Dabi And Tomura (poly Or Separately) Are All About That Forced Intimacy, And Will Get It From Their Darling

Am I the only one obsessed with daddy yanderes having a darling who turns into a total subby good boy/girl when their yandere starts to praise them? Like not even with sex per say, just with things in general.

Tw: heavy dubcon, dd/lg like dynamics

Like Daddy Aizawa trying you get you to drink some water for him. He knows you’re just trying to be defiant out an crankiness which he is sure will eventually go away, so he is patient with you. 

He pulls you onto his lap, easily able to keep you there with just one arm wrapped around your waist. Putting an glass up to your lips, he tells you, “be good for me and take a drink.”

You scoff and jerk your head away, crossing your arms with an pout which only makes Aizawa gush inside from how adorable you are. Of course, he doesn’t let you know this (you might think it’s okay to be a brat if he did), so he sets the glass down on the coffee table while letting out an sigh before putting all his attention onto you.

“Don’t you wanna be good for daddy?” He purrs into your ear, gently running his hand up and down your thigh in a comforting manner. “I know you hate it, but you have to drink it. I can’t let my kitten get sick because I’m neglecting their needs.”

You start to squirm, his soft and deep voice lulling you into a state of security, but you keep up the act. Which only makes him lay the sweet affection on thick. He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a kiss and forces a hand between your thighs to cup your sex. You whimper and try prying his hand away yet you find yourself kissing back back, conflicted with everything due to you wanting to run while at the same time wanting to be touched.

Just when your walls have broken apart and you’re humping his hand like a needy slut, he pulls away. Keeping an arm around your shoulders and leaning over to grab the glass once more, bringing it up to your panting mouth.

“Drink.” You grab ahold of the glass with shaky hands, taking a few sips just like he asked. “There you go, I’m so proud of my good kitten, doing exactly what I asked you to do. Such a pretty baby for daddy. Now can you drink a little more for me? I want to see at least half gone, okay?”

Flirtation Dictation (Professor Aizawa x Fem College Student)

This is my  1000 follower celebration fic! Anons frequently tell me they are reading my fics during class, and well, I don’t think Professor Aizawa would appreciate that. ;) 

Parts of this were a bit awkward to write considering my style, but I’m pretty happy with it. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you all so, so much for your support. (Also just a side note Aizawa-sensei would never break the code of ethics *is yanked away by my friends*)

Warning: Professor x Student, spanking, humiliation kink, semi-public sex, unprotected sex. Milk is cum like once. Listen I tried to get all the Aizawa tropes.

Shouta Aizawa was far from boring. Well, at least to you.

He often told your class tales of valiant heroes taking on the world’s worst villains, and usually coming out on top. Sometimes he’d regale you with stories of his own heroic past, but being such a humble man, those were few and far between. 

Despite your sincere interest, you couldn’t help drifting off at times during his lectures. The depth and cadence of his voice made your eyelids feel heavy, eventually calling them to close as the words became your lullaby.  

Oftentimes you kept yourself awake by simply admiring his undeniably attractive frame. The man was beyond gorgeous. Silky ebony locks pulled back in a loose bun, long, lean body stood proudly as he spoke or scribbled concepts on the whiteboard. Sometimes you’d get lucky and steal a peek at his toned lower abdomen as he wrote on the whiteboard, relishing in the sinful chill the voyeuristic act gave you. No matter what he did, Shouta Aizawa exuding pure confidence and competence, something you certainly valued.

On this day you occupied your tired mind by reading. You’d covered the material on the previous night, and for you, it was simply a review. The tactic definitely paid off, but there was one problem, the content of this particular story had your thighs shifting together, hot arousal pooling between your legs. During an extra spicy excerpt, you couldn’t stop a quiet moan from slipping through your lips.

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Brought to Heel

….Okay guys, here it is. Honest to GOD I do not feel good about this one. Kinda feel like Christ himself is frowning at me. Sadly, this isn’t even as far down as my head goes when it comes to this type of stuff. But hey, yall asked for it, and here it is. It really isn’t my best work, I didn’t put my heart and soul into it, but it’s fucking smut dude, you’re not here for literary genius.

PLEASE use caution. DO NOT ignore the tags. There is no tenderness in this story. And DO NOT come and bitch at me if you open it up and it offends you. I tag my shit for a reason. If this isn’t your bag of monkeys, blacklist it and walk away. Do not show up on my blog with your hate and shit. I don’t care. DLDR bro DLDR. 

