nun wolfwood yay

(premise explained in the tags)

—on top of the dresser, i wanna undress her.

Genshin Impact Rosaria x GN!Reader.

Tags ; Explicit Sexual Content. Face-Sitting. Hair-Pulling. Light Dom/Sub. Cunnilingus. Top!Rosaria. Power Bottom!Reader. Degradation. Dirty Talk.

AN ; first fic i’m getting around to posting here and it’s the 1k essay i wrote about eating this woman out… whoops. You can find more of my fics on my AO3 under the same username! Obviously this is smut, 18+, read at your own risk. ⚠️

“Are you ready to confess?”

Her voice is like wine as she speaks, smooth and intoxicating, lulling you out of the recesses of your mind. It’s eerily similar to a predator luring out its prey, feigning innocence before it sinks its teeth into supple flesh. You suppose that’s more accurate than not, especially when it comes to Rosaria, but you both already know that she doesn’t need to catch you. No, you, her prey, come willingly. Again and again.

She’s straddling your head, entirely nude save for white gloves and the metallic claws she loves to clink together when she’s bored. Despite her title of “Sister”, Rosaria looks like sin incarnate. You can see the arousal smeared between her thighs, the folds of her cunt glistening in the low lamplight. You can’t deny that it makes you a little smug, being able to have such an effect on her, someone so usually nonchalant and detached.

Nevertheless, you aren’t here to gloat or gawk. Rosaria had spoken to you, and you knew better than to keep her waiting. You may be special to her in a way no one else is, enough to warrant these special “confessions”, but even you aren’t spared her impatience.

“Yes.” It leaves your lungs in a rush of air, your hands seeking out her narrow hips and clinging to them like a lifeline. Despite the belatedness of your response, Rosaria seems satisfied.

“Then get to it,” she muses, hovering just above your face.

You don’t need any further invitation, you urge her down and she lowers herself on you. Rosaria has never been the shy type so she has no shame in fully sitting, threatening to smother you in her cunt. Not that you mind, Archons no. You squeeze her waist to let her know you’re comfortable, and then get to work.

Your tongue glides over her soaked folds like a man starved, alternating between kitten licks at her clit and full on lapping at her like the dog Rosaria would say you are. You can’t help yourself, the taste of her is addictive. She moans somewhere above you, never that loud, but always sure to express her enjoyment. She moves her hips in little thrusts against your tongue, essentially riding it.

“Dirty little sinner,” Rosaria rasps, tangling her hand in your hair. Her metal claws scrape harshly at your scalp and make it sting, but you’re too focused on devouring her to care. “If only you did this as much as you ran your mouth.”

Your only reply is a pathetic whine that gets muffled by her pussy, your jaw aching as you open it wider and latch onto her, sucking. Rosaria’s hips jolt involuntarily and she lets out a drawn out groan, her thighs squeezing around your head as she presses herself down on your face, blindly chasing the sensation. Like this, you really can’t breathe, but why would you need to? All you need to do is pleasure her, make her feel good. It’s what you were made for, all you were good for.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Rosaria praises, now rutting against you. “Eat up like the whore you are. What would the other Sisters think? Knowing that one of their most devoted attendees is just a slut that loves to sin. No amount of hymns or prayers will ever cleanse you of that.”

You diligently lick up the slick that drips from her slit, delving your tongue inside in search of more. You could care less about her degrading words, it’s not as though she’s wrong. You aren’t devout or even particularly religious, though you’re certainly good at feigning interest. The only reason you even frequent the church is for her. To see her, to speak to her, anything.

It had started out innocently enough, just you dropping off some cecilias on behalf of a commission from Barbara, but she hadn’t been there. Instead you’d been greeted by a tall, brooding woman with pale, yellow eyes and an unwavering scowl. Rosaria had been intimidating to say the least, but something about her captivated you. There were no masks or lies with her, she was honest to the point of nearly being insensitive. She spoke her mind without shame or care, and she did what she pleased.

Ironically, it would seem that what Rosaria enjoyed doing the most was you.

She’s getting close now, you can tell. Her thighs clench and unclench around your head, her control over her muscles beginning to waver as she gives herself over to the pleasure. You can’t see her, but her head has fallen back and her eyes have closed, her lips parted as low sounds escape her. Your own arousal pulses with neglect as you hear Rosaria moan out your name.

As she begins to buck against you, you focus once more on shoving your tongue inside her sopping cunt, your nose occasionally bumping her swollen clit as she moves. Rosaria gasps out, breathless as she tightens her grip on your hair to the point of pain, but you don’t care. You eat out her pussy like it’ll be your last meal, delighted by the way you can feel it twitch against your lips, getting wetter as her orgasm approaches.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… Don’t you waste a drop,” Rosaria pants from above. Her free hand is fisting the sheets and if you aren’t mistaken, you think you can hear them tear as a result of her claws.

You lap at her until your jaw grows sore and then, finally, she cums. Watching Rosaria reach her peak will forever be a sight you’ll never tire of, you’re sure it’s the closest you’ll ever get to Celestia while alive. Her juices coat your face as she chants your name like it’s the only prayer worth reciting, and you can’t help but muse over the fact that it’s the most energy you’ve ever seen her exude for something like that.

You do your best to help Rosaria ride out her high, licking up her fluids dutifully and doing your damndest to prolong her pleasure. After what seems like forever, she lifts herself from your face, finally too sensitive to stand the stimulation. Her thighs are trembling with the effort of holding herself up, and you can see a faint flush on her face. Aside from that and the sheen of sweat on her skin, Rosaria appears unfairly composed otherwise.

“Did I do good?” You ask her, a coy smile on your lips as you peer up at her. Rosaria responds with a scoff, but you glimpse the smile she wears as she shifts off of you and leans down for a kiss instead. She’s unbothered by the taste of herself, exploring your mouth and sucking at your tongue with a reverence you’d never known her to have.

“I suppose it was satisfactory,” she hums upon pulling back, chuckling quietly.

“Only satisfactory?” You pout, but she’s quick to quell your impending brattiness. She taps a clawed finger against your cheek, and the dim lighting almost makes it seem like her eyes are glowing.

“Don’t start. We aren’t done yet,” Rosaria murmurs. Her gaze is downcast, fixated now on your forgotten arousal. You can’t help but shiver, and you know your reaction makes her smug, moving her way down until she’s kneeling between your legs.

“Let’s see what else that mouth of yours can do, Sinner.”

Pricefield in the Times of Plague

“Don’t come near me, Max!” - Chloe shouted, mustering the last bits of her strength to raise herself on her elbows above her bed of pain. Her face was red from fever and covered in blisters. Her hair was soaked in sweat. She went into a coughing fit and collapsed on the bed.

Max stood in the doorway of Chloe’s house. Just like every other house in the village, it was built using logs of wood, it had a sloping, thatched roof and the floor was covered in a layer of fresh straw. Inside, it consisted of one large chamber, with a fireplace at the centre. There was little furniture, besides two beds with mattresses filled with hay. The smaller bed was Chloe’s. The larger was Joyce’s and David’s. The larger bed was empty. Just like it had taken William five years ago, the plague now took Chloe’s mother and stepfather. Chloe cared for them when they fell ill. And when life left their eyes, she wrapped them in the best cloths she could find in her modest household and left them outside, to be taken by people collecting plague victims each morning. Chloe fell ill herself soon after that.

When Joyce and David became sick with the plague, Max’s parents forbade her from visiting Chloe. She obeyed. But when she heard the disease had gripped Chloe in its clutches, she couldn’t stay away any longer.

Now, standing at the threshold of Chloe’s house, she had to make a choice.

Chloe had already told her to leave. Now, Max heard her parents. They must’ve noticed her sneaking away in the wee hours of the morning. They stood outside the fence, ten paces from the door.

“Max, please! Don’t go in there! Come home with us!” – Ryan shouted. Vanessa sobbed.

Lying on her bed, Chloe quietly said: “Max, I know you love me. But you don’t have to do this. I won’t blame you. Nobody will. Stay away. Live”.

Everything tried to lure Max the wrong way. Her parents told her to go home. Chloe absolved her from abandoning her. Fear of the plague gripped her stomach and made her limbs heavy. Max made her choice. And she chose well.

She turned around to face Ryan and Vanessa: “Mom, dad, I love you. And I love Chloe, too. Dad, if mom was sick, would you abandon her? Mom, if dad was sick, would you abandon him? If I was sick, would either of you abandon me? I must be with her, for good or for ill”.

Vanessa cried loudly in Ryan’s embrace. Tears flowed down his bearded cheeks, too. But he nodded at Max, understanding her decision.

Max went in and closed the door behind her. She approached Chloe, sat on the bed next to her and gripped her hand. Chloe squeezed her hand too, weakly.

Max said: “I promised to always love you. To always have your back. To never abandon you. Now that you need me the most, I intend to keep that promise”.

“Max, think about your family …” – Chloe whispered faintly.

“Chloe, you are my family now. Isn’t it written in the Good Book that there comes a time for everyone when they leave their father and their mother and become one with someone they chose to love? Besides, if you’re so worried about my parents, look at it that way - I would bring shame upon my house by not keeping an oath I made”.

Chloe smiled, her spirit uplifted both by Max’s love and her sense of humour.

Max cared for her. She fed her, washed her, put cold compresses on her burning forehead. She talked with Chloe to take her mind off the death of her family and of her own death looming over her. And when Chloe was too weak to talk, Max sang her or told her stories. After three days, Chloe’s strength began to come back.

And then Max fell ill and the roles were reversed. Chloe returned all the care and love she had received. After a week, they both emerged from the house, weakened, but very much alive. They held hands. Ryan and Vanessa, who had been leaving them food and water on the doorstep, ran to hug them.

The tiny Romanesque church, the only stone building in the entire village, was full of the plague’s survivors. Almost everyone had lost someone they loved. The dwellers of Arcadia Bay were desperate for some positive development. So when the news spread that there was going to be a wedding, the villagers saw it as a good omen – that the time of plague had come to an end, and the time of healing and rebirth had commenced.

Max and Chloe stood before the altar. Max looked at her bride’s face. Max remarked that not even the pox marks covering her cheeks could hide Chloe’s beauty. Nothing ever could. True beauty is always within, where no scars can reach. Max knew her face was covered in similar marks. She saw her reflection each morning when she washed her face in a bowl of water. Not only she didn’t mind them, she was proud of her scars. She earned them in battle. Fighting for her love, which is the only thing truly worth fighting for.

Sister Kate from the local priory, who was officiating the wedding, asked each of them if they wished to be wedded in the eyes of the Lord. Of course they wished so! They exchanged wedding rings. They were simple steel circles, made by the local blacksmith. They were the best jewellery two peasant girls could afford. The rings were precious to Max and Chloe not because of the metal used to make them, but because of what they meant. Their love. How they defied cruel fate. How Max chose well.

The brides kissed. Ryan and Vanessa had tears in their eyes, but those were tears of joy and pride.

there’s this girl who made a huge mistake to me (she lure my boyfriend to cheat, *i saw proofs & all) *also i’m fully aware that cheating are two way street* anyway, this girl is a seminary student in our church, she’s a christian worker & then that happened. when i learned about that thing of course i was so angry to my boyfriend (and her) confronted him & broke up with him. i never talked to this girl even after she learned that i am fully aware to what she did. i’ll be lying if i’ll say i’m not expecting any apology from her, i mean that’s the least she can do. she apologized thru sending me a cup of coffee and very lame note saying “i’m sorry” & that’s it. she messaged me thru fb messenger also saying she wants to apology personally but during that time i wasn’t ready to face her and my schedules & priorities too are also different and also i’m not sure with what i wanted to tell her. i really don’t know. now, there this one event in our church that we finally came into one place again after the incident, in short, we saw each other again. she never looked at me. she never apologized. and there’s this anger inside me that i suddenly feel seeing her as if she didn’t mean her apology. i think i partially expected that she will apologize to me personally because what she did is really horible. but she acts as if it was nothing. our common friends asked her why she acts like that or atleast show a little remorse to what she did be, her answer makes me feel upset, she said “i’m already down, i know what i did, why would i let myself down even more? this is how i help myself, i have to act normal again.” people advised me to not talk to her again. they even said that based on what they see towards her, she just want to apology to me to lift her guilt but not because she’s really sorry. tbh, i wanted her to apologized. i feel sorry for myself for feeling this way. is it wrong that i am expecting an apology from her? is it wrong for me to feel angry towards her for acting as if she didn’t do anything horrible? is it wrong for me to hate her guts and the confidence she’s showing with her reason that God forgaver her and she already forgive herself so she feels free and all. i don’t know exactly what to feel.

Hello, I'm so sorry for your pain. This sounds like a complicated situation, but what entails cheating on someone? As a Christian couple (which I'm under the impression you are a Christian and your boyfriend was a Christian) what does being caught cheating mean? If your boyfriend and this woman exchanged flirty text messages perhaps that is what it means (because I can't imagine there was sexual immorality in the sense of physical relations before marriage if everyone is a Christian here) or perhaps they kissed? If so, your boyfriend bears the responsibility for being a man and being in a relationship and not being faithful. As for this woman, what she did was wrong also, but your boyfriend was your boyfriend and to you and the Lord is to whom is loyalty should be with, so I would not blame her per se, he needs to bear the responsibly for his sin and he has hopefully apologized to you and repented before the Lord for his lack of faithfulness. He chose to sin, you cannot blame the other party however tempting they may have been–God holds us responsible for our own sin and a woman needs to hold a man responsible for his own doing in an act of unfaithfulness and not blame the other woman so to speak, he made a choice. She was also a guilty party, but he chose to be unfaithful to you.

You did mention this woman messaged you via Facebook wanting to personally apologize but you didn't take her up on it. As a Christian if someone sins against you and apologizes, you do need to forgive them (Matthew 18:21-22, Ephesians 4:32, Colossians 3:13). Now it sounds like she is "moving on" in the sense of trying to heal by, well, moving on from it all and this upsets you. I understand this, but it sounds like she did contact you via FB and try to apologize by saying she wants to get together and personally apologize, so what else can she do?

To answer your other question, "is it wrong for me to hate her guts and the confidence she’s showing with her reason that God forgaver her and she already forgive herself so she feels free and all." Yes, it is wrong (please see verses below) and just a side note: forgiving ourselves is not a teaching found in Scripture, we don't forgive ourselves nor are we told biblically to do this; the Bible has a lot to say about forgiveness, but it does not specifically address the concept of forgiving oneself. God's forgiveness of us is enough, we do not need to also forgive ourselves–to say we also need to forgive ourselves is to say God's forgiveness is not enough for us and we need to add our forgiveness because His isn't powerful enough. It sounds like, from what I understand, that she asked God for forgiveness and she tried meeting up with you to ask you for forgiveness but you said no, so I think she is in a correct standing to try and heal and she has received God's forgiveness.

"Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." Colossians 3:13 "If someone says, 'I love God,' but hates a fellow believer, that person is a liar; for if we don’t love people we can see, how can we love God, whom we cannot see?" 1 John 4:20 "If anyone claims, 'I am living in the light,' but hates a fellow believer, that person is still living in darkness." 1 John 2:9

I pray your heart heals and you forgive your former boyfriend and this woman and seek the Lord for His forgiveness in areas where you may struggle to forgive and remember, I say this out of love, "Bitterness is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die." I am sorry for your pain. <3

Mourning

Characters: (Saints Row 1) Aaron Trouble, Troy Bradshaw, William Sharp

Warnings: None

Notes: Lin should've come back for sr4 fuck you

It'd only been a few weeks since Sharp had set the perfect trap. Leaving Lin tied up, and luring Aaron in to save her. That ended with a cracked open head, and a bullet in his stomach. And worst of all, a dead friend. One he'd barely had time to sit and grieve for, instead, he had to use her death as motivation to push through the searing agony in his gut and skull.

Sharp's car went down easy enough, getting slammed into by a truck twice its size was enough to render it unusable. That's when Aaron got out, finally letting the pressure go off of his stomach while he ripped Sharp out from his wreck of a vehicle. Only to strangle him, right there.

He had tried to fight back, punching and clawing desperately through his dazed state. It only pissed the Saint off more. His grip tightening, fingers leaving purple bruises in his neck while he could hear the life being torn away from his body. It was nothing short of pathetic.

Only when the last bit of Sharp's soul left his husk did Aaron let go. Without a target, without something else clogging his mind like hair in a drain, he realized just how desperately he himself needed help. Even though he didn't feel like he'd earned it, Aaron's primal instincts took over, forcing him to get to a hospital.

Now, there he sat. In the church, alone. Other Saints had glanced at him when he finally walked the streets again, he could hear the murmuring, only for their conversations to kick back up once he was out of sight. The few who'd gotten close enough to say anything were met with the teenagers empty stare.

No one bothered him inside, the only one who'd even spoken to him was Julius. Aaron barely listened, only hearing something about Gat wanting blood for what'd happened. As eager as Aaron was to get up and join him on a warpath, he was forced to stay. Both by Johnny himself, and the still healing gutshot wound. The doctors had been desperate to get him to stay, but it was either his aura that made them stop arguing, or the knife in his hand.

The silence the religious structure brought was both comforting, yet deeply unsettling. It sent shivers down his spine with each shake in the air from a breeze outside. There was always a Saint running their mouth, or someone cleaning their weapons, or just someone smoking and drinking. People were avoiding him like the plague, which was the smart move.

Troy Bradshaw wasn't the brightest though.

His steps into the church brought the teenager back into reality, each thud echoing gently throughout the building. By the time he rounded the corner of the entrance, Aaron's head was already turned back to watch him. Troy gave a small wave, his hand not passing above his chest while he did. "Hey, kid." He murmured.

Aaron didn't respond, and Troy understood why no one wanted to go near him. Someone had to though, lord only knew just what was going through his damn head. With that in mind, he chose his next words carefully, all the while moving closer and sitting next to the gangbanger at one of the remaining pews. "You, er, you doin' okay?"

Stupid question, he immediately figured. After a few moments of silence, he continued. "At least- I don't know, relatively? The others, they're worried about you, y'know." For a second, he thought about putting a hand on the others shoulder. Although he feared he'd lose his hand in the process faster than he could actually get a word in.

