hopefulness or Father Thomas’ sermon of goodness in people. Eventually, Jason began to like the weekly routine and even found solace in it. He wondered if that feeling was the holy light Father Thomas talked about. 

Then, he found Catherine sitting on her bed with a needle in her arm.

Jason tried to get her help, going to Father Thomas and begging him to do something. He only patted him on the head and said, “If she has faith then God will deliver from this sin.”

Jason had felt terrified and angry. Terrified because how could he get his mother to get more faithful, especially at her lowest, when he hardly knew the meaning of it? And, was angry, because he could not fathom the sin she was committing. What kind of god would abandon someone who was sick, much less mark them as a sinner?

It stirred a holy turmoil within Jason’s young mind that came to a sudden end when he found Catherine dead on the bathroom floor. Because, with her, Jason’s faith had died, too. It wasn’t until he was in Wayne Manor did he found a little bit of that again. It wasn’t the holy kind of faith, but, rather, the faith in love. With Bruce, he began to pray again and believed that, maybe, God was still there.

Bruce wasn’t religious himself, but always told him that it was always worth believing in something. That gave Jason the courage to ask Alfred, who had mentioned that now and then he would attend church if he could join him on one of those occasions. Ultimately, nothing ever came of it. Jason tried not to dwell on what he could have been if he had gone with Alfred. 

Then, there was Sheila, and Jason had prayed for the past. He wanted a mother who he could look up to in the church light and believe wholeheartedly in God again. 

Sheila had welcomed him with open arms, but, in the end, his faith in her was ripped from him. Yet, there was still Bruce who would save him— Both of them. The love he felt for Bruce was immeasurable, just as if they had always been father and son. It was because of him Jason died still believing.  

Now, back from the dead, all that he was left with was anger and grief. He was angry at Bruce and God, and he grieved for the boy he used to be. With Bruce, his resentment was built off of another failed father who turned away; with God, it was deeper than just that. It was a fit of animalistic, sacred anger that made him want to tear the heart out of the very idea of faith with his bare teeth. Jason felt more of a fool when it came to God, tricked into hoping—praying—only to be turned away in the end. 

Did he not believe in God enough, or would he have to get down on his hands and knees to beg for an unknown forgiveness?

Jason knew it would be pathetic for him to do it, to beg for the forgiveness of another father who abandoned him, but he would do it. He’d do it until the golden rosary cut into his hands, his knees had bruises, and his mouth ran dry from begging. He’d scream and cry for it if he had to. 

He questioned if had sinned too much—If, in his initial hallowed anger, he had turned into Cain. Jason had offered the best of himself, but God had not favored him as he did others. The thought made him bitter. Jason knew it had to be a fault within him rather than God; that he didn't have the innate goodness he thought all people had. If he ever had it. 

Each time he looked at the blood on his hands, Jason only thought of one thing, the noticeable absence of God. 

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