I’ve taken every precaution I can to prevent this from showing up on someone’s feed who isn’t interested including tagging the warnings and using a read more line break to cut off the explicit bits, but for some reason it doesn’t always work. IF YOU SEE THIS AND DO NOT VIBE, SCROLL AND SCROLL FAST. Also might wanna block me or some shit, that helps too.

Rating: fucking R, dude. R all the way. NC17 if you will.

Warnings: Seriously explicit noncon, degredation, implied noncon slavery, Shig is a mean ass BITCH, sadism, threats of death, sexual content, slightly flirtatious Dabi (not for long lmao), crying, intimidation, etc look I’m going to hell, you get the point. 

Working with the League of Villains was a more draining job than you initially understood you’d be accepting. 

It was commonplace for you to work your fingers to the bone for your clients, an endless procession of watching, noting, thieving, and mapping. Quite literally working your ass off as you scouted from a distance until your legs fell numb and your joints protested, letting your feet prickle to a painful tingle as you ran back to your new home base to report your findings. Normally you didn’t mind, as it was the basis for your entire skill set after all, and you were damn good at what you did. If you planned out a siege, robbery, coup or crash, it happened. No questions, no variables. Only results.

Originally, you had been ecstatic to accept his contract. He needed a specialist, you needed a job, and the pay he was offering was borderline too good to be true. Yet, reporting to someone like Shigaraki Tomura has a way of sucking the passion out of you. The longer you worked for him, the more you understood why the League was offering such a substantial pay raise. The man was fucking insufferable.

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“that character is problematic” i am sick and twisted. next

folie á deux

↠  summary: Ever since you were little, you had the dream to travel the world, but that was quickly stripped away when you were forced to marry a secluded writer by the name of Aizawa Shouta that lived in a dreary manor. The manor was somber in color scheme — a complete contrast to your lively home, but you knew the walls carried something far darker than their vantablack hue.

↠  word count: 16,724

↠ pairing: aizawa shouta x reader

↠ genre/warnings: angst, horror, gothic literature au, yandere themes, arranged/forced marriage, gore, blood, nudity, suggestive themes

↠ a/n: happy early spoopy season!! so this used to be a bts fic (rip) but i really loved this story so i didn’t want it to go to waste. this is a horror story so please read with caution and i hope you enjoy reading!!

↠ tagging: @lord-explosion-baku @my-bad-writing-requested-edition @out-of-my-way-extras

The world around you was a vibrant yellow and your cheeks were pink. You basked in the afterglow of laughter, the sun beaming down on your face. The wheat field around you was golden and the strands tickled your skin. Your white dress dragged across the dirt, staining it brown. Mud squished between your bare toes, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything was serene as you stood in the middle of ginger field that stretched out for miles. A breathless smile spread on your lips, mouth parted, greedily taking in air. Maybe you shouldn’t have run as far and quick as you did, but you felt free. The white mansion with crimson rooftops was a mere speck in the distance. You close one eye and bring your pointer finger and thumb up, squishing the house between them. Repeating this several times, it brought a smile to your face.

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not now kitten, daddy has to write strange self indulgent fan fiction.

Yandere Mr Compress (Part 2!)

Didn’t expect to get this done so quickly but I had a lot of time today after an exam. :D

—————————————————————————————————-

You’ve been stuck in this room for what you assume has been a week now. You’ve practically memorized the patterns on the comforter and tacky wallpaper adorning this “prison”. Atsuhiro is home a lot, so he is able to offer you regular meals, though you hadn’t deigned to try it until what you think was the third day, when you were too hungry to even say no. You remember how his face lit up when you finally agreed. He had stopped tying you to the bed at that point, a reward for being obedient, you suppose. He did, however, keep the bedroom door locked from the outside whenever he wasn’t around.

You wondered where exactly it was that he went almost every evening, the hours were too short for a job, but then how was he able to afford this apartment? Tacky as it was, the decor was certainly expensive looking. You had tried to ask him once, but he simply winked and said something about a magician never revealing his secrets, which seemed more than a little creepy at the time. 

When he was home, he would spend almost all of his time with you, leaving only to cook meals or let you sleep. You were relieved that he hadn’t tried to touch you yet, but you didn’t know how long that would last. He didn’t kidnap you just for your company, surely. When you first asked him what he wanted with you, he had shaken his head and replied “I want only to be with the woman I love and adore.” 