"...Lin wasn't your fault." To the point, blunt. There was no real way to shuffle around the subject with this, it seemed to be easier to just cut straight to the chase, rather than keep up some cliche small talk that wouldn't actually help at all. "Everyone knows you did what you could. Nothing you coulda changed-"

"I shouldn't have made it out." Aaron cut him off.

Troy felt his blood run cold at that statement. Two things to unpack: One, the obvious. The kid thought he should've died? Two, he could fucking talk? It seemed inappropriate to begin questioning him about the latter, so he bit his tongue as Aaron continued to speak.

"Lin didn't deserve to die. She should've made it out of there, it... It should've been me." Aaron almost felt out of breath at that, finally letting out what had been stuck in his head for weeks. Troy was the only person who'd gotten close enough, and seemingly cared enough, to make Aaron's lips loose. And once it began spilling out, he couldn't seem to plug it back up. So, he continued.

He slumped over a little while he spoke, his head turning to stare down. "I thought she was gonna be right behind me when I got that trunk open, but when I got up- she just wasn't there. She wasn't fucking there, man!" He could feel his emotions ramping up in intensity, forcing tears to prick the seams of his eyes. "I could've saved her. I was just worryin' about myself- she shouldn't have died, Troy. It should've been me, you get that? Not her. ME."

Troy had heard all too much about survivors guilt, and this was a textbook example. It was somewhat horrifying to hear from someone clearly so young. Everything about Aaron told Troy that he was just a kid. How he carried himself, his expressions alone, Jesus, he didn't look like an adult. But it seemed to be too late to simply get him out now, so all he could do was help him out. Make sure he didn't die.

"...I can't say shit that's gonna make you magically feel better." Troy sighed, "But, I can tell you this much. I don't think Lin would want you to kick your own ass for this. You made it out, and you killed that fuckin' guy. From where I'm standin', you did pretty alright for her." He added, finally reaching a hand out and placing it on Aaron's back. He froze up for a split second, expecting a shot to the face, or a broken arm- but nothing came.

He just shook. Trembling in place as his hands reached up, cradling his head while silent cries finally began to escape. Troy didn't want to risk anything by pushing too hard with comfort, so he sat still, his hand remaining on the Saints back. A way to tell him he wasn't alone, at the very least. Troy knew he wasn't much better at comforting people with his words, so this seemed to be the best way. And that's just how he kept it. If Aaron needed someone to sit there with him, let him know that it truly wasn't his fault? Then Troy would do it.

No one else around the damn place seemed to be capable of it.

ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ

“My church offers no absolutes He tells me, ‘Worship in the bedroom’ The only Heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you”

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Laito Sakamaki, Female Reader ɢᴇɴʀᴇ/ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ: nsfw. 18+ only. ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.6k ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ＤＡＲＫ ＣＯＮＴＥＮＴ ＡＨＥＡＤ！ (If you are not comfortable with this please do not read) NSFW Minors DNI, Rape/Noncon, dubcon, bloodplay, sacrilege, degradation, power difference, dacryphilia, biting, begging, sub!reader, dom!Laito ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: This is my first smut ever so hopefully it isn't too low quality :) I'm really going to hell after writing this one lol.

The Church. A place of joy, forgiveness, and love. A place you held dear. A place where you came to worship. After all, when your heart was heavy and your burdens spilled over, you could always pray. Pray to someone who would listen, who would understand, and who would always forgive your innocent sins in the end. However your reason for your visit was less than a joyous occasion. You needed to ask for forgiveness, for reconciliation, for the darkness which tore at your fragile heart. That man. If you could even call him such a thing has been tormenting you endlessly. Holding such a suffocating grip on your mind and spirit. The things he says, the things he does are vile, evil, yet you always end up craving more. His words are laced with sweet honey, charming and tempting, but you know it's only to lure you in. Regardless, you cannot get them out of your head. Which is why you kneel before the altar. Asking your god for forgiveness.  “God please. I don’t know what to do. Please. Please protect me.” A laugh echoed behind you, bouncing from the empty stone walls of the church. You turned your head sharply towards the entrance of the church, startled by the sudden intrusion.  “Well, it seems little bitch came here to pray! How cute,” Laito mused. His form rose from the mass of wooden pews lit only by the dim moonlight filtering in through stained glass windows. He proceeded forward, steps muffled by the carpet leading towards the altar.“You do know however there is already someone watching over you.” He pointed upwards. A bat hanging languidly from the archway in the ceiling gazed curiously at your still kneeling form. Laito laughed once more, “Silly little bitch, thinking she can run away. I have my familiars to keep an eye on you at all times. They promised to tell me your every move.” “S-since when?” You rose cautiously facing the man.  “Oh dear, your cute little face is all red. Did my familiars catch you doing something you didn’t wish to be seen?” “Don’t say such things!” You exclaimed. “Oh, there's no need to be ashamed! After all, I know what a naughty little girl my Bitch-chan is,” He laughed. “I- I just came here to pray! Is there something so wrong with that?” You spat out. “Oh my little Bitch-chan is feisty today,” Laito chuckled before dropping his tone, “I do know why you’re truly here though.” “And why is that?” You asked. “To repent. For all of those dirty thoughts you’ve been having,” Laito approached until he was standing directly in front of you. He leaned down, breath tickling your ear and sending bolts of electricity shooting down your spine. “I know how much you just love when I tease you. You think it's so wrong to give into your desires. There's nothing to be ashamed about Bitch-chan. After all, I want to uncover all of those secret little places you keep hidden from me.” His arm snaked around your waist pulling you taught against him. Your arms pushed against his lean yet firm chest.  “L-Laito stop! I have no idea what you’re talking about now, please just let go!” You said, your confidence quickly wearing thin.  “Playing dumb are we? I have no business with you. I want to hear from that lustful, greedy little girl you keep hidden inside,” He spoke, words dripping with desire. He pushed you down onto the altar with ease, pinning your hands above your head with just one hand. You kicked and struggled, trying desperately to wiggle free. His crushing grip on your wrists pinned above your head grew stronger, threatening to break your delicate bones. “Now, now Bitch-chan. Struggling is only going to make it harder for you. Why don’t you just give in, hmmm?” He asked, sounding like less than a plea but more of a demand.  “Laito please! Why are you doing this to me!” Your words came out almost as a broken sob. Your resolve crumbling under his suffocating strength.  “Why am I doing this? How cute. I’m doing this because I want to, because I simply can’t resist this cute little girl below me.” He laughed still leaning over your struggling form beneath him. “Now, let me let you in on a little secret. But you have to stay still for me, Got that?” he asked.You stopped your squirming and looked him in the eyes. “Do you truly believe in God?”  “Y-yes, Yes I do. But why is that even important?” you asked, trying desperately to hide the fear welling up within you.  “Oh no Bitch-chan I believe I'm asking the questions here.” Laito spoke, leaning in closer, breath fanning against your neck, “Do you truly think he is going to save you?” “Yes! No matter what you say I believe in him,” you spoke back, slight defiance still shining in your eyes. “Awww how cute. You truly think that God would ever want to forgive you? A lost little lamb just begging to be defiled by me. He's just an illusion created by those who think they have a higher purpose than they truly do.” He paused, smiling down at you. However his smile held no warmth, just a sick, sadistic smirk laden with desire. “Your only purpose here, little bitch, is to give me your blood. You’ll see that the faster you choose to accept that, the gentler I will be.” “I will never submit to you,” you spat again venom in your tone. “Ohh what a naughty little girl,” he smirked, “I’m going to have such fun with you tonight.” He let go of your wrists. But in your second of freedom, a crushing weight was applied to your hip. One hand held your hip firmly in place on the altar while his other slowly lifted your leg. He leaned over, situated between your shivering thighs. “Now for that secret I promised, after all I never lie to my Bitch-chan,” he chuckled, “You were given to us. As a sacrifice. A meaningless little bride, given just to appease us. It's cute how you think so highly of yourself Bitch-chan.”  “That's not true! I'm not just a sacrifice to you!” You exclaimed. “Oh but you are. And on top of that would you like to know who gave you to us? Hmmm?” You stayed silent. “This very church you hold such faith in,” Laito continued. “The-they would never,” You protested.  “They did, Bitch-chan. Raised your whole life just to think you were born for something so great. When all you really are is a glorified little sacrifice, waiting to die like the rest of them,” he stated these last words matter of factly. Seemingly content with his words. Hot tears threatened to slip from your eyes.  “It's not true! It's not.” You gasped, unable to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. “Now now Bitch-chan. It's okay. I know the truth hurts. Allow me to help you,” He smiled, bringing his mouth closer to your inner thigh. “Such a sweet scent. Mmm I just can't wait to see if you taste as good as you smell Bitch-chan.” Unable to process his words you lay still, tears pooling from the corner of your eyes. Small hiccups echoed over the empty expanse of the room. Without warning he bit down. Fangs sinking into the plush softness of your thigh. You winced, a small squeal bubbling from your throat. The pain was sharp, almost burning. He moaned against your thigh, sucking the dark crimson liquid from beneath your skin. He pulled away. Rivulets of your own blood dripping down his chin. You couldn't bear to look at the sight any longer.  You turned your head to the side.  “Oh my, poor little thing. Did that hurt?” He asked with fake concern. You nodded, face wet with tears.  “Then why don’t I just do that again.” He licked over his previous puncture wound, moving his open mouth slightly over before biting down again. Even harder this time. A small shriek spilled out. You tried kicking your leg against the burning pain but he kept it firmly hooked over his shoulder. You could hear the soft gulps of Laito drinking your blood. That horrible noise then persisted even after the initial sting subsided. He pulled away once more, wiping the blood from his chin. He raised himself up, straddling you beneath him. “Oh don’t cry now Bitch-chan. That couldn’t have hurt that badly. We are just getting started now.” He lowered his head to lick the salty tears from your cheeks. “Look at you, red faced and teary eyed and all I did was have a little taste of that sweet blood you keep to yourself. I could just bathe you in it, but no I’m being quite merciful to my little bitch right now. The least you could do is tell me where you want it next.” You turned your face to stare him in the eyes. No hint of remorse remained, just pure greed and self satisfaction swam behind his emerald green eyes.  “I- I don’t want it anywhere! Stop!” you tried kicking again but he had your body caged beneath his.  “Hmmm I suppose I’ll start from the top and work my way down then”  His slender fingers undid your uniform bow and slowly unbuttoned your shirt. You tried to offer resistance but his strength was simply too much. You soon found yourself completely exposed to his predatory gaze besides your undergarments which still protected what little modesty you had left.  “Awwww Bitch-chan you wore pink just for me? I’m so flattered. I knew you’ve been wanting this all along” He snickered pausing his movements.  “Laito! Please stop!” You tried squirming again but it was simply no use.  He raised your shaking form slightly and looped his arm around your back. Laito’s cold, slender fingers unclasped your bra. Your hands flew up to stop the delicate straps from falling past your shoulders.  “Ah ah ah,” He taunted, “We won't be needing this anymore.” In a single movement he ripped your bra away from your body, your desperate grip on it was of no comparison as he flung it into the dark corners of the room. Out of sight. You whimpered, still trying to cover your breasts from his view. Laito took your wrists back into his hand and pinned your back flush against the altar once more. “While I very much appreciate you dressing up all cute for me Bitch-chan, I much prefer this view.” He leaned in closer, trailing soft kisses down your collarbone to your exposed breasts. You whimpered from the sensitivity of his hot mouth against your hardened nipples. “Already this sensitive and I’ve hardly touched you… Let’s try going a little lower hmm” Laito hummed, releasing your wrists while kissing lower, down your stomach, stopping right above the waistband of your panties.  “Lets see how wet my little bitch is,” He laughed sliding a long digit across your clothed sex purposely nudging your sensitive clit. You let out a small whine and tried to pull yourself away. “My baby is wet for me. What a little slut.” He chuckled darkly, “Why don’t I have a taste of my sweet girl.” Laito leaned his face closer to your pussy, his breath causing shivers to run down your spine. He placed a kiss over your panties letting out an exaggerated moan. It reverberated through your core causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together tightly around his head. Laito’s hands came to your thighs, pulling them apart. “It's a little too late to be ashamed now baby,” he cooed with a purr in his voice.  With a rip your panties too were cast into the suffocating darkness that surrounded the altar. Your unclothed sex lay bare to him. The dark, damp air felt cool. You shivered, unable to close your thighs again. You felt so vulnerable and exposed. His hungry gaze devoid of mercy, only pure desire remained. Without words he licked a stripe up your sensitive folds, causing a high pitched whine to spill out. “Oh you just taste so sweet little bitch. You truly love to tempt me, don't you?” He spoke. He flattened his tongue against your clit. You desperately thrashed trying to free yourself from the onslaught of pleasure. His hold on your legs only tightened pulling you even closer to his face. Small moans from his mouth reverberated, adding more unbearable pleasure.  “Please, please stop,” you sobbed, your hands curling into fists on the cold, hard altar.  You weren’t sure how much more you could take.  “Laito please!” you begged for him to release you. Your sobbing pleas fell upon deaf ears. He continued, lapping against your core at a steady rhythm. Choked sobs echoed from your throat and dissipated against the high arched ceilings of the church. His sharp nails dug into your thighs as he held you against his cruel tongue. You could feel blood being drawn from his harsh grip. The pressure between your legs continued to build as you searched for something, anything to hold onto. You gripped hard on the sides of the stone altar, your knuckles turning white as your release came. You cried out in what you couldn’t tell was pleasure or fear. Finally, Laito removed himself from between your legs, still holding your thighs apart. You glanced upwards through teary eyes. Your juices glistened against his pale skin. You were disgusted, horrified, shame welling up within you. He climbed upwards, caging your fragile form under his own once more.  “Come, taste yourself little bitch. You taste so sweet, it's intoxicating.” His words dripped like sweet honey as he forced your mouth open and slid his hot tongue in. You were quite literally being suffocated. He tasted musky, your arousal that coated his tongue now on yours. His kiss drowned you, you pushed against him with your hands trying to breathe, but the kiss only deepened. Laito broke the kiss with a moan, something hard ground against your upper thigh and you wiggled your hips trying to get away. “You want this don’t you? Naughty little thing,” he laughed, “Here's the thing with girls like you. You pretend to be so innocent, so naive, but deep down you're just a dirty little whore. Searching to be brought out.” “That’s- that’s not true, please stop-p,” You wailed, hot, salty tears flowing down your reddened cheeks.  “Shhh… It’s much too late to get away now little bitch,” He let out a playful laugh.  You heard the sound of a zipper and the moving of material. You were a sobbing mess now pushing harshly against him. He paid no heed to your violent struggles as you felt something hard pressing against your opening. He forced your wrists down against the cold altar, wrapped in his crushing hold again.  “L-Laito… I don’t- I don’t want-” You began. “Nfu~ How adorable little bitch, now fall into the depths of hell with me.” He spoke, his final words enunciated by a sharp thrust. You felt a burning stretch as your tight hole struggled to accommodate his girth. He let out a soft moan above you, his pupils blown wide with pure lust. “My Little Bitch is so tight for me, I simply can’t hold back any longer,” Laito gasped, senses overcome by hunger.  His cock receded from your depths, covered in your shameful slick only to bully its way back into you. Over and over, hitting a spot deep inside. Causing your legs to tighten around his hips which pistoned into you at a steady, brutal pace.  “Does that feel good baby? Having me ravage this pretty little cunt?” He asked, never slowing his agonizing pace. All you could do was whine, struggling to think of anything but the intense pleasure filling your senses.  “See? You were whining and begging for me to stop, but I think my little girl is enjoying this, isn't she?” he grunted staring into your teary eyes. You turned your face away from his sharp gaze, trying to hide your flustered expression. One of his hands left your wrist, grabbing your jaw forcefully. Your head was turned so that you could only stare into his eyes now, the grip on your jaw unwavering. “I want to see those cute expressions, little bitch, don’t hide them from me. I want you to see exactly who’s making you feel this good,” He spoke, shamelessly letting his moans echo through the large space surrounding your forms.  You could feel a knot begin to tighten inside of you, its feeling becoming unbearable as it built its way up. Your legs began to quiver as your quiet whines grew louder into broken sobbing moans. In one last attempt you struggled to push your palms against his chest to slow his movements but to no avail. He seemed unbothered by your struggles, only chuckling in response to your feeble escape attempt. “You're close, I can feel it Bitch-chan, but you don’t get to cum. Not just yet,” He panted, still hungrily eyeing your body beneath his own, “You haven’t earned it yet for resisting me this much. If you had learned to be honest with yourself, I’d be much more caring. So now you’re going to beg.”  You sniffled, holding back more tears. There’s no way you could do this. Shame rose like bile in your throat at the thought. However you simply could not endure the pleasure any longer. And so your delicate, glass mask of resolve cracked.  And you cried out, “Please Laito, please let me cum! I’m sorry- Im sorry!” He stared down in pleasure and amusement, “What a lewd little bitch, since you asked so nicely I suppose you can.” His thrusts grew harder as he slammed his cock violently into your fluttering walls. “Come for me, I know you can you dirty little slut,” He moaned wantonly. Suddenly the knot snapped, that invisible buildup inevitably peaked and you convulsed crying out in pure ecstasy. Your walls clamped down around his cock which only spurred his movements further, he fucked you through your orgasm as you clawed desperately at his back. You quickly became overstimulated, whines now louder, pleading for him to stop. But he continued regardless until you felt his thrusts become sloppy and unsynchronized. His pants and moans became more frequent as he gasped out, “I love you Little Bitch.” His head lowered until his lips pressed themselves against your exposed neck. He bit down hard, fangs penetrating through your skin and his lustful moans muffled against your throat. Laito’s hips stuttered. The pain of his sharp fangs mixed with his now erratic thrusts caused you to clench down once more, the release causing your walls to milk his cock as his seed spilled inside of you. You both stayed like this for some time. His fangs withdrew from your neck. Two thin streams of rich, dark blood trickled down entwining with one another. You still lay staring straight up, past Laito and to the intricate carvings on the ceiling. However, he didn’t seem nearly finished with you yet. He withdrew his cock from you only to slam it back into your clenching walls. He had hardened once more. “Oh Little Bitch, we aren’t nearly done yet. The moon is still out and I do feel quite thirsty again. After all, it is a full moon and we dwellers of the night tend to require a bit more to satisfy our urges,” A laugh resounded from his chest, louder than what you had heard before, “So stay still and don’t move too much, okay? We still have all night to enjoy ourselves~” … The night was as cruelly long. The pleasure, the pain, the fear, and the shame had turned into numbness. You could hardly feel his brutal thrusts nor the sharp sting of fangs entering your supple flesh over and over again. You could blame the detached empty feeling on blood loss or anemia maybe, but those internal excuses would only cover the truth. You were nothing more than a sacrifice laying naked and broken on the altar surface. By the time the morning light had come and dawn staked its claim over the land, you were completely and utterly alone. Golden rays of sunlight filtered its way through the cracked and dusty stained glass windows. Once holding beautiful depictions of angels rejoicing now looked like nothing but lies and empty promises. Just like the love he declared over and over again as he claimed your body. The sunlight which tangled its rays over your naked, marked flesh held no warmth. Your place of forgiveness tainted black by a carnal sin. You didn’t ask to fall from grace, you had begged for it. Begged a man, no, begged a devil to continue to ravage your innocence until nothing remained. Shame clouded your heart which still weighed heavy with your sin. Could God ever forgive you now?