Today was a little different than usual, he had left early in the morning and hadn’t been home for hours. You weren’t exactly worried for his safety, moreso for your own wellbeing. If he didn’t come home, you would be stuck in this awful room for who knows how long. You had already tried breaking out, but neither the door nor the window could be opened and you had nothing to pick a lock with, not that you even knew how to anyway. At some point, someone would notice you were gone, right? Your friends or family? Maybe they were already looking for you? Someone, surely, would have had to see him carry you off from the alley.

You were broken out of your panicked thoughts when you heard the door to the apartment open. You waited, but it took a few minutes before the bedroom door opened. As he walked in, you could tell he had changed clothes. He looked exhausted, but his shirt and pants were fresh and ironed. You wondered what he had been doing that required a change…

“How are you doing today, my love?” he asked. “I do apologize for leaving you alone all day, I had some business to attend to.” You could sense the fatigue in his voice.

“What kind of business?” you questioned, though you already knew he wouldn’t tell you the answer.

“Oh, no need to worry yourself about that. How about some dinner? I’m sure I can cook something up.”

You had an idea. “What if… I cooked something for us tonight?” You put on your sweetest smile and tried to appeal to his exhaustion. You saw his face light up, just a little, and that was all the encouragement you needed. This could work. “You just seem so tired, and I haven’t been able to cook in so long…”

He thought about it for a moment. “Well… I suppose you could use a change of scenery. And I would love to taste something created by you.”

You smiled, knowing that this could be your chance to finally leave this place. You could cook while he rested on the couch and sneak out the front door when he wasn’t looking. He held out a gloved hand and you took it, immediately shocked by the gentleness you felt in his touch.

You could feel your anticipation as he opened the door, leading you out into the kitchen. The rest of the apartment was equally as gaudy as the bedroom. Gold accented lamps and tchotchkes rested on every possible surface. What was interesting, however, was the distinct lack of photographs. You had expected to get at least a glimpse of what he looked like under the balaclava, but that didn’t seem to be a possibility. 

The kitchen was the only truly functional room in the apartment, with stainless steel appliances and a simple granite counter. He showed you around the kitchen and in the refrigerator with his usual showmanship. The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked and you figure you could make some baked fish with a side salad and some miso soup. You begin to pull out pans, expecting Atsuhiro to go rest on the couch, but to your dismay he sits at the bar to watch you. 

“Do you not want to relax on the couch?” you ask hesitantly.

“Oh, but how could I when the real show is in here?” You can practically see the twinkle of adoration in his eyes. “You look so radiant in my kitchen.”

You spin around and continue cooking. This is not going as planned. He’s still watching your every move. But you continue on with your dishes, pretending to be unbothered. He’ll have to get up at some point. He has to.

Finally, as you’re nearing the finished product, he stands up.

“Please excuse me while I wash up, I will return to set the table for us,” he smiles. It’s a genuine smile that almost makes you rethink your plan. Almost. He walks away and you immediately drop everything and head for the door. 

You hesitate before reaching for the knob, and it costs you. A glove covers your hand. “Leaving before dinner?”

───A TOUCH OF LIGHTNING, AN OUNCE OF TRUTH.

Summary: cornered on a mission with Obi-Wan, a familiar face greets himself as both of your tormentors—revealing to you the one secret Obi-Wan has never uttered.

TW: mentions of torture (reader) and injury.

ONESHOT. 4,654 WORDS.

Ventilations are great for ventilating, but not so great for shimmying through, especially ones as tightly closed as these ones, and especially not when a whole other body is pressed to your side and trying to shimmy along with you. Your body springs back when his elbow slams into your side and his hand flies over your mouth when he can feel the yelp about to bubble out, surprisingly fast given the limited space. He’s hunched over like a pretzel in this new position; his knee pressed into your leg, your palm flat against his ribcage.

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Sweeter Than Heaven - Hosea x Reader

Hello Hosea fans!! This ended up WAY longer than I expected, but I've had the main man on my mind and wanted to give him the attention he deserves. Enjoy! It's on ao3 if you prefer.

Summary: Your crush on Hosea renders you incapable of interacting with him. He takes offence and tries to get to the bottom of what your issue is.

Word count: 8,283

Content warnings: Smut, 18+

Hosea Matthews took pride in being a decent man. He’d made his mistakes throughout his life but he was conscientious enough to see, admit, and learn from them. It was something he’d practised with age, his current stature far away from the cocky outlaw he’d been in his youth. 

He didn’t chastise himself for it, he’d seen it in all the men of the gang once upon a time. They too, some more than others, learnt and grew even if it was often in a misguided direction which he tried to correct. If he could do something good in this world, he could at least pass on the things he knew so that maybe those he thought highly of didn’t have to learn the hard way as he did. 

The fruits of his labour blossomed in recent years; a whole orchard of his legacy as clear as day solely by the pedestal the gang put him on. He was the one who most approached for advice, he was the one they asked when they wanted to learn something new, and he was the one who could provide a new angle on situations and see things often overlooked by others. Yes, Hosea did not struggle to gain the trust of those around him. 

However, it seemed his skills as an approachable wise old man (a description that took some time warming to) were being tested in the form of a new recruit to the gang. 

Most newbies go down one of two paths; jump in head first and make the loudest impression they can, or quietly watch from the sidelines and allow their actions to speak for them. Except this one did neither, not really. 

Honestly, you had him stumped. 

You were easy-going and someone everyone appeared to like, joining in on the banter when the drinks flowed but not being afraid to make suggestions where necessary. But you didn’t force your personality on anyone, and the overall opinion of the members of camp was a positive one. Approachable. Friendly. Smart. Even self-assured. 

It wasn’t that Hosea disagreed with these statements; it was just that he hadn’t had any chance to experience them himself. From afar, sure. He could see how one could describe you as all those things. But up close, when he tried to strike up a conversation – you had little or nothing to say other than the bare minimum for politeness. 

It’d finally happened, he supposed. A decent character who simply didn’t like him all that much. It unnerved him, seeing you laugh along with others only to quieten down when he came over. Was it the authority he held? Was it his age? He couldn’t be sure, but if he couldn’t keep up his reputation, he would at least find out the reason behind it. 

The wind was strong on that particular day. Strong enough that it whipped your face and blew your hair into disarray if you dared sit out in it for more than five minutes. So, when Tilly beckoned you into her tent with Karen and Mary-Beth, you didn’t hesitate in heading in and getting comfy beside them. 

“You’re sure Grimshaw won’t mind?” you asked, righting your shirt that’d gone askew thanks to the blustery air. 

“Grimshaw,” Karen elongated the word with distaste, “minds everything. I’d like to see her sew clothes when they’re being blown across the damn camp, though.” 

“No,” Tilly interjected before you could respond, “she won’t mind. Ain’t no way we could work in this, and Grimshaw knows that.” 

“Whatever you say,” Karen mumbled, pulling one of the folded blankets over herself. 

“You think it’ll last long?” you asked, flicking your gaze upwards. 

“Why, girl, you bored of us already?” 

“No,” you snickered. “But we could do with a way to pass the time.” 

The four of you took to thinking, and you thought maybe you could all sing a few songs – 

“I know,” Mary-Beth smiled, highlighting the hint of blush on the apples of her cheeks. “We could share our recent... Fancies.” 

“Oh, trust you to suggest romance,” Karen scoffed. 

“Come on, it’s the perfect opportunity! Winds so strong our words will stay locked up in this tent, and certainly won’t travel to any unwanted ears.” 

“Fine,” Karen acquiesced reluctantly. “Suppose I’ll start. Sean was asking me about this thing the other day, something like –” 

“No,” Tilly stopped her flow before it could begin, “I heard enough of you and Sean to last me a lifetime.” 

At Mary-Beth’s knowing chuckle, Karen rolled her eyes. “Well, then suit yourself. Actually, I’d like to hear if our newest friend has eyes for anyone.” 

Three expectant gazes landed on you, and you straightened up at the sudden attention. You shrugged. “I don’t know, there isn’t really anyone who’s caught my eye.” 

“Oh please,” Mary-Beth tutted. “Surely there’s someone you at least find attractive.” 

Attractive? Sure. The camp had its fair share of attractive people, but you knew that wasn’t what they were asking, not really. But you were lying, someone had in fact caught your eye. Only it was someone they’d never expect. 

It was more than just a pondering thought, too. It was the kind of attraction that made you forget your words, breathing cease, and limbs sit rigid and unnatural in their sockets.  

If you were being honest, you’d surprised yourself too. Any of the young, handsome outlaws you’d interacted with would’ve been an understandable choice, that way you could reason why you were drawn to one more than the other. Perhaps you’d even have liked more than one of them, weighing up their various traits to describe the winner. 