I saw someone else write hcs for this scenario but I lowkey need more?? Michael as a *very* quiet priest who may or may not be lusting over fem reader, who also feels the same way about him?

This request has been making me go absolutely feral for the past few hours. Thank you! Writing this as a story, because holy shit it needs to be. I grew very tired towards the end, so I apologize if it seems rushed.

Priest

No trigger warnings continue at your own risk

Includes sexual content

Michael blessed people day by day silently. The people of the church trusted him as a man of God, believing he could relieve them of their sins by simply letting him hold their hands in his. “Praying,” they thought, no, Michael did quite the opposite. When he held their hands he would wish the most disgusting and vile things upon them.

The people of the church sacrificed themselves to Michael, thinking it was what God wanted. Michael fed on their beliefs, killing them to fill the empty void in his heart. He got away with each and every one of them. After all, it was for God wasn’t it? He was doing a deed.

You were a newcomer to the church, having just moved into Haddonfield. You wore a small black dress, with tall platform heels. A bold move for a church. Michael saw you instantly, his eyes locking onto your body. He was intrigued. Small, pretty, daring… Eyes… On him? He felt your eyes burn into him, scorching his skin, but he couldn’t help but dig his eyes into you and withstand your glare.

You maintained eye contact with Michael for a explicit amount of time before he turned and walked off. A sigh escaped your lips as they pursed together. You clutched your bag, finding a seat. You couldn’t keep your mind off of him. That look… He was mesmerizing. It was something about him that set him aside from everyone else in this church, but you didn’t know what. His gorgeous looks? No. That wasn’t it. Not even close.

You went an entire sermon without seeing Michael. He wasn’t even by the door when you left. You had hoped to see him next Sunday. Maybe you could ask to confess to him? Just to get his attention again. You yearned to be seen by him. And so did he.

Michael liked to admire from afar. He wasn’t one to get up close and personal unless he needed to. Getting too close to you now would be a mistake. He had to lure you in slowly… He was already obsessed with you. You were the only thing racing in his mind the rest of the day. He’s never seen a woman walk into a church dressed like you were. He knew you were different. He needed you. You were gonna be his one way or the other.

The next Sunday came along, and you strolled inside wearing a long flowing dress, accented with a corset around your waist, complimenting your breasts. Michael stood in the same spot as last, eyes boring into you. You scanned the room, eyes landing on him. You quickly looked away, not realizing that he had been staring at you this entire time. You found your seat, swallowing the frog in your throat.

Michael couldn’t stop staring. He admired you. So striking. So brave. Walking in here wearing such clothing. Your breasts were on display, how naughty of you. He turned to walk off again, leaving the auditorium to allow his piers to speak amongst the people.

A small hand latched onto his arm, pulling him back. “Excuse me, Father.” A soft voice echoed through the hallway. Michael turned his head, it was you. “I would like to confess.” You let go of his arm, dropping your hand to hold your other. Michael was silent, placing his hand on your back, guiding you to the confessional.

You sat down inside. It was dark, the only light was seeping in through the holes that Michael sat behind. “Confess.” His voice was deep, and crisp. You sat quiet for several moments, trying to contain yourself. You let out a soft sigh, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned… It has been several months since my last confession… I can’t help but have awful… disgusting thoughts about this man I barely know.” You began, “There’s something about him that sets him off from the others, but I… I don’t know what. There’s something… Dark within him. Something I yearn for.”

Michael felt a fire build inside him, an unstoppable rage. He wanted you, no one else could have you but him. Yet you already had eyes for someone else? This couldn’t happen. “I believe you know him very well.” You stated. “I do?” Michael asked. “Yes, he comes here.” You reply, your face a deep red, thanking God that he couldn’t see you like this. “I’ve been having lewd thoughts about him ever since I saw him last Sunday…” You struggle to confess. Michael felt as if he was being drove insane. Did you know about his feelings for you? Was this punishment?

Michael quickly had you give your act of contrition, and sent you off. He had to figure out who this man was that you were thinking about. Even though you apologized for having such thoughts, he knew they wouldn’t stop. We’re human, it’s what we do. He felt his eye twitch as he searched the auditorium for men you could possibly find attractive. Nothing but old men and their grandchildren. Did you have a thing for old men..?

No, you couldn’t have. The man you desired must’ve left. He would have to wait until next Sunday to claim his victim.

It was Sunday. There was no young man. Perhaps you were into old men. He found that rather disgusting. Michael wondered into his office, needing to calm himself down. He plopped down into his chair, glaring at the wall. If he wasn’t an introvert maybe he would’ve approached you that first Sunday, and got your attention then. But he missed his chance, it was over. He had lost you to another man.

There was a quiet knock on his door. His head perked up, “come in.” He ordered. He was surprised to see you enter. Wearing a skin tight dress that hugged you in all the right places. God, he wanted you so badly. His eyes trailed from your hips to your face, smiling up at you. He intertwined his fingers, “what can I do for you?” he asked, forcing himself slightly. You closed the door behind you, suspiciously locking it. He wasn’t going to ask.

He watched your hips sway as you walked towards him, behind his desk. You had to of known you’re not allowed back here… Right..? His question was quickly answered when you cupped his face. “Father, I must confess.” You purr, “I can’t stop thinking about you… Pinning me against this desk and taking me.” Michael had froze. How could he be so idiotic. It was him. He was the only young man in the church. “I see how you look at me, Father. I know you want me just as much as I have been wanting you…” Oh he did.

Michael grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours. You let out a surprised hum, melting into him. You kneeled down, slipping off your heels to toss them to the side. You lifted your leg over him to sit on his lap, pushing your hips into his. His large hands grabbed your waist, lifting you up onto his desk. His hands slipped up your dress, squeezing and kneading your hips.

Michael felt himself grow harder by the second. He stood up, looming over you. He pecked your lips once more as he freed himself of his belt, unbuttoning his pants as fast as possible. You giggled, “eager are we, Father?” Michael’s hand wrapped around your throat, slamming your back down onto the desk. You gasp, eyes wide in shock. A small smile grew on your lips.

Michael let himself out from his pants, slapping against your thigh. He grabbed one of your knees, spreading your legs. His hand trailed down to your sobbing cunt, thumb pressing against your clothed lips. You whined, hips moving against his hand. He pulled your panties down your thighs, and off of your legs. A fresh breeze hit your exposed entrance.

Michael stared down at you, admiring how you submitted to him in such a way. Michael spit down onto your pussy, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds, slowly pushing himself inside of you. A long sigh left you, the empty feeling you once had taking its leave. Michael took a hold of your hips, progressively growing faster in pace. You let out a soft moan, your eyes closing. Michael slapped his hand over your mouth, eyes scolding you.

You licked his hand, causing him to jerk away. You grabbed his hand before it got too far away, pulling it back to your mouth. You took his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it. Michael found this odd, but was strangely turned on by the act. He pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, pumping it in and out. You gazed up at him with big eyes, begging for more.

Michael began to slam himself into you, the sounds echoing throughout the room. You cried out, biting down on his thumb. You rolled your hips against his, moaning softly. He grunted, holding your hips still with his other hand. He leaned down, replacing his thumb with his lips, pushing his tongue inside of your mouth to explore. His hand trailed down to your pussy, fingers rubbing along your clit. You whined, hips bucking up into his hands.

Michael pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. He panted as he pounded into you, feeling himself come close to an end. “Father… Please…” You beg. Michael grew annoyed, unsure of what more he could possibly do. He flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing himself balls deep inside of you. You let out a breathy gasp, hands wrapping around the edges of the desk. Michael got faster with each thrust, thighs slapping against you.

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm build inside of you. You whimpered, trying to contain yourself. It crashed over you, waves of pleasure wrecking your body. Michael slammed into you one last time, his cum filling up inside of you.

“Oh, Father… I believe I have sinned again.”

“Forgiven.”

Never Deal With Demons ⎯  Bonnie Gold One-Shot

Pairings: Demon!Evil!Bonnie Gold x Reader Fandom: Peaky Blinders MASTERLIST Word Count: ~ 2,600 Warnings: Cursing, violence, manipulation, poor take on demons and the like, mentions of blood, pain, abuse/etc, typical Peaky bullshit too SUMMARY: You only ever wanted happiness but now you’re trapped for life. This is my submission for @retromafia​‘s Supernatural Celebration!!

25. “You came to me, begging me for a contract!”

26. “You mean those weak, mortal friends? Why would you want to be with them when you can be with me?”

37. “Humans age and rot so easily, but don’t worry. With me, you’ll be perfect forever.”

3. “Do you like my horns?”

A/N The piece is merely inspired by the prompts above, some may be used. Others not. The underlined prompts are used word for word :)

You knew the rules and yet, you couldn’t help but bend them… okay that’s being nice, you fucking shattered them.

“If you do this you and I will be bonded for life.” His voice had been smooth, eyes gleaming red under the lamp as he smirked knowingly.

How could you decline his offer, eternal life… with him. It sounded too good to be true and yet… you felt your heart jump with excitement at the thought. He was stupidly beautiful, eyes dark and a bit deranged, hair curled at his ears, and god… his smile felt like a knife to the back.

Everyone—everyone knew not to go to him. He was crazy, insane, mental, mad, blah blah blah that didn’t matter anymore. How could he be seen as those things when in reality, he was so so sweet.

When you looked at him there was no evil, no ill intent—just him. Even if he had (apparently) done some horrifying shit, there was some sick part of you that liked that. You liked all of him. Despite his flaws, despite the agreement, you liked him.

That is until he started being a controlling asshole.

—

You went to him that first time in a moment of weakness, you were tired and beat down by life, needing relief. Demons were never someone a person just went to. The church preached that if you were ill enough to seek out demons then you were just as evil.

That part didn’t really bother you. But whenever you’d see the signs casting all non-humans as the enemy, it irked you. It was a new kind of prejudice and they couldn’t even see that. You weren’t raised by bad people, you could care less if someone were a vampire or werewolf, you’d met plenty of those growing up.

But demons on the other hand were much rarer. Not many stayed on Earth anymore, it was more dangerous than their home down under. There had always been the same one in your town, he’d been there for hundreds of years apparently.

Everyone knew the stories of how he’d lure in young people and eat them alive. That seemed like a lie but you were still wary. Despite not having ever met him, you’d seen him around. Just glimpses of pale skin and dark eyes.

He didn’t spend much time out of his estate (how it was acquired was unknown to you). It was a large looming house at the edge of town surrounded by miles of woods. Just the driveway alone was almost two miles.

That gave you a lot of time to think on the way there. You were encouraged not to go to him by your friends. “Go see the Jesus family instead, vampires are safer.” One said, another berated you altogether. Telling you how dumb the idea was in the first place.

“You’ve heard the stories of lost lives to that… fucking thing.”

Part of you wanted to listen but curiosity didn’t kill the cat on its own.

—

You remember the night you walked inside that old house, felt the power radiating off the walls. Your fingers skimmed along the wall as you stepped further inside. The furnishings were extravagant. There was no sound save for the occasional creak in the floor.

Something about the air felt so comfortable. You weren’t alone for long, he appeared in a shadow, teeth gleaming.

“Hello, you.” He’d been the first one to speak, you stared in awe.

You knew his name, you thought it was beautiful… fitting enough for a beautiful man.

When he finally showed himself your heart jumped out of your chest. How could evil personified be so… painfully gorgeous. He wasn’t even extraordinary to look at, but he was so pretty it hurt. Sprouting from beneath the darkness of his curled hair were short black horns. They gleaned in the candlelight as he stepped out from the shadow.

“I knew you’d come one day, welcome.” Even the way he moved enchanted you. “Make yourself at home, I’m sure you’ve come for a reason.” He crossed the room and sat on the couch that was placed in front of an unlit fireplace.

You were frozen in place, a statue. “Are you cold?” He leaned on the arm, looking at you over the back of the couch as he raised his hand. Your eyes widened as flames appeared above the logs. “Do you like my horns?” He wrapped a finger around one like it was a piece of hair.

The question caught you off guard, did you like them? You wondered the same yourself. Finding your voice proved to be more of an issue than answering. “Uh– yea, I… I suppose? I didn’t know you had horns.”

There it was, you saw how his eyes lit up.

“Come sit,” Your body moved before you comprehended the offer. “Why are you here?” The eye contact was too much, you had to look away. How could someone’s eyes be red and brown? It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m not too sure why.”

He laughed, “Yes you are,” He was right.

You knew exactly why you came to him. You were so incredibly bored with your life, it was the same cycle each day, there wasn’t an ounce of change. It was killing you.

That made your face grow hot, how he knew didn’t matter. It was the admission that embarrassed you more. “Yea.” You stared at the fire, “Is it true you kill people?”

He nodded, “I’ve killed lots of things.”

“Why?”

“It’s my nature and nature. Cycle of life and the like.” He was so casual, it unnerved you but it was hard to look away. “Or sometimes just because I could.” He shrugged.

“What happens if I say your name?” You wondered aloud, having heard plenty of stories about how a name holds power over demons. Something about some stupid balance.

A wicked smile grew on his face, “Oh, so you know about that, do you?” You nodded, “Sad that it’s just a rumor then.”

“What?” He nodded, “Damn, that seemed too good to be true I guess.” That made you painfully curious to say his name, you didn’t even know if it was his real name anyway. “So if I were to say it right now, nothing would happen?” You asked, a nod in response.

Your eyes met his as you muttered two words, “Bonnie Gold.”

That grin returned as he stared right back. “Sounds nice when you say it like that,” Bonnie looked away, “That’s not my real name, you know?”

“Really? What do you have, like, a demon name?” Your question wasn’t rhetorical, it was just a joke but Bonnie answered with a nod. “Huh.”

—

“Did you know that demons were sent to Earth in an experiment?” Bonnie asked, you shook your head. “To see how we’d get along with humans, I was one of the first sent down– well up.” He chuckled at the thought.

“What was that like?”

Bonnie’s eyes darkened, “Lonely.”

You knew you shouldn’t feel sympathy for him but it was hard not to. “I can’t imagine.” You spoke quietly, he was so close, so near it was overwhelming.

“Yes you can, I can see it in your eyes.” Bonnie put a hand on your cheek, it was cold but you didn’t mind.

How he’d seen through your facade of contentment was beyond you. What frightened you more was how soft his voice sounded when he said it.

“You could no longer be lonely with me. We could be lonely together, my love.”

Those words were so beautifully wrapped, covering the lies you’d soon uncover. Maybe it was naive to believe a demon of all things but at the time, it didn’t matter. He had consumed your hopelessness and turned it into happiness.

“With me, you’ll be perfect forever.” He ran a stray finger down your face, watching you closely as he did so. “Why grow old when you can always be young?”

“I’m not sure forever would be enough,” It sounded cheesy in your head and so much worse out loud. 

But Bonnie seemed to like that sentiment. “Just ask and it’s done, love.”

Your eyebrows knitted together, “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

And so… you asked. You said the words he had been drawing out of you for weeks. You’d spent so much time with him in secret for fear of what your friends and family would say. Bonnie was much different around you, he was sweet and attentive. He would indulge your stupid questions and answer with real sincerity.

It was nice to be listened to.

Though sometimes… he’d sort of, slip up. You’d see flashes of the demon from the rumors. It didn’t really surprise you, just made you wary. 

“Can you make me everlasting?”

The question was simple enough, just five words and your fate was bonded with his. Unbeknownst to you, he had played you like a fiddle. All of the sweet smiles and laughter… it was fake. It was all a lie.

You saw his true colors that night you begged him to change you. Into what, you weren’t too sure, but it didn’t matter if it meant you’d be together forever. He explained it in half truths, always turning to distract you from asking too many questions.

And god it felt so stupid to have fallen for his obvious manipulation.

—

It wasn’t like you changed your mind right after he did it. No, you didn’t realize how he was slowly stifling you until years later. You too, became a part of the rumors about him. “He and his pet”, they’d say. You didn’t care about what they said until you realized how true that was.

You weren’t his equal, you were in the most technical sense; him. Bonnie made you from his own essence in turn making you into a half-demon. Your appearance remained the same save for that same red glint in your eyes and horns that mirrored Bonnie’s.

Bonnie was still sweet–for the most part. He had a temper and didn’t know how to manage his emotions, living with him soon became exhausting. Even with all of the perks of it, you began to notice how you longed for regular life again.

You missed your friends, Bonnie’s weren’t the best people. They all had what he did, a human turned demon companion… according to them, Bonnie was the last to “obtain” a human friend. That part irked you. But you saw how happy the others seemed, they genuinely loved their partner.

At one point, you loved him too but… it became too much. The changes inside your body made your emotions amplified and dizzying. It took ages to get used to it.