But none of them interested you at all.  

Sure, you could appreciate their looks, their sense of humour, or their work ethic, but there wasn’t that feeling that turned your tummy over and rendered your thoughts entirely theirs. In turn, you’d found it easy to talk to them, not even considering the possibility of dating and so having nothing to be concerned about.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been spared from the plight of having a crush. It almost made it worse that it was unexpected, you not having the slightest clue how to deal with it and feeling like nothing short of a blundering child every time you got to interact with him.  

God damn Hosea Matthews. 

You didn’t know what to make of it at first. When your mind went quiet the first time he spoke to you in that voice of his, you spent the rest of the day worrying you were coming down with something. It took a few days, until one evening when a bottle of whisky in hand ignited some more-than inappropriate thoughts about the man. Ever since, you couldn’t even look at him and expected this ridiculous feeling to go away in no time at all. 

Alas, weeks passed and there you were; crushing on him more with every day. What were you mean to do? How could you go about something like that? Would it be as easy as initiating a drunken kiss or harmless flirting? This man was as smart as they come and likely much less reckless than the younger men, surely you couldn’t make such an immature advance on him.  

You found ignoring him to be the easiest way to deal with it in the end. He scared you, not in an intimidating way but purely the fact that he knew so much whereas you knew so little. No, you supposed you weren’t scared of him; just scared of the fool you’d appear to be if you interacted with him. That wasn’t a problem provided you kept your distance. 

It was getting concerning, though you stuck hard with the idea that it would go away at some point. Right? 

You shrugged at the girls, concluding that the worse thing to do would be to admit it to them. “Sorry,” you laughed apologetically, “I hate to be such a bore.” 

The girls soon forgot, the discussion turning to one of the others but you couldn’t keep your mind away from him. 

―――

Thankfully, the wind died down some days later and allowed you to sit out with a book in the fresh afternoon air once your chores were finished. 

Hosea saw his opportunity. 

He walked over and stood to the side of you, though a pace behind so you didn’t see him in your peripheral right away. “Afternoon, miss. I need you for a job, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me.” 

Silence. 

Hosea cleared his throat, watching your unchanged expression and posture for a moment. “Miss?” he asked, a little louder than before. 

Your head rose from your book and towards him, brows pulling together in confusion. “Uh, me?” 

“Yes,” he smiled easily, “you.” 

Blinking owlishly at him, your nerves began to race your chest and you did your best job of not focusing on them. Why did he want you to go? This was all still new to you, you were far less capable than the other, more experienced girls. Perhaps it was a bit of practice? Unless you’d been slacking and he was subtly making you pull your weight? Either way, both options would mean Hosea would be exposed to you in close proximity alone and see your skills first-hand, providing you with ample opportunity to fuck up – 

“Miss,” he half-sighed, reminding you he was expecting a response and you realised you’d remained still since he’d clarified. Even when not talking, apparently you could still make a fool of yourself.  

“Sorry,” you said instinctively, attempting to relax your shoulders to diffuse the tension your body had accumulated. “Right now?” 

“Well, yes,” he pulled out his pocket watch and flicked it open. “In about half an hour.” 

“Can I ask what the job is?” 

Hosea hid the concern from his smile, wondering why on earth you felt as though that wasn’t appropriate knowledge for you to know. “It’s just a bit of investigating, really. I don’t much fancy sitting alone in the saloon while I do so.” 

Finally, he’d said the right thing, and that appeared to relax you somewhat. You could do that, right? A couple of hours, the option of a drink to calm your nerves, and just listen to whoever the mark was. A starter job for you to dip your feet in the choppy waters of a life of crime. “Sure,” you shrugged casually, and Hosea accepted that was the best he’d get out of you for now. He told you to meet him by the horses when it was time. 

You weren’t proud of how much time you spent picking an outfit, acting like a teenager as though this man would even look twice at you. Wearing one of your favourite shirts and a simple skirt, you initially pinned some of your hair back but promptly returned it to its usual state at the worry that you were trying too hard. So, there you were half an hour later, mounting up on your horse and riding out with Hosea. 

On the ride over to the saloon, he’d decided on letting you reach out to him. The more he pushed conversation the more he expected you’d stray from it, and in his experience, many people aren’t comfortable with silence and that can be enough of a motivation in itself for striking up a conversation. Not you, though.  

It was your assumption that he was deep in thought, planning for the upcoming job and so you left him to his thoughts; not that you’d know what to say anyway. 

There was still time, though, and he didn’t concern himself with it too much. Once the two of you arrived, you got seated at the bar and he bought a bottle of beer for each of you. 

As he glanced around the room, it occurred to you that you didn’t have the slightest clue what this job was for and if anything was expected of you. You cleared your throat before quietly asking, “is there anything I’m supposed to do?” 

“Just follow my lead,” he said, and you relaxed and tensed simultaneously, happy that he trusted you enough to need no preparation but worried that you’d prove that to not be the case. Something in his tone was enough for you to almost believe him and thus gain confidence in yourself, it was an odd feeling and you briefly puzzled over how he managed to put you at ease with only four words. 

It wasn’t long before Hosea made you aware of the man when he entered, leaning up against the bar and that was when he started making conversation with you. Small talk, about the weather, how your horse was, what book you were reading, etc. It made sense, the pair of you could hardly sit there in silence and the knowledge that Hosea was listening more to the man behind him that to you made it much easier to talk to him. 

Then Hosea turned, politely apologising that he couldn’t help but overhear the man and your heartrate quickened for a moment at the fear of your cover being blown. But the man was fine with it, engaging in conversation about some fancy repeaters he was selling and Hosea feigned his interest as a gun enthusiast. How he had so much knowledge you’d never know, and it was knowledge you’d never learn since you couldn’t focus on the conversation, instead observing and listening to Hosea as he spoke. 

It was a marvel to see him in his element, and you watched on with adoration at his cool persona while his even cooler words gradually eased his victim and gained their trust. When the man turned away for you both to follow, offering to show him the merchandise, Hosea caught your eye and the slightest of smiles quirked over his mouth – enough of a response that didn’t suggest any suspicious motives had the man caught it. Hosea followed him and you followed a few paces behind, trying to squash your smile from growing further; this was rather fun.  

You waited outside while the sky turned darker and Hosea went into the small homestead close to town. It was easier this way, you wouldn’t have to linger or stand there awkwardly while they spoke. A rather useless part in the operation if you did say so yourself, but if Hosea wanted anything more from you, he’d have made that known. 

He was laughing and joking with the man when they came outside, clapping a hand on his shoulder and you smiled to yourself at how talented he was; it was like he was a different person entirely. You walked beside him once he’d said his goodbyes. 

“Get what you need?” you asked. 

Hosea nodded, promptly returning to his usual self and noticing how guarded you still were. “Indeed,” he said quietly, “should be a nice clean robbery for the boys.” 

You didn’t need to ask more, not wanting to pry into business that didn’t concern you and sighed in relief internally at managing to not ruin anything now that it was over. “Back to camp now, then?” 

“Why the rush? I say we go back to that saloon. Their whisky is rather good,” he responded promptly. 

Goddamnit. “I suppose.” 

Hosea’s smile hid his true feelings, bordering on frustration with your lackadaisical manner. He’d been nice enough, hadn’t he? What more did you want? He wasn’t a fan of resorting to drink to loosen someone's lips, it felt lazy and immoral, but you didn’t leave him with any other choice. The true goal of this job was still yet to be accomplished. 

And so there you were, back at the bar and he’d ordered some shots of whiskey with the excuse of celebrating a successful recon. You went along with it, more small talk ensuing and you relaxed once again as the whisky began to take its desired effect.  

Of course, Hosea noticed it. The way your brow softened and shoulders dropped to the way they were with seemingly everyone else but him soothed his growing concern with his plan. It was working. 

As he was telling you a story, the atmosphere shifted. You were sure it was only felt by you, or perhaps it was the drink, but you began to think there was more to this than he was letting on. He’d specifically chosen you to come out on the job when truthfully you didn’t need to be here, he’d suggested getting a drink once it was finished, and he’d spent the last forty-five minutes asking you questions to get to know you, all the while listening with intent... did he want you? You observed him as he spoke, the way he seemed to be searching your face for something, the brief touches on your arm, and the faint sparkle in his eye. 

He stopped mid-sentence, the change on your face distracting him since you’d gone from happy to concerned in a matter of seconds. “Is something the matter, miss?” 

Of course. He’d never make a move on you, how could he? If it went wrong that was your trust gone, his image tarnished as the trustworthy leader. You had to be the one to do it, didn’t you? 