—

A decade later, you were as young as you were when you met Bonnie but your friends were not. You weren’t allowed to see them. You doubted they’d even want to see you after what you did. But you couldn’t help but watch over them from the shadows, some got married and had children, others moved out of the country. You found yourself becoming jealous of their mundane lives.

All they had to worry about was stupid inconsequential things like taxes or if they bought enough fruit to last them a week. If only someone had warned you. The irony of it all was that now that you had your taste of the supernatural, you wanted nothing more than to give it all back.

Bonnie told you it was irreversible, undoable, impossible to revert you back to being human without the time your body resisted crushing you. But at that point, you were too tired of it to not beg for him to do something.

—

“Am I not enough for you? I surely was when you begged me to turn you into one of us.” He spoke with venom, eyebrows pushed together in anger.

“I didn’t beg you to turn me! You bullied me into it! I just wanted to get to know you,”

Bonnie grabbed your wrists and pulled you close, “I did nothing of the sort, I just pushed you into the right direction.”

“Same difference, Bonnie.”

He scowled, “You came to me, begging me for a contract!” He suddenly pushed you away.

Your eyes grew wide, “No I didn’t! Stop lying! I am so sick of your lies!”

“What do you expect from a demon, child?” Bonnie sneered. He didn’t look like himself anymore, his face contorting at such a speed you could barely comprehend it.

“I know there’s a way to undo it, just please. Let me go, you can find another person who you will treat better I’m sure of it. I’m not right for you.”

Consoling him didn’t help anymore than screaming. If anything, it made him so much more angry.

His expression changed suddenly, “Please don’t leave me, I have no one. You know this.”

“You have hundreds if not thousands of friends.”

You saw a sliver of the sweet persona he put on when you met. His eyes softened and he looked heartbroken that you’d even ask to get away.

“You are all I have.” Bonnie’s eyes stayed on yours, it was impossible to look away, “Why do you think I jumped on the opportunity to make you like me? You’re perfect in every way, perfect for me.” His gaze was so heavy, you felt like you were being compressed into a small room.

He got a hold of your face, “If I’d known you were unhappy, I’d have done this long ago.” You didn’t understand as he tightened his grip on you, it hurt so bad. “You are not going anywhere.”

Something inside you changed, he was beautiful again. An angel… you wanted to laugh at the thought but he held you in place. Bonnie smiled and looked at your face, watching you carefully. “You will stay with me.”

Flashes of his anger and manipulations showcased in your brain. You set your jaw, trying your hardest to fight against his compulsion. It was how he’d gotten you so easy but you couldn’t leave. You physically couldn’t, even if you despised the man in front of you, your body had more power over your mind.

His eyes hardened into the blackest of blacks, dried blood. It was painfully ironic how things played out. “You want to stay with me.” Bonnie’s grip on the back of your neck was bruising as you felt sweat begin to trail down your forehead.

You felt like you were being choked but your throat was untouched. It was like all air had been sucked out of the room and your lungs. Painful gasping sounds were all you could respond with. Your eyes bulged out of your head as his words changed the very framework inside your brain.

It was like someone had taken a melon baller to all the hatred and contempt you held against Bonnie Gold and began scooping it out. The pain was like nothing else, burning and hot but you were ice cold. It was (ironically) hell. 

Bonnie only watched with a sick fascination as a curious smile grew on his face as you calmed down.

“How’d we get here, Bonnie?” You wondered, confused as to what happened, “My head feels horrible, god.”

He offered that same sweet smile of his, “You hit your head, dove. That’s all.”

“I thought demons couldn't get hurt.”

A laugh, “Yea, but you aren’t a full demon.” He held your cheek sweetly and you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. “Not yet at least.”

· I Don't Go In For Sweets ·

Request: by a lovely anon "set after the events of season 3. Tommy can't handle the company, he's still grieving and he has to be there for Charlie so Polly tells him she knows a girl from a good family to get married He ends up agreeing (aunt Pol can be very persuasive) but even though he's married, this new girl isn't considered as a wife. He doesn't really make any effort but his "wife" understands, he's a widowed father who lost his first wife only a year ago. However since they are...in this, she wants to make her time as enjoyable as possible for the both of them and for Charlie too. But no matter what Tommy makes it a point of honor to not let her in, to not let her replace Grace so he ignores her, he works more, tries to spend as little as possible in the house. Reader stays patient, it will be alright and Charlie is making her quite busy anyway. One night, Tommy comes home completely drunk and maybe a bit high too, he can't even make it to his office. Thankfully Reader is still awake, she takes care of him and Tommy just...melts at how gentle Reader is, he may be able to keep his distant while sober but it's much harder in his state. He admits to her how he's been feeling and all. Ever since that night, something changed, Tommy feels some comfort, some solace being around her, she accepts him wholly, even his flaws, the bad side of his business and she tries to provide some sort of safe place for when it gets too hard." (I edited the request because it was very long, but I kept all essential parts in there)

Author’s note: I loved loved loved writing this and it ended up being SUPER long, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. As always, I hope you like it and have the loveliest of days!

Warnings: season 3 SPOILERS sort of, but not really, still read at your own risk. Arranged marriage, mentions of alcohol and drugs, angst.

·

“Thomas, you may not be able to see it, but you’re breaking apart” Polly spoke with a sigh as she lit a cigarette after everyone was dismissed from a family meeting.

Everyone had left Tommy’s office in arrow house rather gaily after receiving their fair compensations for partaking in the whole Russian ordeal, all except Polly, who remained where she sat, wishing for a word with her nephew

Tommy merely scoffed at her concern before lighting his own cigarette and taking a puff “I’ll be alright”

“And Charlie?” Pol pressed knowing Tommy’s mourning was not only affecting him, but Charlie as well. “What about him?”

“He’s fine” He said before turning around to look through the window, ignoring his Aunt’s heavy stare.

“You take too much after your mother” she sighed half angry half sad “she too loved pretending everything was alright and I don’t need to remind you where that lead her”

Tommy sighed deeply, he knew he could fool anyone. Anyone but Polly. “We’ll manage”

“Consider my offer” Polly said standing up and making her way to the door “Y/n is a good girl from a good family” she persuaded before leaving the room.

Tommy sighed at his Aunt’s words, he wasn’t ready to get married again even when he knew the woman he would be marrying was a nice one. He felt like he was spitting on Grace’s grave and he hated himself for even considering the prospect, but he knew a mother figure would be good for Charlie.

He spent the rest of the day pondering about Polly’s suggestion and remembering his own childhood in the shadow of the absent tortured presence that his mother had been. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t want that for Charlie, so that same night he phoned Polly.

“I’ll do it” was all he said before hanging up. There was no need for more words, Polly would know exactly what he meant.

Exactly a week later, Tom was standing in the altar of a church that was significantly smaller than the one from his first wedding. The fact that everything about this wedding was so obscenely different from his first did soothe his guilt a bit. And as he stood there he couldn’t keep his mind from traveling to the days leading up to his wedding to Grace. She had made sure everything was perfect and had made an effort to invite every single relative she could think of. She remembered her rambling on an on about fabrics, insisting that everything ought to be perfect when he in all honestly couldn’t care less, he just wanted to marry her.

All his thoughts vanished away with a poof when Y/n came into sight. And what a sight she was. She had insisted on doing her own makeup and on pinning flowers to her hair to compliment her headpiece and her elegant, yet simple white dress flowed almost mystically as her father gave her away. She had never imagined she would be marrying someone she didn’t know, but she wanted to look her best for getting married is not something people do everyday.

When she stood in the altar, she offered her to be husband a smile which he did not return, instead turning his attention to the priest before them. She mirrored his actions, her heart beating violently under her chest as the priest began speaking.

It all felt like a blur, she could swear it had only been a second since her father had given her away and yet, the priest had already uttered the dreaded “you may now kiss the bride”

Tommy barely brushed his lips against hers and soon the sound of everyone clapping invaded her ears. They had a small party afterwards in Y/n’s former house. Her parents had invited pretty much all of their acquaintances while tommy had only invited his close relatives.

When night fell Tommy was more than ready to leave “Are you ready to go?” was one of the few sentences he uttered to his now wife that night.

She again offered him a smile before saying “yeah just let me say goodbye”

The drive to arrow house was tense, although Y/n didn’t know Thomas very well she would tell he was unhappy. She wondered about what to say to him, but couldn’t come up with anything good enough and soon enough they were pulling over in front of Tommy’s stately home.

“Charlie must already be asleep, but I'll introduce you tomorrow” he said opening Y/n’s door for her.

“It’s alright” she said looking at him, not quite knowing what to do next.

“Your parents sent some of your belongings, I've already asked the maids to take them up to your-our room” he said

“Thank you, Thomas” she smiled as she walked into the big house not yet feeling close enough to him to call him Tommy.

His name falling from her lips caused an echo of bittersweet emotions to stir inside him but he masked it perfectly well as she introduced Y/n to the maids that went to the door to take their coats.

“Frances here will show you the way to the room” he said after having made introductions.

“This way, Mrs” Frances politely said.

Y/n began following her but stopped when she didn’t hear Tommy’s footsteps behind her own.

“Are you not coming?” she asked turning to look at him.

“Maybe in a bit” was all he said before he walked away down one of the many spacious hallways of the house.

After Y/n made herself comfortable in the room and changed into her nightgown she took the time to peek around the room like one always does when one is a strange place. After familiarizing herself with it she laid down in the big bed. She was nervous, she knew what happened on wedding nights. A small chuckle stopped at her lips when she recalled the stories her close already married girlfriends told her. If she hadn’t married a complete stranger she too would be looking forward to it.

Her thoughts ended up luring her to sleep after a while despite her nerves and the night went by in a ridiculously fast flash. The next morning she woke up alone and after getting ready she made her way downstairs. Tommy and Charlie were already in the dining room when she entered it.

“good morning” she said

Charlie immediately turned his attention to her, his eyes widening while his dad merely glanced at her while he muttered a “Good morning “ of his own.

Y/n sat down next to Tommy while he cleared his throat “charles, this is Y/n. We got married yesterday so she’ll be living with us from now on”

Charlie merely nodded in understanding before playing around with his food.

A tense air flooded breakfast until Tommy stood up, having barely touched his food and spoke turning to look at Y/n “I have to go now, if you need anything feel free to ask Frances”

“Alright” Y/n replied feeling a bit disappointed, she would love to get to know him, but she already knew it was going to be difficult.

“I have to go too” Charlie announced in a timid voice, interrupting Y/n’s thoughts. Despite her disappointment she understood, maybe he was just shy and his dad just reticent. They had lost a wife and a mother after all.

The first few days after that, Charlie avoided her nearly as much as his father did and Y/n remained in lonely patience until one night Charlie’s cries interrupted her focus on the book that she had just bought. She rushed to his room and called out his name as she entered not knowing if the boy would be comfortable with her or not.

“What is it?” she asked worried as she knelt by his bed.

“I miss my mum” the boy confessed looking at her with teary eyes as he clutched his blanket.

Y/n felt her heart give a small ache at his confession and in an attempt to comfort him she spoke “She’s not really gone, you know?”

“She’s dead” the boy sobbed.

“but people who die, don’t leave us. Not really anyhow” she said hesitantly rubbing his arm. “just because we cant see them doesn’t mean they are not here”

“I miss seeing her” he continued.

“Oh but you can still see her”

“how”

“before you go to bed just think about her, then she’ll visit you in your dreams” Y/n spoke as if she was telling a fairy tale.

“really?” the boy’s eyes widened.

“really” Y/n confirmed “But you have to think really really hard”

“I’ll try” Charlie said having calmed down a bit.

“very well” Y/n said as she stood up, but Charlie’s voice stopped her.

“can you stay till I fall asleep?”

After that night, Charlie hardly left Y/n’s side and she felt much better with his company for she was sure if he wasn’t there keeping her on her toes all day she would fall into a depressive chasm induced by her husband’s absence.

On the rare moments he was home she tried to strike up conversation with him over breakfast or late at night when he came home and she was burdened by insomnia. But Tommy only humored her with a few short responses before excusing himself or turning to face the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t only the fact that he avoided her as much as he could, but he also made it a priority to exclude her at all times. She was never invited into family meetings or night’s at The Garrison so she thought it was a miracle when tommy didn’t oppose to her planning Charlie’s birthday party.

She invited only Tommy’s family which instantly warmed up to her, noticing what a good influence she was and Polly wanted to slap Thomas for the way he had been acting throughout his marriage to Y/n. Almost feeling guilty for getting her into this mess.

When the party ended Tommy shut himself in his office like he often did when he was at home and though he had never given Y/n a reason to believe she was welcome in there of all places, she found herself allowing herself in after putting Charlie to bed.

Tommy looked up as she entered and let out a sigh before turning his attention back to some papers he had been reading.

“I noticed you didn’t have any” she commented not letting his sigh deflate her as she laid a plate with a slice of homemade chocolate cake on his desk. “it’s really good if I may say so myself” she mused sitting down in a chair opposite to his as she dug in with a fork in her own slice.

“I don’t go in for sweets” he stated.

“Not even chocolate?” Y/n tried, but tommy didn’t answer, instead he just shook his head.

“I still think you should try it, it’s not overly sweet, and…”

“is there anything you need?” he interrupted bluntly a bit harsher than he would’ve liked.

His tone caught her off guard and when she couldn’t come up with an answer tommy again turned his attention back to his papers.

“I wish you could let me in” She softly confessed after a few tense seconds.

“Well I wish we hadn’t married but I guess things don’t always go the way we want them to go”

Tommy knew he had crossed a line by the silence that again settled into the room. He looked up at Y/n with her parted lips and misty eyes. They exchanged glances for a second but instead of allowing him to see her like that any longer, she stood up setting her plate on his desk and walked away, only allowing a few tears to drop by when she was out of the room and his sight.

After that she stopped trying to get closer to him. He still loved his late wife and she understood, people in grief never mean what they say after all, but his words stung nonetheless.

She stopped trying to wait for him at night to see if he had gotten home alright and during breakfast she only uttered polite good mornings.

One night however, Y/n was yanked out of a peaceful sleep by a loud crash. She was on her feet in no time and after checking into Charlie’s room to see if he was alright she cautiously ventured downstairs. A few incoherent mumbles filled her ears before her husband came into sight, fumbling with his coat to get it off.

“need help?” she asked earning his attention.

“I’m fine” he said finally taking it off but as he went to take a step to begin walking the floor under him moved and he lost his balance, his knees crashing loudly against the wooden floor.

Y/n offered him a hand and helped him up. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, his hands were shaky, consequence of the snow, no doubt. “let’s get you upstairs”

“I can do it on me own” he slurred letting go of her hand.

“stop being so stubborn” she derided, snaking one of her arms around his waist as she helped him upstairs.

Y/n helped him into bed, tookoff his shoes and went to the bathroom to fetch a small towel and some cold water.

She dampened the towel with the cold water before dabing it gently on Tommy’s forehead. His eyes never leaving her face as she did so, making her grow a bit nervous. She continued, trying her best to ignore it until she felt his hand softly caressing her cheek.

“You are beautiful” he rasped.

“Stop it, Thomas” she said feeling her cheeks grow red when she felt a bit sad that he had to be completely drunk to compliment her.

Even in his drunken state he seemed to notice he was making her uncomfortable so he held his tongue until Y/n laid in bed next to him after turning on the lights.

“I’m sorry” he interrupted the silence “For the way I’ve been acting” the whiskey and cocaine making him more vulnerable and open “I guess I was afraid that if I let you in then she would disappear”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but then her voice came in a soft exhausted tone“ I don’t intend to replace her. You don’t need to act all defensive and secretive. Even if it’s not what you wanted, we are married.”

“I Know” was all he said.

Y/n expected him to withdraw more from her after showing himself that vulnerable to her that night but she was wrong. He began arriving home earlier, sometimes even asking if he could come along on the walks she and Charlie so much adored going on. And Y/n finally felt her marriage was going somewhere maybe it wasn’t based on love yet, but it was something.

One day she was at the stables while Charlie was taking a nap. She had always adored horses.

“I didn’t know you liked horses” came Tommy’s smooth voice causing her to jump.

“You never asked” she smiled petting a black horse as he walked closer to her.

“We could go out for a ride, I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind letting you borrow his horse” Tommy offered as he too began to pet the horse, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s for a brief second.

“I’d love to, but I am afraid I don’t know how to ride, Tommy” she said, panicking for a second after having called him that. But she rested assured as soon as he spoke again.

“Well that can be fixed” he said opening the door of the stall and guiding the horse outside.

“You mean now?” Y/n asked with a laugh.

“Got something better to do?” he asked walking out of the stable with the horse. Y/n observed tommy as he prepared the horse. She had never seen him so gentle and calm before and she only realized she had been staring when Tommy directed his attention to her to ask her if she was ready.

“I think so” she said going to stand next to the horse wondering how the hell to climb up. But before she had any more time to think she felt Tommy’s hands on her waist giving her a push that allowed her to pull herself up on the animal. It was a good thing she had chosen to wear slacks that day, she thought.

“Goodness this is high” she said nervously looking down at Tommy when he began guiding the horse to move in a slow walk.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall” he promised repressing a mirthful tone at her nervousness.

He guided the horse with her around the property in the crisp evening air and Y/n allowed herself to relax with every step the horse took. Tommy’s presence made her feel safe and protected and she found it increasingly harder to look away from his figure. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him.

When the sky began turning soft shades of purple and orange the pair returned to the stables. When the time came from Y/n to come down from the horse, tommy helped her again. Y/n began to love the feeling of him touching her and when her feet touched the ground in front of Thomas, he didn’t remove his hands from her waist right away and instead fixed his blue eyes on her, not wanting to stop looking at her.

She too fixed her eyes on Tommy as she felt a silent gasp in the base of her throat. That was the way she would’ve liked him to look at her on their wedding day. Tommy then leaned in, almost as if he were asking for permission before he tenderly pressed his lips to Y/n’s.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz @slytherinicequeen @lilymurphy03

❝holy❞

summary ─ “intimate,” he decided to say, “touch me here.”

pairing ─ dark!priest!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ dark fic, smut, +18, corruption, handjob, innocence kink (?)

a/n ─ this is a dark fic. i don’t have much experience on writing dark fics, but better late than never, right? i hope i nailed writing this, and hope you guys like it! please leave a comment if you liked it! thank you <33 [ps: i somehow didn’t feel motivated writing this and i know this sucks, so i’m really sorry if you had high hopes :( i’ll try to make it up with the others!]

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE: dark!priest!bucky + church sex + corruption kink

The church was peaceful.

Father Barnes had always liked it when the church was left to him only: No visitors, no cleaners ─ no one. Only him. It was like he was alone with his existence and the weight of his past sins. It was a time where he could talk to God about what he had done before he found his way again, as if there was someone listening to him.

Friday nights were the quietest and emptiest night in a week. People were tired and excited about their upcoming weekend, so they avoided coming to the church unless it was Sunday and their last off-day before they jumped into another busy week. The heavy rain outside was also a prominent effect of why the church was empty. If Father Barnes had not lived in the church, he’d have gone home already, too.

Father Barnes sighed deeply, eyes closed; he walked in the quiet, large room. The smell of burning candles and fresh earth, the rhythmic sound of rain beating the church windows… It was peaceful. So much so that, Father Barnes felt like he finally found his footing, his safe space. He had been places where it was too loud to even hear himself think. He had smelt so many unpleasant scents; rotting flesh, dried blood and dead bodies.

He deserved this peaceful moment, this safe space.

Smiling to himself, Father Barnes turned to the French church doors. He always locked them after the last mass which was around 7PM, and since today was Friday and the church was empty, he figured he could close it a little earlier than usual.

As he reached for the doorknobs, he heard rushed footsteps. Father Barnes tensed, he couldn’t help but stay alert at the sound; it was an undying habit he picked it up while he was in Army. He turned the doorknobs slowly, sticking his head out to see who was rushing where.

It was when he saw you: Soaking wet from the rain, hair sticking to your face; your clothes were wet, thin and he saw you shudder violently. Your eyes were wild, scared, and Father Barnes frowned slightly. His frown got deeper when he saw the state you were in with its full power. He stood in front of the door, now, watching you intently because you looked like you could pass out any second. You stood on your place, frozen, when you saw him watching you.

“Please,” you whispered as you walked towards him with shaky steps. “I need some place to stay for the night, please. Father, please.” Father Barnes extended his hand out to you because he was still afraid you’d fall.

“Come in, little lady,” he murmured, “You look cold and sick,” he couldn’t help but add. You grabbed his large, warm hand and shivered. He was right, you were cold and sick. Murmuring a soft ‘thank you’, you stepped inside of the warm and dry church. The air was filled with a scent that reminded you your home a little, but you ignored the thought.

That place was no longer your home, you thought.

“Let’s get you to the warmth, shall we?” You heard the kind Father speaking to you softly as he walked towards you after locking the church doors. You nodded meekly. You’d do anything to get warm again, and it was showing up on your face. Father Barnes smiled at you. The hand you held moved from your hand to your arm, and he gently led you deep inside the church.

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting in front of the fireplace. Father Barnes had made you tea, with honey because you told him you liked it that way. He even gave you dry clothes, claiming that if you were to stay in your wet ones, you’d get sick very badly. You couldn’t argue, just nodded, and accepted the clothes he held out to you.

Now you were in soft, white and thick nightgown, with a warm cup held between your palms, sitting in front of a fireplace. You were grateful for what the Father had done for you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the quiet felt too nice to be interrupted with loud talking voice. “You didn’t have to take me in, but you did it anyway. Thank you, Father.” You smiled at him shyly. Bucky smiled at you back, though his mind was wondering things that he shouldn’t have.

“It’s what anyone with a conscience would do, little lady,” he said. You felt your cheeks heat up with the pet name and buried your face into your tea cup. Bucky smirked darkly at the shy look on your face.

The white gown on you, your shy face and wide, innocent eyes were driving him mad ever since he took you in. Your hair had dried mostly, and Father Barnes wanted to bury his face in it. He wanted to inhale your scent, wanted to hold you close to his touch starved body. He knew that you came to him by thinking that he’d keep you safe somehow, but little did you know that you actually stepped into a wolf’s den…

“No, sometimes a conscience doesn’t make you do this,” you argued softly, eyes down. “Thank you, again. I don’t know how I can repay this.” You smiled at him one more time, and Father Barnes cursed himself when he felt his cock stirring in his uniform. He knew exactly how you could repay him, but he also knew he needed to lure you in for it.

“You could help me about something,” he started, voice still soft. You perked up immediately, eager to help. Placing your cup carefully onto small table next to where you were sitting, you turned to Father Barnes. He smiled at your enthusiasm. He stood up from where he was sitting in front of you, he found his next seat next to you. “I’m very bad at letting people touch me,” he murmured, “Can you teach me how it feels to be touched?” He asked. You bit your lip. You’ve never touched a man like this before, but you could do it for this good man.

“I can try,” you murmured. Father Barnes beamed at you. “How do you want me to touch you?” Father Barnes had to take a deep breath to constrict himself not to jump on you at that moment. You immediately shied away. “Have I said something wrong? I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. Father Barnes shook his head.

“No, little one, you haven’t,” he assured you, hands over yours. You exhaled, relieved, and held his hands back. “It had been a while,” he continued, “No women touched me that way. I forgot the feeling. I was hoping you could help me remember it?”

“What way, Father?” You sat up straight. “I can try like I said!” Father Barnes almost groaned at your eagerness.

“Intimate,” he decided to say, “Touch me here.” Father Barnes took your hand and placed over the bulge in his pants. You gasped. Your eyes wide, you looked at him. “It had been so long, little one. I just want to feel good, can you help me?” You swallowed and nodded. Father smiled at you encouragingly. “Undo them, little one. Don’t be shy.”

You reached out to pull his zipper down and stripped him off his briefs. You gasped again when you saw his cock; fully hard, angry red tip and tight balls. You’ve never been this close to a man’s intimate parts before. You somehow found this moment arousing, too, but you didn’t know what you were feeling exactly since you’ve never felt this way.

“Touch it, dove,” he murmured. “It needs you.” You stole a glance from him, your eyes came in contact with his burning blue eyes. You took a deep breath and brought your hand over the flesh. Making a fist around it, you squeezed lightly. Father Barnes sucked in a harsh breath. “Move it, up and down, dove. You’re doing very good so far.” You felt yourself preen under the compliment, you did as he said.

Moving your hand up and down, you continued to squeeze him lightly. Whenever your hand came in contact with his angry red tip, Father Barnes grunted like he had been punched. You licked your lips and moved your hand a little faster.

“Tighter,” he breathed, “Hold it tighter.” You squeezed your fist tighter around him, and Father Barnes groaned. “Yes, I’m loving it, pet, so good.” You smiled at him shyly and continued to move your hand.

It went on like that for good ten minutes; your hand started to move faster with each passing minute. You were jacking him quickly now, swirling your thumb over his tip like he instructed you to. He was groaning and moaning under your fingers. Your cheeks were burning like hell, and the fire next to you had nothing to with it. Father Barnes’ hips started to thrust up after a short while. His balls were hitting your hand with his each thrust.

“Tighter, baby,” he groaned. You squeezed him tightly, causing him to moan brokenly and loudly, head thrown back. You licked your lips. “Yes!” He cried out. “Yes, baby, keep going!” You didn’t falter your hand, kept it moving as he thrusted in it. “Fuck!” Father Barnes exclaimed. “Fuck─”

Suddenly, white spurts of come covered your hand. Some of it dirtying up the Father’s clothes, you continued to move your hand until he stopped you, breathless. He chuckled deeply.

“Damn, dove,” he chuckled again, “Thank you, that was exactly what I needed.” You smiled at him as you pulled your hand back. “Wanna taste it? C’mon, lick it and see if you like it.” You frowned slightly, but you did as he told you: Licking your hand clean, you found out that you liked the taste.

“I liked it,” you murmured. Father Barnes smiled widely at you.

“Well, you can have as much as you want as long as you stay here with me,” he said, and you nodded.

You weren’t welcomed at your own home, anyway. Father Barnes just offered you to stay in this beautiful church with him and asked for your touch in return.

There was no better deal than this. 

Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned

Pairings: Dabi x Reader

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: Smut, Incubus!Dabi, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, slight hypnosis, horror elements, sex in a church.

Ever since you were a child, something about that church always got under your skin. Being inside that old building always left a fallacious sentiment. No matter the days, months, or years that were spent performing church service with your whole family.

Every time your younger self would attempt saying something about it to an adult, they would always brush off the child pulling on the ends of their shirt with trembling hands and wobbly pouts.

In the eyes of the adults, you were just a child with plenty of imagination.

And your nana's words never helped either.

For "Nothing bad can ever linger in the house of God." 

That was back when you were 18. It was the last time you mentioned anything about that eerie feeling. As well as the last time you stepped inside that church, much to your parent's disappointment.

Now...Five years later, you faced the same house where you grew up, while carrying a suitcase in hand. And a huge, resentful scowl twisting your sceptical face. 

Your parents had begged you to come home for the holidays. The same parents who didn't hesitate when they turned their backs on their daughter, after she tore the rosary off her neck.

Had it not been for your nana's decaying health, you would have never come back in the first place. But the elder woman could leave this world any moment now, and she begged to see her granddaughter one more time.

Having dinner with a bunch of people who did nothing but judge your every move was detestable. From your clothes, to your hair, to your studies, everything seemed wrong in their judgemental, hypocrite eyes. It became downright awkward, when you did not keep your thoughts to yourself.

No longer were you the little girl they could carelessly brush off. But that didn't mean you were the golden child either. And frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The only thing you wish could actually change, were the everlasting tremors you felt each time you passed by that old church. Three blocks away from your parent's home. The same church you could watch every single night, through the window of your childhood room.

Just gazing at that building was enough to feel those tremors all over again. You thought the feeling would disappear as you grew older. That maybe, just maybe, your family's words were true.

If only they knew how wrong they truly were...

That night, as you laid in bed, something bizarre happened. You were used to fall asleep at midnight, allowing the soothing melody of the crickets to lure you into a peaceful slumber.But this specific night, something was off. You had fallen asleep at the same time as always, but not to the regular, dreamless night.

But to someone calling out for you. A deep, raspy voice, kept calling your name, and although unable to comprehend the language, somehow, you could understand what it wanted.

Come to me...

The instant your eyes stirred open, a thick and heavy fog made its way deep inside your head, clouding each and every of your thoughts. Except for that urge to follow the voice.

With stupor glazed eyes and a mindless stare, you peeled the blankets off your body and rose up from the bed. No one noticed you walking to the front door, for they were all resting deeply. 

Hurry...

The front door was easily opened. This neighborhood was one of the quietest and safest places around, so the need to lock the house at night was unnecessary.

Each step led you down a certain path. You were uncertain where, but that voice most certainly did, as it guided you through the dark and empty streets without much of a struggle.

Had anyone seen you outside this late at night, with an empty look in those usually bright eyes, they would have thought you were just sleepwalking and ended up outside.

Not even the aching in your feet, from stepping over sticks and stones was enough to wake you up. Whatever hold that voice had in your mind was stronger than the feeling of stone digging under your bare feet.

You couldn't even tell how much time had passed, but eventually you reached the place where this voice kept dragging you to. Away from the comfort of you plush, albeit small bed.

An old door with elegant, yet subtle carvings all over its surface, currently blocked the path that lead towards the alluring hum, demanding your presence. 

With the strength of your whole body, the door opened effortlessly, allowing you to step inside. 

Come.

The moment you stumbled inside, the voice calling out, had a drastic change. The most prominent of them all, was the clarity behind each and every word. 

This time, you were able to understand it all.

Come closer, little one...

Once again, your legs moved on their own. Following after the strong, magnetic like feeling that kept on pulling you forwards, like a moth entranced by a radiant flame. 

Something changed through your surroundings in an instant. The door slammed itself closed with a tremendous force, rattling the whole building with overwhelming magnitude. 

You didn't know what did it, but that chain of events created an uproar, startling you out of that trance, and immediately dissipated the foggy sensation deeply fixated inside your head. 

And once your head became clear, nothing but worry began swirling inside your head, accompanied by that very same quivers that went down your spine ever since you turned 18.

Because, you were standing right in front of an all too familiar altar, one inside the very same church that you've come to despise over the years.

Worry began brewing inside you at an exorbitant rate. That horrible sensation of something dark and hostile lurking around the corridors began increasing by the second. Bile threatening to crawl its way up your throat the more you stayed in place. 

You had to leave this place, now.

Or at least that was the idea, but no matter how much you tried to open those vast doors trapping you inside, neither of them budged in the slightest. How in the world did they get locked in the first place? The priest had always made it clear that the church's doors should always remain open.

This wasn't normal, at all.

Neither this, or the sudden heath drapped over your back that sent chills down your body, could be considered normal.

"Took you long enough."

The same deep, raspy voice from before, was coming from behind, Sending chill through your body. There was no doubt in your head, that whoever kept calling out for you, and the person standing behind you, were one and the same individual.

"Why don't you turn around, so I can finally see that pretty face of yours?"

A slim hand made its way up your shoulder. Long, sharp claws toyed around with the thin strap of your tank top, making their way under the thin fabric to drag themselves over the soft skin of your shoulder. 

Even if you wanted to follow said command, it was nearly impossible to do so when your whole body was frozen in fright. 

Carefully, your head turned to the side, just enough to take a small glimpse of this...man? Slowly, your body turned around, and you finally saw the one responsible of bringing you here.

A man stood before you, or at least, you thought he was a human male at first. Had it not been for the long pair of horns on his head, slightly angled down before circling all the way to the back of his skull.

That was just one of the few things about him that caught your eye. 

The second thing, was that despite the cold, harsh breeze inside the building, his chest was bare from any clothing, and the only thing that covered this man's psyche was a pair of black, leather pants. 

Even his feet were bare, which by the way, also presented the same sharp, black claws as the ones on his hands.

But if that wasn't enough, the last thing you noticed was his scars.

Nearly his whole body was covered with charred skin, holding on to his body by the metallic stitches that retained everything together. A knot could be felt in your stomach when you saw his face. 

Those very same scars and stitches, were also over the lower half of his face, and right under his eyes as well. That mesmerizing pair of teal colored eyes of his, that you could almost swear glowed in the dark, calling out for your soul.

He slowly advanced towards you with a long stride, but for every step he took forward, you took one backwards, trying to maintain as much distance between you and him as possible. 

Or at least, that was the idea. 

Which came crashing down when you felt that cursed door stopping you from going anywhere. He just smirked lazily when he saw the fear inside your eyes, as you turned to glare nervously at the dreaded piece of wood.

"Going somewhere, little one?" One of his hands came up to play with a lock of your hair. When his knuckles brushed against your cheek, some kind of energy racked your head momentarily. It was like an electric shock that sent your brain into a haze. Almost like an instinct, your head tried leaning towards his hand, yearning for more that feeling.

He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes. Judging by his behaviour, he felt something similar. And when he opened them again, you could have sworn his pupils had turned into slits. 

"Who would have thought, that after all this time," His eyes wandered all over your body. "You would be coming back? Must be my lucky day." 

The same fog that dragged you all the way here came back with force, slowly clouding all of your thoughts like it did before.

It wasn't until he leaned towards your much smaller frame, that you were able to snap out of it. Especially when you felt his breathing ghost over your neck. Blissfully inhaling your scent.

His hum of approval was all the answer you received. But his words were what made you feel real panic.

"You smell so good, so much different from other humans." One of his hands rested on your hip, just above the fabric covering your body. "You'll be a perfect vessel." 

...Vessel...? 

He pushed himself closer, trapping you against the door. And started kissing softly at the skin all over the side of your neck, before leaving a trail down your collarbone, causing another surge of electricity to rattle your body from head to toe.

The feeling of sharp fangs grazing your skin startled you. Frantically, your eyes went all over the place, eventually landing back on the man...no, on the creature in front of you, purring, nipping and peppering your chest with his lips.

That same feeling of dread triggered your fight or flight instincts. And with shaky arms you mustered as much of your strength, pushing the demon away with a shriek. And before he had a chance to lay his hands on you one more time, you had already escaped from him. 

Even he was caught off guard by the push, staggering back with surprised eyes, that slowly became darker. Like those of a starved animal, ready to pounce on his next meal.

In the meantime, you had escaped towards the back of the church. Running away and hoping to find another way out of this damned place.

"I always knew there was something wrong about this place! But did anyone ever listen?! Noooo!" Even as a mere whisper, your voice echoed through the halls. You had to cover your mouth in order to hold back a yelp, when something was violently slammed against the walls. 

Tears began filling your eyes as soon as you heard an approaching pair of footsteps. His voice kept getting louder the closer he got.

"Thought I scared you off for good. But you're a big girl now, aren't you?!"

He shouted bitterly, footsteps becoming erratic.  

Somehow you managed to avoid him, and ran all the way back to one of the utility closets at the back of the halls. Carefully, you opened the first door that came into view and hid inside the small space. 

Hiding between cleaning supplies was never a good idea, but you had no other choice, unless allowing this thing to slaughter you was one of them.

Teardrops became dangerously close to spill when you heard his voice getting closer. The louder his footsteps became, the longer you tried to hold in your breath from the absolute terror you felt.

"I've been watching you for a long time, y'know?" His voice was different this time, calmer, confident, but his frustration was still evident. "Ever since you turned into a grown woman. I could tell there was something different about you!" 

Something was once again thrown into a wall, a loud crack could be heard from the wood of whatever he had thrown this time.

"And when you took off that fucking rosary?! I could feel it, I just knew you had something special!" 

His footsteps became louder, a warning of just how close he came to your hiding spot. You've never felt this terrified in your life, watching his shadow become bigger the closer he got...But then, he just walked past the door, without even bothering to look back.

When he walked around the corner, you opened the door with care, afraid that the slightest of creaks could alert him of your presence.

And then, you dashed back towards the main entrance.

The fear rushing through your veins kept pushing you, telling you to hurry up and get out of this place. And as soon as you were out of this building you would go to your parent's house to take your stuff and never come back again. All those years you were right, but nobody bothered to listen. 

Much to your dismay, the main doors didn't budge in the slightest. Out of frustration, your fist slammed against the wood, the sound echoed loudly all around the place. And your blood went cold when you heard him approaching. 

Hiding in the same place as before was not an option, and in a desperate measure, you ran toward the altar at the front, pulling the cloth and crouching down to hide underneath. 

It was such a small spot, that you had to pull your knees close to your chest in order to fit in. Your whole body trembled with fear. More so when his presence could be felt as soon as he came into the main halls.

"Where are you, little one? I promise you won't get hurt." The tone of his voice was not reassuring.

You may have turned your back on the church all those years ago. But in that moment, you couldn't help praying to God for your safety. So with your eyes closed and hands intertwined together. You began chanting the very same prayer, strictly inculcated in your family for generations.

Our Father, 

Who art in heavan,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, 

Thy will be done on earth 

as it is in Heavan

Give us this day our daily bread,

And forgive our trespasses

as we forgive those 

Who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

"Amen/Amen."

Your whole body broke into a cold swear. And when you felt a cold breeze brush against your trembling body, the thought of opening your eyes made your heart pound harshly against your ribcage, so harshly, it could be heard resonating through the small space you were currently hiding in.

Slowly, slowly turning sideways. The sight in front of you drew out a blood curling scream. The pristine cloth of the altar had been pulled to the side.

And he was crouching down in front of you, with a deep, desperate hunger in those feral eyes of his, completely engulfed into nothing but pitch-black. The feral grin on his face sealing your fate in an instant.

"God can't help you now."

You were dragged out from under the altar by the ankle. Struggling, kicking, and begging for him to release you, but each and every word fell on deaf, pointed ears as his body hovered above yours, trapping you between the carpeted floor and his lean body.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear something was wrong with him. The patches of non-burned skin looked sickly pale, like he hadn't been able to eat, or sleep for a long time...Were demons able of sleep in the first place?

"Please...Don't hurt me..." He ignored your pleading whimpers, observing with half-closed eyes as you became closer to burst into tears. The moment the small, salty droplets ran down the corners of your eyes, he leaned down, and kissed them away with a softness that left you paralyzed.

No longer was he behaving as the same creature slamming pews against the walls in a fit of rage. It was almost like a switch had been flipped, and somebody completely different had taken his place.

"You really think, that I'd do something to hurt my precious vessel?" His palm caressed the side of your face. The touch of his skin was electrifying against your own, sending goosebumps through your whole body.

"I'm not going to hurt you, so just relax your pretty little body, and allow your master to take care of you."

He leaned down once again, this time whispering in your ear with that mesmerizing voice of his.

"The name's Dabi, you better remember that name when it's time to worship you master's cock." He growled eagerly into your ear. 

All those year he could only watch from afar. Now that you were back, Dabi finally had you right where he wanted you. 

He would not let this chance go to waste.

Once again, Dabi started out by kissing your neck, and he had to admit, those gasps were like heavenly music to his ears, as ironic as it sounded.

His black claws started to become longer, and sharper. They made quick work of your shirt, dragging themselves all over the fabric and tearing the thin cotton tank top to nothing but shreds, causing the cold air inside the church to hit your nipples with full force. Even during the hottest time of the year, the inside of the building always felt cold.  

Dabi ignored your shivering. Kissing and nipping all the way down from your neck, to the skin of your chest, leaving a small trail of bites on his path. His lips reached down the plush skin of your belly. The cold inside the building could barely be felt from the warmth he made you feel.

Panic overtook your senses when his hands went to the hem of your shorts, finger hooking into the fabric as he attempted to pull them down. 

"W-Wait!" You yelled out with hesitation, afraid that your words could end up with a raging demon bringing your demise. But it would probably be worse if he found out on his own, right?

"I'm not...I'm not a virgin!" He stopped immediately, and for a minute you saw your life pass before your eyes. 

A low, sarcastic laughter was the only thing he answered with. When you looked at him, Dabi's shoulders were shaking, and he couldn't stop laughing.

"You think that's the only thing demons care about?" You gasped once again, when the remains of your clothes were suddenly torn to shred for the second time, leaving you completely bare to the creature kneeling before you, who took in the sight of your every curve with a famished glint in his eyes.

"Virgins are overrated. Innocence? Purity? Tch." He scoffed in mockery. "Wanna know a secret, little one? Sometimes, the people who claim to be the purest, are actually the worst of them all."

He pulled your legs apart, chest grumbling in satisfaction at the sight of your bare sex present before him. And when your hands went down to attempt covering you body, he just growled, trapping them both by the wrist. Claws digging slightly into the skin, just enough to leave small traces of pain.

"Don't you ever, hide yourself from your master." He growled, slowly releasing your hands, and when you made no other attempts to hide yourself, he retook his proper place in between those exquisite legs.

"And don't think acting all shy will let you off so easily. I can tell just by your scent, just how many people you've laid under the sheets with. I must say, you have experience." 

Dabi had to say, that watching your face flushing that harshly, was a sight he'd treasure for all of his eternal life. 

Dabi spent centuries trapped inside this damn church, without a single chance to satiate his hunger. Watching people come and go inside the building to confess their sins, hoping the act would save them from the hellfire awaiting for them. 

He could say, this was a nice change of scenario.

"Do you need a sin for your next confessional?" The warmth of his breath fanned over your core, and the high pitched squeak coming out through parted lips did nothing but increase his appetite. "'Cause I've got a few in mind I'd like to try with you."

As ironic as it sounded, Dabi almost wanted to thank the heavens. Given that your scent was already addicting, but the moment he dived down, finally getting a taste of your body? He became addicted it.

Addicted enough, to begin devouring you with nothing but pure desperation. Drawing out a breathless moan from you. Nothing but overwhelming pleasure shot through your body from every stroke of that forked tongue against your soaked folds. 

"You taste so good." He pulled away for a second, watching your eyes closed shut, the dark flush across your cheeks and the way your breathing came out in heavy puffs of air. "Even better than the finest of wines."  

Your arms wouldn't stop roaming, looking for something, anything to cling on of dear life as Dabi continued lapping your glistening core, with nothing but pure vigor in those long, sensual strokes. 

And you only hoped it wouldn't anger the demon when you pulled on his hair. As terrified -and aroused- as you felt, the desperation to grab on to something for dear life was stronger than self restrain.

Dabi's reaction was far from expected. His strokes became fiercer, the soft muscle pushing its way inside. Savoring the taste of those velvet walls that coated his jaw with their sweet essence.

Centuries had passed since the last time he fed, and now that he had the chance, Dabi would not let such an exquisite meal go to waste.

You couldn't understand, why did it felt so different from other times? something about the way he devoured you, was too different from your previous partners. It was so good, so addicting, and you couldn't get enough of it.

Your hips buckled against him, a warm feeling began crawling all over your body the more he kept his head in between your legs. And when his thumb went to caress your clit, that feeling began getting stronger.

"Ah!...Dabi, please...!" Your hips buckled against his face, and were quickly brought down by his hands, and a snarl that froze you in place.

"You're interrupting my meal, little one. Stay still, and maybe your master will be generous enough to let you cum."  

As soon as you went quiet, Dabi continued where he left off. Each slurp just kept making even warmer on the inside. And when he pulled away to suckle on your swollen clit. It felt like an explosion, nothing but one of the sharpest bursts of pleasure ran through your lower regions, shortly followed by a loud scream and your back arching from the sweet release. 

"You're such a filthy little thing." Dabi wiped his chin with the back of his hand. A satisfied grin on his face as he waited for you to regain your breath. "But this was just an appetizer. Now, get ready for the main course."

Everything around was like a blurr, the only thing you recognized was the silhouette of the demon before you. Something felt different around him. That feeling that brought terror upon you disappeared, and when you finally looked at him with clarity, something was different.

That sick complexion of his was gone. Pale skin regaining a healthy looking color, and his eyes became clear from that feral like state.

You didn't have time to ask, as he took you by the wrists, tugging you slightly without much of an effort. And positioned you both in a way, that he was laying down on the floor, while your sat down on his lap. 

Looking down between your bodies -When did he take his pants off?!-, the sight of his erect member was definitely a sight to remember...

For starters, his head was modestly pointed, followed by a trail of ridges all the way to the base, and not just that...It was huge. 

You may not be a virgin. But how the hell was that going to fit in?

"Like what you see?" Even his attitude had changed, now he wouldn't stop teasing, at the same time he took a hold of your hips. His hands dragged your body back and forth, grinding your lower lips against him with leisurely gestures. The friction, along with how sensitive you were from your previous orgasm, turned you into a whiny mess for the second time that night.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad. Nobody, and i mean NOBODY, will ever be able to satisfy you. Not like your master."

Slowly, he lifted up your hips, before pulling you back down, slamming his girth deep inside your throbbing cunt until the base of his length was pressing against your clit. 

You screamed in bewilderment. Amazed by the way Dabi made you feel as he buried himself deeply inside of you. The way your insides stretched, adjusting themselves to his size, and the friction from every ridge of his girth was absolutely marvelous. It was like a fire consuming you from the inside. It was hot, so hot that it could burn, and you wanted more.

"What's wrong, little one?" Dabi grunted in satisfaction, loving the dazed look in your eyes from the slightest of movements. His hands guiding your hips back and forth with a quick pace. "Enjoying your master's cock?" 

"Ah!...Y-Yes!...I love my master's c-cock!" You yelled out, leaning forward to rest your hands on his chest, head tilted back with pure euphoria on your face as Dabi had his way with your body.

He had to admit it, you really were perfect. And there'd be no way he'd let you walk away once he was done with you. 

"Then prove it, show me how much you love to be fucked by your master! Worship his cock like your life depended on it!" 

Obeying his every command, you began moving on top of him. When Dabi said he'd ruin you, he was serious. Nothing you've ever done before came remotely close to what he made you feel in that moment. 

Each and every of his thrusts was powerful enough to make you see stars. With every thrust, his head brushed against the deepest corners of your sloppy insides, easily kissing your womb.

A part of you felt ashamed of your actions. You were riding a demon's cock in the very same place where your parents got married. The very same place where they baptized you.

Many sins were committed during your life, but this? This was definitely a sentence to hell.

"Oh...Oh God!" Your eyes widened in bliss, wandering all around the walls of the church. In the midst of it all, you realized Dabi had positioned you both, in a way that you sat right in front of the statue of the lord. It almost made it seem as if the lord himself, was judging your actions with nothing but a disgraceful eye.

Dabi let out one of the darkest chuckles you've ever heard. Dark enough to make every hair in your body stand. 

"God won't hear you now, little one. But the devil will"

In the blink of an eye, he was sitting up. Embracing your waist with a deathly grip. His already rough pace became downright barbaric, so much that it started hurting, but it hurt so fucking good.

The feeling of another climax rattled your thoughts. Everything around you became a blur from the upcoming high. Dabi felt it, and knew he had to get it done fast, it was the perfect chance, and there was no way he would let it go to waste.

"You're getting close, little one. Aren't you?" He pulled your body closer to him, into the suffocating waves of heat. Your wrapped your own arms around his heck, and held him closer to yourself, running your nails along his scalp in the process, which made him purr in enjoyment. 

For a minute, you could have sworn you saw something akin to a blue flame coming to life around him. "Do it my pet, come for your master. And lend your soul to me."

His mouth latched on your neck, tongue running circles around the soft skin, looking for a certain spot. And when he found just the right place, his fangs bit down harshly. Right at the same time your climax overtook your senses. 

All you could do was scream as you felt him tear on the skin with those sharp fangs of his. A warm, sticky sensation ran down your shoulder all the way to your chest. Followed by a scorching pain.

The smell of copper and smoke became intoxicating as Dabi's body trembled, and then he let out an earth shaking roar as he came. Filling your womb with rope after rope of scalding, hot cum.

Exhaustion took over your limp, shaking body. As much as you tried to move, even attempting to lift a finger was considered impossible.

Dabi planted a small, tender kiss on the spot where he sunk his fangs less than a minute ago. During that time, your sweat covered bodies clung to eachother's, still yearning for much craved contact, all while trying to catch your breath. 

When he pulled away, Dabi admired his work as the bite he left on your neck glowed brightly, before dying down and leaving behind a beautiful, burgundy mark. 

Finally, after so many years trapped in this goddamn place, he finally had a vessel. Now, he could leave once and for all.

Dabi carefully pulled away, watching his seed run down your shaky legs with every little throb of that delicious, little hole of yours. If claiming a vessel wasn't that draining to begin with, he'd definitely fuck you again. 

"You, are perfect."  He carried your passed out self in his arms. Taking you all the way to one of the pews, where he laid you down softly on the wooden surface. One of his hands brushed a loose strand of hair back into its proper place. "I'll see you soon, little one."

Taking one last look at his sleeping vessel, Dabi turned on his feet and walked to the church's entrance. As soon as he got closer, the door opened gracefully on its own. 

For the first time in centuries, he was finally able to leave his prison. And with a deep breath of relief and a serene smile, Dabi walked away from the church, disappearing into the dark depths of the night.

......

"...W...up....Wa...ke...Wake up.." Someone kept calling out your name.

Slowly, your eyelids stirred open, and the first thing you saw was a black cassock coming into view, accompanied by the worried face of a middle-aged man you've known since childhood.

What was father August doing in your room?

"Thank god, you're finally awake. What are you doing sleeping in the church?"

Wait...Church?

Your eyes widened in an instant. Father August's words made the memories from last night come back abruptly. The voice, being locked inside the church....And Dabi.

You got up from the pew where you had fallen asleep, and looked around frantically before looking down at your body. All of your clothes were unscathed. But you could have sworn they were torn to nothing but rags after Dabi tore them apart with those big, black claws of his.

Dabi...Where was he?

Thinking about him made you realize something. For the first time, the church no longer felt cold. It had a warm, welcoming feeling to it. Had this sensation been here all those years ago, you'd probably still be on good terms with your family.

"Are you feeling unwell? You seem pale."   

"Y-Yeah..." You looked all around the church. The pews that had been slammed into the wall, broken into pieces, were good as new. And the altar at the front, where its cloth had been carelessly thrown to the side when Dabi found you hiding, was also untouched.

"Was it just a dream?" You asked to yourself. Remembering everything the demon did to you, yet not a single part of your body felt sore. In fact, you felt better than ever. So full of energy.

"What are you talking about? Are you having night terrors again?" 

Oh shit, Father August was still here. 

"N-No! Everything's fine, father!" You reassured the older man that stood straight in front of you. "I must have sleep walked all the way here! Remember I used to do that when I was a kid? ahahaha..." 

No way you would tell him about what happened last night....If it ever happened in the first place.

He was kind enough to walk you home. To say your parents were worried was putting it lightly. They were terrified when your mother went to wake you up and found the bed empty. It was strange, watching how worried they were about you, when they never bothered to call you for a long time.

A tired sigh left your lips once you finally went inside your bedroom. It was barely morning and the whole house was already in chaos.

"Right, today we're going to see Grandma." The suitcase was pulled on top of the mattress with ease. Good thing you preferred to travel lightly. "Better get changed now."

From the small arrangement of clothes, you picked out a white sundress. Then you pulled out the hair dryer as well and turned back to the mirror so you could fix the bird nest in your head, also called hair.

When you saw th reflection in the mirror, your whole body became stiff.

There was a strange mark on your neck. A deep shade of burgundy adorned your skin in the shape of a small flame, running down all the way to the collarbone...Right in the spot where he bit you last night.

The dryer fell out of your hands with a loud clank as you stood in front of the mirror, watching this...thing on your neck with pure horror.Why didn't anyone say anything when you came in with this mark covering a good portion of your skin?!

Your thoughts were interrupted when your mother barged inside the room with a worried look on her face. And you were quick to cover the mark before she could see it.

"What happened? I heard something falling?" She looked at you in worry.

"N-Nothing! The dryer just slipped from my hands!" But she wasn't satisfied by that answer, and squinted in disdain when she saw the way you hid from her prying eyes.

"What are you hiding? Don't tell me you actually got that tattoo?!" She approached with an angry pace to take a closer look at your neck.

"I told you, it's nothing!" But she didn't listen, pulling your hand away from your neck by force. Your eyes closed shut, expecting her to start yelling just like that time you got your ears pierced again.

"Why are you grabbing your neck? Does it hurt?" 

"You can't see it?" You asked quietly. But she just gave you a look.

"See what?" 

So...they couldn't see the mark on your neck?

..........

Three weeks later, you finally came back to your precious apartment, away from your family, and that cursed church. But also away from an answer.

What happened that night? Did something even happen at all? Or was it just your brain playing tricks on you? 

Groaning in frustration, you decided to forget about everything and kept walking back home, carrying a bunch of groceries to restock the fridge. Besides, tonight was Taco Tuesday, and you were eager to start preparing your meal.

When you got inside the building's main hall, you could see the landlord talking with someone at the lobby, but their back was facing you, so at the moment, it was impossible to see their face.

The moment the old lady saw you walk inside, her face lit up with joy as she waved at you, and made a gesture to come closer.

"Good afternoon dear! How did your little visit go?" She was always a curious woman, but never meant it in a bad way. There was nobody in the apartment complex who didn't love Miss Yuki.

"Good afternoon Yuki! And well, you already know how it went. It's always the same after all..." You grumbled, not really feeling like going into detail about what happened.

Then you turned sideways to see her guest. A dark haired male just stood there, watching the interaction between the older woman and you with a lazy smile. 

He was wearing a pair of ripped, dark jeans. Black military boots, and a white T-shirt underneath a leather jacket. One of his most prominent features was those teal eyes of his.

Somehow....He seemed familiar.

"Oh how rude of me! My memory's not what it used to be!" Yuki clapped her hands together, embarrassed that she just ignored her guest in favor of talking to you. 

"This is Touya! He just moved into the apartment right next to yours! I was just about to take him to his new home, but I need to take Mochi to the vet. Would you please be a darling and show him the way for me?"  

"Ah, that naughty cat? again?" You laughed sarcastically. That cat of hers always seemed to get into trouble for something. "Don't worry Yuki, I'll take him off your hands!"

"You're such a sweetie! Now, here are your keys, Touya. Please let us know if there's anything you need help with!" She handed Touya the set of keys, and swiftly walked inside her home.

Turning back to Touya, you greeted him with a sheepish smile, ignoring the burning sensation at the side of your neck.

"So, I guess we're neighbors. Welcome to out little community. Just let me put this in my fridge and I'll give you a tour!"

"Ah, yeah. Thank you for the help." ...Even his voice was familiar.

You walked together to the second floor. On the way there, Touya mentioned how her was starting anew. Away from everything, and everyone. In a way, he was just like you.

"Well, this is my place!" You beamed, juggling with the set of keys and the bags in had. Touya had offered to help, but you refused. After you finally unlocked the door with a victorious hum, you pushed it open with your hips, walked inside and turned back to face your new neighbor.

Who's face, for some reason, became dead serious the moment you looked him in the eye.

"Please come in. I'll prepare some coffe!" As cheerful as you were. The smile slowly, slowly disappeared when you saw the way Touya was staring at you. 

There was a dangerous smirk on his face, and an all to familiar glint in his eyes...

He quickly stepped forward, and stood in front of you with a proximity, that allowed you to feel the heat of his whole body. He trapped your chin in between his fingers, and licked his lips with an evident hunger in those blue orbs.

"W-What are you doing?" The nerves were such, that you didn't notice when the bags of groceries fell from your hands, and the carton of milk spilling all over the floor, creating a puddle besides your feet.

"Remember what I told you last time?" From the corner of your eye, you could see those same horns from that night, slowly starting to come out. Your heart pounded against your chest. And the burning sensation in your neck became unbearable the moment his eyes became engulfed in black.

"I told you I'd see you again...Little one."

With those last words, your door was quickly slammed shut.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro

What is a Fairy?

I suppose they probably need some explanation, especially nowadays. Fairies (Faeries, Fay, Fey, Fae, or even Fair Folk) could be considered a type of mythical being. Some have described them as spirits, others as ghosts of the deceased, some deified ancestors, prehistoric precursors to humans, personifications of nature, pagan deities, or even angels and demons in the way of Christian traditions. Often they encompass a metaphysical aspect, being depicted as spirits or beings who transcend the physical universe and world that we know. Or given features of the Supernatural, such as magic or extrasensory perception, which allow them to violate or go beyond the laws of nature. Even sometimes Preternatural, which something abnormal or strange and explainable but still within the boundaries of the natural laws of the universe (for example I could say someone is a preternaturally good cellist, and mean that they are impossibly good beyond expectations or even belief, but I’m not saying that they are actually magical...just that their apparent abilities and how they gained them are unknown and very strange to me.) But what is a fairy? Well you already know what some of them look like. Many people might immediately picture Tinkerbell from the animated Disney feature film, or even from the original Peter Pan novel by J. M. Barrie. And they would be correct, in part. Tinkerbell is a depiction of a Pixie, a specific type of fairy. But there are lots of fairy types, I don’t actually think there’s a complete list. (I should probably try to make one at some point, but no promises.) During some points in history the label of fairy was used to mean magical beings who had a mostly human shape. Gnomes, leprechauns, goblins, pixies, dwarfs, elfs, etc etc etc. And at other points it also included non humanoid magical creatures such as Unicorns, Dragons, Kelpie, Basilisk, and more (Sometimes these were referred to as Fairy Creatures). So where did they come from? Well the funny thing is that Fairies don’t actually come from only one area or set of myths. They are a strange combination of the folklore from all over Europe (and possibly beyond) and include ideas and stories from Celtic, Scandinavian, Nordic, Germanic, French, and English Folklore and Mythology. As these stories were passed around and intermingled and changed they brought about the collective creatures we know today as the Fae or Fairies. The Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and even the Celtic Revival Movement of the 19th and 20th centuries all had their influences on the stories and ideas connected with the Fairy folk, some significantly less helpful than others. Even the Fantasy Literature Genre, with Tolkien at its forefront, has added and changed much about people’s view on these creatures. So lets talk about some basic things you’ll want to know when dealing with Fairies. The first thing you might want to remember is that many people view the Tuatha Dé Danann (Supernatural gods, goddesses, heroes, and kings of Irish Mythology) as being the source for Faeries, or at least one of the strongest influences. Celtic Folklore and culture is easily one of the most visible bits of Faerie lore that you can find these days, but there’s a lot more that starts showing up when you begin to dig. Another thing to note is that the Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and the Celtic Revival Movement had a massive influence on how people saw fairies. They would mix folklore from different areas of Europe, attempted to prove the existence of fairies through scientific means, created artistic depictions of fairies, and much more. Often they sanitized and shrunk the fairies until they were mostly harmless or relegated to the outskirts of human life as a curiosity. Which brings me to the next point. In a lot of older folklore, from all over Europe, fairy beings are often depicted as being incredibly dangerous. Kidnapping humans or human babies, causing crops to wither, water to dry up, food to rot. They could lure people in with magic into a fairy ring of mushrooms and make them dance forever or make them forget their life. Sometimes they even played with time itself. A person could dance with the fairies only to find that they’ve been gone a hundred years when they try to go home. And many beliefs have depictions of some kind of Otherworld, a world apart from our own, or layered over it like an extra dimension we are unable to perceive or directly interact with. Sometimes its a land of the dead or a hidden underground kingdom, other times is a strange and fantastical country with its own laws and ways of doing things. As these stories meshed together we got what is known as Fairyland. The land which the fairies dwell in. Though some believe they simply live on Earth, hidden in the wild, or among us. Some reoccurring ideas are often connected with fairies, though not all have stayed the same as the original lore they were born from. The idea that Faeries, for whatever reason, are unable to or will not lie. This is a very important idea because the Folk are also simultaneously depicted as deceptive. Like particularly vicious lawyers they will play with words, never quite lying, but purposefully leading you astray or tricking you into a bad deal. They will often obey an oath, promise, or deal exactly to the letter, but ignore the intent behind it in order to twist it to their own benefit or amusement. Whether or not fairies are immortal depends entirely on where you draw your folklore from. Sometimes they are immortal; deathless, not mortal. Unable to die in spite of starvation, terrible wounds, age, or anything else. They are bound to life for all time. But some stories depict the stranger Fae Folk as being Eternal. Beyond time, always having existed and always existing, sometimes cycling, sometimes directionless and boundless and everything. Some tough concepts to get your head around, but nobody really agrees which one fairies are. In some folklore they’re even depicted as mortal, same as you and I, but a lot longer lived and harder to kill. A reoccurring motif in older Folklore is the need of humans to try and ward off fairies with charms and totems. When they were not depicted as outright malicious and dangerous, sometimes being thought to cause illness and death or bring about disastrous misfortune or steal a person’s name and voice, fairies were still mischievous and valiantly unhelpful. So people had all kinds of lucky charms to protect from them: like four leaf clovers, various plants, or actions like wearing your clothes inside out to confuse them. Iron is said in many beliefs to burn them, and certain herbs they view as sacred and will refrain from touching the bearer. A few more things. Christianity plays an important part in this discussion, though many people don’t like that. In many places myths and legends were wiped out by Christianity, either intentionally or simply by the very fact that it was trying to convert people in Europe and old pagan beliefs were seen as nonsensical. But still stories persisted despite this. Many old Myths and Folkloric beliefs were recorded for posterity by Christians, and some stories were altered and we are unable to see exactly how much (Beowulf). A lot of fairy stories remained too, only Christianity painted them as fallen angels or even demons of a kind, who could be kept away from Holy Ground, or were forced to kidnap humans to pay a tithe to Hell (or be taken themselves if they couldn’t pay). So folk beliefs, though generally discouraged by the church as superstition, remained quite strong all over Europe for a very long time. The last three things you need to know. One, there are many people who still believe in Fairies, though their beliefs often vary, sometimes wildly. Witches who claim to work with them. People who believe in them through their religions (usually pagans and other non christian groups). People who claim to have encountered or been abducted by them. And many others. While I personally do not believe in Fairies (though I like to keep an open mind, just in case), I do believe that the beliefs, cultures, and and rights of these people ought to be respected. Which leads me to other mythical beings that are similar to Fairies but hail from cultures and peoples outside of Europe. It might be tempting to label some of the spirits from various Native North American Tribes or from Chinese Folklore (or many others) as fairies. Don’t do that. If Fairies are real, you have to consider that there might be other mythical beings who fall under different categories and groups. And even if they are not real, it is extremely disrespectful to the people of those cultures to take their stories, myths, beliefs, and folklore and try to mesh it in with European Folklore. (this is exactly what the Victorian and Edwardian Era were guilty of.) And finally... Some people might tell you that they know everything there is to know about Fairies. Don’t believe them. Even I, who have spent years and years studying European Faerie Folklore, find new things about them every day. I have sources I’ve found and haven’t yet had the time to look into, areas of study I’ve had to neglect. There is so much about Fairies to explore that it’s quite literally impossible for any one person to know all of it. Personally I’m doubtful that a single person can even know an eighth of it all, you can hardly imagine how much there is. And while there is a great deal of it buried on the internet, there is even more offline. Books which are out of print or have never had their contents uploaded, cultural stories passed down in various European groups which are saved from oblivion only by the oratory tradition, and the remains of all kinds of long dead or vastly changed civilizations who believed in the Fairies and tried to work with or avoid or appease them. All the misinformation and personal gnoses out there also make it a lot harder to find accurate information about traditional folklore. And that’s not even counting the multitude of inventions and ideas spawned by fictional literature surrounding fairies. There is simply too much. But of course... Since when has something being impossible ever stopped a human from trying anyway? If you’re still interested, then who am I to discourage you? Go, jump right in. There’s so much to learn about the Faerie Folk.

Crow’s Nest.

Diana sighed as she climbed the last few stairs to Devrim’s perch. The Gentlemen Sniper pulled his rifle back inside the windowsill and turned, having earlier waved to Diana he smiled at her approach. “Ah,” His warm tone brought a smile to her face, “Di, hello dear, how are you?”

“I’m alright I guess..s’been a while...huh?” There was guilt layering her tone, like a child who was admitting to a wrong--ready for a scolding.  

“Works kept you busy,” Devrim settled against the wall and his smile held, but his eyes turned downward and with it the mood lowered. “Seems as if the whole world is trying to burn around us.” He nodded to the radio on the shabby table with the teaset near by. “I’ve been keeping up on the radio chatter, you’ve been busy out toward the Tangled Shore lately?”

“Oh yeah,” Dianna removed her helmet and went to settle on the floor next to Devrim who glanced out the window. “There’s this new baddie, Xivu Arath? A hive celebrant...whatever that means...trying to corrupt Fal---Eliskni and Cabal into being Hive mind slaves. Causing a lot of trouble on the Shore and in the Dreaming City. Been working with Spider’s crew to get it cleaned up but its been weeks now.”

“A month yesterday,” Joel corrected as he appeared by Diana’s side. “I overheard Glint and Crow talking about it as we were walking away yesterday.”

“A month…” Diana repeated with weight behind her long sigh that followed. “Has it been that long already?”

“Between the constant crucible matches and vanguard operations to charge the lure, not to mention the individual hunts themselves, I’m not surprised we hadn’t realized.” Even Joel sounded exhausted, flying low until he settled in Diana’s hands as she crossed her legs and closed her eyes. “It’s been...hectic to say the least.”

“When was the last time you had any time off?” Devrim asked, raising a dark brow as he removed himself from the window completely now. Hanging his rifle on carefully placed hooks in the collapsing church to avoid accidental misfires. “You both look absolutely ragged.”

Diana hummed in thought. Her head slowly lulling from side to side before she spoke. “The Festival of the Lost?”

“Can’t really count that as time off when we were fixing the infinite forest…” Joel reminded her and she nodded.

“Soooo, before then?”

“My word,” Devrim’s shocked outburst made the tired guardian and her ghost both open their eyes and look at him. He was standing with his teapot in hand, “You’re going to need something a bit more strong than tea then to unwind.”

“You know what I want?” Diana chuckled softly, the fatigue showing through her defeated tone. “A nap. A nice, warm nap.”

“You’re more than welcome to come back to the farm,” Devrim offered, putting down his teapot and reaching for clean cups and saucers. “You could rant about anything bothering you until you can rest, or you’re free to do so after over a nice hot cup of tea.”

Diana smiled, watching the older man go through his motions to prepare his staple drink. The care he put into making it and the glance he gave her when he felt her stare. “Thanks,” She smiled back, “But,” She tapped Joel’s shell and woke the little Ghost from his quiet rest, his eye blinking open and his shell twitching in a stretch. “I think seeing Mythrax would just wind me back up again...remind me of everything going on on Europa.”

“Ah,” Devrim’s smile fell as he watched Joel take a lazy flight, hovering just above Diana’s shoulder as she climbed to her feet wearily. “Do you have somewhere else to stay then? I have no bed or blanket here, but I can offer great conversation and drink, a little light on snacks I’m afraid.”

“Actually…” Diana rubbed her head before her face and sighed, “I think there’s somewhere I want to...revisit. It’s not the Tower, but right now I’d rather avoid the tower if possible too…”

“Just seems like there's nowhere for us to go to get a rest away from everyone.” Joel admitted, his eye downcast as his shell shook side from side. “There's always someone looking for the next report, the next ship out, the next bounty to be taken…” He glanced at Diana who was lost in thought, her cyan eyes following the floorboard toward the window. When she slowly walked away to peer out Devrim’s window, Joel flew near Devrim and whispered. “She’s had a lot thrust onto her shoulders lately Devrim, I don’t know...I don’t know how to help her right now…”

“Is she alright?” Devrim asked, pretending to busy himself with cleaning his table as he waited for the water to boil.

“Physically she’s fine, she’s just so mentally worn out...A lot of old emotional wounds opened up…” Joel twitched in the air, flying a few degrees lower, “You’ve heard about Io, Mercury and Titan?”

“I had.” Devrim nodded, his face stern with thought. “She had friends on those planets didn’t she?”

“Yes, Asher Mir for one,” Joel shook his shell, “She’s still holding out hope that he’s in the Pyramidian, holding out. But no one’s heard from him...or Sloane and Vance...Then...we heard about Sagria…”

“Sagria?” Devrim whispered back, glancing over his shoulder to Diana, who was watching something out the window. “A guardian?”

“

A Ghost,” Joel corrected, “She was Osiris’ ghost...she sacrificed herself to save Osris from Xivu Arath’s influence...he’s Ghostless now...without the light...he’s taken refuge in the tower and asks Diana about how she and Crow--”

“Crow?” Devrim asked, raising a dark brow as he picked up the teapot and began pouring the tea into two cups. “Is that a guardian?”

“S-something like that…” Joel hesitated a tad too long and it drew a long and measured look from the marksman. “He’s a new guardian but...it’s part of the old emotional wounds opening up...that’s all I can say…”

“Mmhmm..” Devrim kept his stare on the little ghost who twitched and flew a few inches away.

“The less you know, the better.” Joel sighed.

“Wouldn’t happen to wear red pants...would this...Crow?” Devrim asked softly, glancing back at Diana who was still preoccupied with scanning the distance.

“You’ve seen him?!” Joel flew close to Devrim’s face, making the older man chuckle and straighten his back a bit.

“I’ve seen someone bustling around in the distance,” Devrim nodded with his head toward the direction of the dam, “He’s never come close though, and always seems to keep a hood up or a helmet on..I’ve never seen his face. Causing our girl some trouble is he?”

“He doesn’t mean to,” Joel said, “He’s new to everything and Di….she doesn’t know how to handle her feelings. He really reminds her of someone she’d rather forget, but at the same time she’s grown closer to him, and is having trouble letting go of that….resemblance.”

“Sounds messy,” Devrim picked up the cup and took a small sip to taste before nodding. “She needs a good rest, and time to herself away from everyone to let herself work through things. Is there a Hunter hideout where she might be able to take cover?”

“None that wouldn’t turn her over to Zavala to keep themselves from being called to the tower..” Joel had a hint of irritation in his voice, “We tried a few of the old spots, but some people have a sore spot for Di. Shaw hasn’t exactly warmed up to her and he’s made a name for himself in the cosmodrome. People think, that she thinks she’s too important, that she abandoned them in their greatest hour of need…And with the Hunters still without a leader...”

“Did they forget the part where the entire universe was at stake?” Devrim asked too loudly, drawing Diana’s tired attention finally from the window.

“Who knew the Cosmodrome was separate from our universe.” She had no mirth to her voice now, she seemed to shake slightly from side to side as she pushed away from the window and walked over to take the cup offered to her gingerly from Devrim. “Thanks…”

“I’m sorry that you’re dealing with so much,” Devrim put a gentle hand on Diana’s shoulder and squeezed it. A flicker in her eyes caught him off guard, was she going to cry? “I hope that the vanguard has at least given you some hefty time off to recoup after running you so ragged?”

“Hawthorne helped,” Joel said with a hint of pride, “When Diana was ready to just drop off the tower to get away from Zavala and Shaw, she spoke up and advocated for Diana to have a relief mission.”

“Tore into them did she?” Devrim chuckled warmly, “Ah, I can hear her now.”

“It was quite a sight,” Joel laughed, his shell squinting as he bobbed up, like a smile. “She wasn’t about to let Zavala just walk all over Diana.”

“M’ just too tired to fight anymore.” Diana admitted as she took a drink from the cup, taking a moment to shiver at the bitterness. “I wanna sleep for a week in a hole in the ground…” She paused…”Or...in a wall…” Her eyes widened slowly before she downed the rest of the cup, filled only half of the way before handing the cup back to Devrim. “If anyone asks,”

“I haven’t heard from you in months.” Devrim winked at her as he took her cup and replaced it on the table. “No idea where you could be. Haven't’ seen you in the EDZ in quite some time.” He turned and lifted his own teacup to her in salute, “I really should contact you via radio to come spend some time with this old man.” He could hear Diana and Joel speaking softly as he turned and sipped at his tea, trying not to listen to the quiet planning. He couldn’t help but hear.

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Joel was asking, concern filling his voice.

“Where else can we go right now? Unless you really wanna watch me dig a hole and bury ourselves.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this...but we could go to the Derlict?” Joel offered in a hushed tone, “Drifter would hide you for a while.”

“He’d also bug me to death for answers, or to get me into Gambit again…” Diana sighed heavily. Devrim kept himself turned around, studying the hand written notes from Marc laying on his desk, hidden out of direct sight behind the radio he used to listen to chatter, or talk to Suraya who was living in the Tower now. “No, I think it’ll be the one place no one, except one person would think to look…”

“Do you think he would?” Joel asked softly.

“No, his leash is too short right now. He might wonder to himself, maybe to Glint, but he won’t actually come looking. Which will give us all the time we need to rest.” Diana sounded sure of herself and her mind was made up. Wherever they were going, it was going to be a secret between them.

“It won’t be very comfortable,” Joel complained slightly.

“We can find a few ways to make it work.” Diana said a little more loudly, the time for private conversation over with. Devrim was refilling his cup, still pretending to be lost in his own little world when he felt two taps on his shoulder. He put down his cup and turned to receive the gentle hug Diana offered without thinking. “I’ll come by again soon Devrim, thank you for letting us rest and clear our head.”

“I don’t need to tell you that you are always welcome,” Devrim told her as he squeezed her, returning the hug. “But I will anyway, just so I’m sure you know. You can always come up here to hide out, and I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to.” He felt her start to pull away and he kept his hold until she leaned more heavily against him, allowing him to share her weight. “You be careful out there, hm?”

“Yes sir,” Diana’s chest vibrated with her voice, chuckling into his ear as she squeezed him back. “I’ll make sure to stop by for the dawning.” When Devrim pulled away she nodded, “I’ll remember the Shortbread cookies you love so much.”

“It pairs so well with my favorite festive tea,” Devrim sighed at the thought of such a comfort item. “It is getting around that time...isn’t it?”

“A few more weeks…” Diana nodded, “Hopefully I’ll get to feeling better before then. I’d like to go to the tower to see everyone…”

“Then you best get to it,” Devrim winked at her and grabbed a small bag from under his table, protected by a sheet that had hidden it from sight. “Here, take this, a self care package if you will.”

“Tea?” Diana laughed as she took the bag without looking at it.

“And a few biscuits and hot cocoa, some tripemines to set up a perimeter, clean water etcetera.” Devrim smiled as he poured a second cup for himself. “Little things that will help make the roughing it less...rough.”

“Thanks Devrim but shouldn’t you need this?” She asked, holding the bag up.

“Not for a while, I’m going on vacation too..of a sort. It’s Marc’s Rezzing day soon. We decided to go to Suraya in the city and spend time together. I’ll have all the comfort I need. And I can replenish my supplies.” Devrim watched as Diana nodded and looked toward the stairs. “Go on now, I won’t keep you any longer.” He turned his back and pretended to busy himself with the radio dial until a heavy baritone voice came over the waves.

“Thanks again…” Diana gave a small salute before disappearing over the ledge, not bothering with the stairs.

“It’s like they’re allergic to safety,” Devrim mused to himself, chuckling as he watched her go.

//

“Are you sure about this?” Joel asked as Diana picked her way over the rubble, careful to make sure that Devrim’s care package wouldn’t rip.

“Like I said, I’m out of ideas, unless you know of somewhere else we can go…’S not like we can go chill with Asher anymore…” She paused down the dimly lit corridor and sighed. “I miss him.”

“I know,” Joel touched his feckle to her cheek and accepted the loving caress she gave him that pinned him to her cheek gently. “I do too.”

“So this is the one place I can think of that...they won’t know to look and if they did think to look, I don’t think he’d tell.” Diana finished softly. She was outside the  little alcove now and started to go inside but hesitated.

“What's wrong?” Joel asked, blinking his yellow cat eye and watching how she hesitated. It wasn’t like her.

“I should ask permission…” She said firmly. “This is the one place that’s his and his alone...if I were just to barge in here and use it without asking? I’d be taking that away from him, I’d be just as bad as Spider. We’re not that close...in reality. He might think...I’m overstepping boundaries if I don’t ask…” The heavy silence in the air didn’t last long before she asked, “Can you patch me into a secure line to him?”

“Just a moment.” Joel busied himself with twitching, extending his shell and rotating back and forth until the sound of static washed away and a familiar voice asked.

“Who is this?”

“Glint, it’s us. It’s secure right?” Joel asked, replacing his shell to its rightful shape. Diana noticed one of his cat ears was coming untapped and tried to push it back down in place, only to knock it off and make her gasp in both shock and sadness.

“Of course!” Glint’s voice perked up, “It’s the Guardian and her Ghost!”

“You can call me Joel,” Ghost reminded him, “And Di.”

“New news on Xivu Arath or some wrathborn? A new cryptolith?” Crow’s voice came over the coms and Joel watched Diana pause in her fussing over his shell.

“No,” Diana admitted after a moment of silence. “I’ve...I’ve been given some...a reprieve…” She said slowly, remembering once what Glint had said over coms after a hunt. “But I…” She paused again and the lights inside her mouth dimmed with a sigh. “Could I...Would it bother you if I...used your...nest, for a while?”

“It’s most certainly not a nest.” Crow said a little too quickly. Diana could practically hear the flush to his blue-grey face. “But...why? I thought you would have a place in the tower in the last city?”

“I do, but not everyone understands the need for...alone time.” Diana admitted.

“About your report, could you do this run for me, we should go out tonight, could you sit in on this mission debriefing, we need someone on coms for this vanguard operation, could you help me adjust my sights,” Joel started listening off all the things that had been asked of them when they had returned to the tower the last time. “It’s like it never ends. We used to go hide out on Io when things got like this…”

“I see.” Crow interjected before silence could fall and swallow them up. “You...need a place to breathe for a while. Of course, feel free. I’m...honored that I could help you this way...Guar--”

“Di.” Diana reminded.

“Di…” Crow’s voice was soft, like he was afraid of breaking her name should he say it with too much force. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I haven’t been out there in a while and Glint’s a terrible maid.”

“It’s not my fault you keep everything you find that has a little shine to it.” Glint said playfully, hinting at his name.

“It’s not exactly comfortable either, but it works...in a pinch.” Crow continued, ignoring Glint’s jest. “Use it as long as you like.”

“Thanks,” Diana smiled and looked inside the alcove at the small collection of crow’s things. “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Crow chuckled softly, “You could have used it and I never would have known. It’s not as if I’m in and out of there a lot these days.”

“Boundaries and Respect are important.” Diana told him firmly. “Guardians and good people a like do not trample over either…” She put a hand to her head and realized how much like Quin she sounded. She shook her metal head and continued. “Want me to get you some time off?” Diana asked as she stepped through the crack that served as the door. “You deserve it as much as I do.”

“Spider wouldn’t allow--”

“Spider won’t know the difference if I tell him I need you in the EDZ to track down Hive movement. Maybe they’re trying to set up a cryptolith here? Savathun did find that piece of the Traveler where we found the new Hawkmoon.”

“Not to mention we could give you a run through on being a Lightbearer. Guardian school if you will. More tips and tricks to make you more effective for Spider.” Joel added, his shell contracting in the way that made Diana say it looked like a smile.

“Time away from Spider,” Diana said in a singsong voice, “Nice hot fires under the stars, good drinks. Stories swapped.” She flopped down on the sleeping bag Crow had left on the concrete slab and regretted it, there was still a bit of debris under it and it hurt. “R and R is just as important to Guardians as it is to non-lightbearers.” She added with a grunt.

“That’s true...I just don’t think Spider would allow it.” Crow sounded defeated, tired and annoyed.

“Well, I am not going back to work for a bit….you think about it and when you want me to, I’ll talk to Spider.” Diana stood and rolled the sleeping bag up, watching how the dust and concrete of the collapsing ceiling was leaving a layer of dust on everything.

“Spider called him.” Glint said in a hushed tone, “I think some time off and not so alone would be good for him. He’s been obsessing over these Cryptoliths. He’s so sad to see the Eliskni that was good to him turn into...wrathborn…”

“He needs time away just as much as we do,” Joel sighed.

“It would be good for him, all he does is talk about work, and when he asks about Guardian things, he feels like such a stranger to it all. I think a fellow Guardian talking to him would make it feel more real, for now its just...stories of something he thinks he doesn’t deserve..” During the pause, Joel and Diana gave a look to one another. Sadness. Fatigue. Guilt. “I’ve been called by Spider, cutting the link. You two have a good rest.”

“Glint--” Joel started to speak but then hesitated. “The line’s dead.” He rotated to see Diana removing rubble from the concrete slab and cleaning it off with her hand. “This place really is a mess...huh?”

“He’s tried to make it his own…” Diana said softly. “It reminds me...of that cave in the Cosmodrome we had when we first started out...Remember?”

“Heh.” Joel floated closer and bobbed before rolling his shell over. “You kept Hive bones until you heard about Dredgen Yor, then you dumped them all over the cliffside and wanted nothing more to do with them.”

“Got rid of the dice I whittled too.” She nodded and replaced the sleeping bag, stretching it out to find it wouldn’t fit, the slab was too short. She glanced around the tiny alcove, at all of Crow’s belongings. A sleeping bag that had holes in it. A pristine Dawning bowl. His death shroud. A hive knight sword from when he save Osiris. A table and chair. A tool chest as tall as her and tools to fill it with. 8 things. He only owned 8 things. Yet the room told so much about him.

He was a repairer. Using things left over and forgotten to serve a new purpose. “It’s almost...poetic...or.” She laughed, “Ironic, whichever you wanna look at it...I guess…”

“What is?” Joel had floated off on his own, inspecting the crack in the wall that filtered in some sunlight from a room beyond the rubble.

“He takes things that are broken or forgotten. Things people don’t think twice about because to them it's used up and gives it new life...new purpose…” She picked up the bowl and placed it on the sleeping bag. “Like a guardian...we were just empty shells until you guys came along.” She smiled at Joel who twitched in silent thought. “You found me, an empty shell. Having used up all my life and been lost to time and the elements and you gave me a purpose. You brought new life into me and told me what I could do to help those around me.” She picked up his death shroud and frowned. “Uldren was a cold hearted bastard of a person.” Her grip tightened on the cloth before she sighed heavily.

“He paid his price. Blood for blood. Eye for an Eye. The debt for Cayde was settled. I know his tapes said he’d be…” She started folding the shroud gently. “Crow was a shell that was tossed away. People were trying to forget...or avoid remembering for the time. Including myself...And Glint gave him new life and purpose. He’s a guardian now. He’s not who he was before. And now he takes things Spider tries to throw away or has forgotten about and makes them into new things.” When the shroud was folded into the shape of a flag, she placed it into the bowl and busied herself cleaning off the slab where it had been placed haphazardly. “He’s just like a Ghost that way. A repairman. An artist..” She recalled the art form he had mentioned before when she saw his nest the first time. “He mentioned an artform with precious metals...do you know what it's called?”

“I hadn’t when he first mentioned it, but I talked to Zavala’s ghost and he knew what it was called, apparently it's called Kintsugi, or kintsukuroi, it’s a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.  It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.” He paused for a moment and flew a little lower, “Oh, I see what you mean.”

Diana straightened up the room in silence for a while. Dusting everything with her hands as best she could and being as gentle as possible. It didn’t take her long to clean up the room, tossing out the debris into the hall. She looked around and realized it wasn’t cleaning she wanted to do.

“I wanna do something nice for him.” She said out loud, throwing out a fist sized piece of concrete into the hall. “And I don’t mean dusting.” Joel was flying around the room and scanning the area, inspecting the walls and ceiling.

“He doesn’t have a lot does he?” he asked as he came down to her height. “We could get a few things for him.”

“Yeah..spruce the place up a bit...he deserves better than this but…” She glanced at the shroud sticking up from the bowl where she had placed it. “Baby steps.”

“What do you think he would like?” Joel asked.

“Anything is better than this…” she glanced at the mop bucket in the corner, and cringed. “We could get him a sturdy cot to sleep on. A better sleeping bag…” She looked back to his area and tilted her head, “Another table, a chair...we could clear these slabs out.” She kicked at the one he had been using for a bed. “Hang that sword up.” She pointed to the sword as it was propped up against the wall, waiting to topple over. “And a heater…”

“A heater?” Joel asked, spinning back to watch her as she nodded.

“It’ll be snowing soon. If he’s gonna get time off and come stay, then he’s gonna need heat...and some food that won’t spoil…” Her faceplates shifted to show irritation. “The boy doesn’t even have the basic necessities to live on his own. He won’t be under Spider’s four thumbs forever.”

“You think he’s going to let Crow go eventually?” Joel didn’t sound convinced, but when Diana settled her cyan eyes on him, he knew that look. He’d seen it before the battle against Crota...Oryx...Gaul and the darkness. It was what he called her ‘try me’ look.

“Oh he will. And we’re getting that bomb outta Glint too.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Glint doesn’t deserve that treatment, and neither does Crow. The boys are literally as pure as new fallen snow, and Crow’s as green as Venus.”

“I remember when Leland used to say the same about you,” Joel offered softly, flying close to her chest, his sign he wanted to be held in her hands. She obliged him, cradling him gently and stroking his feckle lovingly.

“I’m not gonna comment on that,” she chuckled and planted a kiss on her Ghost’s shell. Going to sit on the sleeping bag. “I guess this means we’re going back to the city after all.”

“What are we gonna tell people who ask what we’re doing?” Joel twitched his shell so he was looking up at Di from her hands she stared longingly at the Dawning bowl.

“That we’re helping out a kinderguardian. They’re new and scared to come to the city. Or that I’m literally burying myself in a hole and making a fuck off bunker so people will leave me alone for once.” She stopped and blinked, “By the light, I sound like Osris now.”

“I like the second one better,” Joel laughed, “It sounds more like you than Osiris.”

Both of them laughed, their voices bouncing off the three and a half walls until it sounded like it would drown all their sorrows. They hadn’t laughed like that in a while. It made Diana sad to realize this. She tried not to look at it, but it was like a living thing staring at her. The death shroud. One of the triangle corners was peeking up from the bowl and taunting her until she stared at it.

“I’m not...weird am I?” She asked Joel, still staring at the white cloth.

“Is that a question you want me to answer honestly, or be serious?” Joel asked with mirth still in his voice.

“No, I mean…” Diana’s tone made Joel twitch in her hands, bringing her attention to him. “I know I didn’t remember anything, not a thing when you brought me back. But you said I’d been dead a long time...I’ve never…” She trailed off and looked toward the floor. “I’ve never run into anyone who recognized me before. But Uldren...he…” She sighed. “He killed dad...I know I said Crow was different and he IS but…” she made a clicking noise. “Sometimes when it gets quiet, and I see him, I can still SEE Uldren there. Does that make me a bad person?” She looked to Joel sadly. “Am I a horrible person because I sometimes still see him inside someone who's new? If Crow didn’t have the same meatsuit...if he’d been changed into an Exo like me when he was first brought back...I woulda never known….I wouldn’t be...questioning myself like this.” She looked to the shroud again. “He’d just be a new guardian. A fellow exo. A nice guy...But I find myself wanting to reach out to him. Be...more than kind to him. To be someone for him and then that moment happens when I don’t see Crow, I see…and then I feel like I’m betraying Dad’s memory by being chummy with the meatsuit that killed my leader...”

“I could tell,” Joel admitted softly, speaking in barely a whisper, as if afraid the truth would cause the ground to swallow them up. “When you two are having a good talk and it gets quiet, I see the way you look at him. It’s kindness and then fear, mixed with guilt.” He twitched again and the eye blinked. The other ear was starting to come loose and Diana peeled it off with a gentle hand. “You’re trying so hard to not hold him accountable for a crime you know Crow didn’t commit. But it’s still the same face. It’s still the same hand.” he blinked again, “It’s a situation I don’t think any other guardian has ever had to face like this before.” Only a heartbeat passed before he added. “I don’t think it makes you a bad person, I think you’re struggling with a situation that no one else has ever had to be in before and you’re doing a lot better than others who have seen his face.” He flew up from her hands and hovered a little ways from her face.

“You loved Cayde like a father, and he was taken from you by someone you didn’t particularly care for when you knew him. Now that person is no more, but their body is still up walking around with someone new inside...sorta. It’s like that pottery thing, he has his scars. His past is part of him, but he has a new life and a new outlook.” he tilted his shell toward the ground. “Uldren hated Guardians, he tried to make our life hell when we had to deal with the awoken. But,” he titled his shell upward and squinched himself into a smile, “I’ve seen Crow absolutely light up when you walk in a room. He’s excited to see you, to work with you. If that’s not proof he’s totally different then I dunno what would be.”

When she didn’t respond he bonked her on the forehead with his feckle and made her blink at him in bewilderment. “Others have outright killed Crow when they saw his face. You didn’t.”

“I tried…” She put a hand on the spot where he hit her. “If Quin hadn’t stopped me...I would have put a bullet in him.”

“Are you glad she stopped you?” Joel asked firmly.

“Yes?” she sounded unsure, when Joel tightened his shell around him she felt like he was glaring at her so she repeated with conviction. “....Yes. I am.”

“Would you put a bullet in him now?” Joel’s voice was hard, he was trying to test her resolve. He already knew he answer, he just needed her to know it.

“No, absolutely not, I’d...” She paused and remembered her fight with Hunter-1, they still hadn’t spoken since they introduced Crow to him. When he tried to murder Crow, even after learning he was a guardian and Uldren no more. Quin had ushered Crow to safety while Diana wrestled with the fellow Exo. He hadn’t looked at her the same since. On Wrathborn hunts he wouldn’t watch her back anymore, and he would ignore her when she spoke to him. “I’d fight those who would try...”

“Then you’re already leaps and bounds ahead of others.” Joel told her with a flip. “And the fact you want to give him what he needs to survive on his own, until he can be accepted as Crow and not as Uldren, shows you have compassion for him.” He tilted his shell halfway, like he was being coy. “And do not think for one millisecond I haven’t seen you smile at him with that same look you used to give Drifter either missy.”

“I. Give. No. Looks.” Diana’s voice was low, gravely, she was willing to die on this hill.

“And I wasn’t born in the Light.” Joel gave a small hummpf sound before flying out of the crack, forcing Diana to follow along behind him if she wanted to argue.