It was easy, really. You didn’t think when you leaned in, pressing your lips to his and they were soft, and he smelled good - 

Hosea pulled away, his hand hovering between your torsos to keep the distance with a confused look on his face. Oh god. Before you could speak, apologising for being such an idiot and more than ready to blame it on alcohol, he relaxed once again.  

“Miss,” he said softly. “That isn’t how we do things here.” 

You nodded profusely, of course it wasn’t, he was a grown man, charming, charismatic, smart, and you just threw yourself at his feet because he showed you a bit of kindness and interest. How ridiculous you must look. “I’m so sorry, I mustn't have been thinking -” 

“Now,” he laughed, at ease and doing his best to keep the panic he saw growing in your eyes from manifesting, “don’t you apologise! I can see why you’d think that was the way of the gang, but truly it is not. You are here on merit alone, and I apologise if I have given any indication that more was expected of you.” 

The gang? Merit? Expected? What? Perhaps the drink was a good enough excuse, nothing made sense anymore and you frowned at him. “I -” you started, unsure of how to proceed but the alcohol thinned out your filter for the questions that were on your mind. “I don’t know what the gang has to do with it. I - there are... others, right?” 

Now it was Hosea’s turn to be confused. Other what? Were the other girls performing the task of pleasing the men and told you that was the norm? This was getting more serious, that was something he certainly wouldn’t tolerate. “Do you have an example of who?” 

“Well, there’s John and Abigail, of course, then Karen with Sean, though I know they’re not -” 

The cogs clicked into place, though Hosea still couldn’t make sense of what he thought he was hearing. “Hold on,” he said, placing his hand over yours that rested on the bar and you looked at it for a moment, how nice your hands looked together along with how gentle his touch was. “You... actually want this?” 

Hosea dipped his chin, hazel eyes piercing yours and you worked on a swallow. If nothing else had made sense tonight, his touch and gaze more than made up for it. Now that felt right. You didn’t have it in you to lie and you surrendered, offering him a nod in the hope that he would figure out what was going on. 

A brief flash of shock washed over him but a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips. He was honoured, and suddenly your behaviour made sense. Now he knew, not that he’d ever have figured it out without the push, it was blindingly obvious. The way you always seemed to be looking away from him, growing more nervous with every step he made closer to you, and clamming up whenever he made conversation. It was a crush, simple as that. 

A crush on him, no less. It’d been a while since he’d had to identify one of those aimed his way, but he wasn’t about to let it slip away in a hurry. To top it off, it came from you. He’d thought you beautiful when you joined up, he wasn’t about to deny that, and while he hadn’t had much experience with you, he’d soon grown fond of watching you from a distance. 

“I’m flattered,” he began with, searching his mind for how to court a woman and the expectant and worried look in your eye almost made him melt. How sweet. He inched closer, fondly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and suppressing his laugh at how seemed to get even more nervous. As amusing as it was, he didn’t want you to feel that way. “Taken aback, sure. A pretty young thing like you takin’ an interest in an old conman? It’s almost comical.” 

You expected it much less than he did, but god both of his hands were on you and he actually looked happy, so you started to laugh. He was right, it was comical but no less true. “Perhaps it is.” 

Every inch of Hosea’s face relaxed fondly, your laugh ringing angelically in his ear and there was only one thing he wanted to do now. He leaned in once again but promptly stopped himself, watching your expression grow concerned once more. “I think I’d prefer to do this in a more private setting.” 

Reminding yourself not to be too uncool, you nodded calmly in agreement. 

“There’s a hotel nearby, we could get to know each other there?” he caught himself quickly, realising how this must all sound. “Not - not like that. Just, whatever you're comfortable with.” 

You’d done it. You’d made Hosea Matthews nervous. It seemed like an impossible feat, but he looked positively boyish with that apprehension in his eye and it was downright cute. You might not have his quick way with words, but you clearly had something. You slipped your hand into his, and pushed off the bar, smirking at him and following you out those doors was one of the easiest things he’d ever done. 

For all that boost of confidence was, it didn’t want to stick around. Your nerves made themselves known once again as Hosea opened the small room to the homely hotel, but you grasped to them desperately as you walked through the door he held open for you. It clicked shut, and you turned; you were really alone in a hotel room with him. 

He was hesitant, restricting himself as though he wasn’t entirely trusting in your desire to be with him. It made you want him even more though, walking the dark alleys of your mind where you wondered what he was like when he didn’t hinder himself. Unfiltered, unbounded Hosea was something you’d been longing to see. You’d waited long enough, anyway. 

Hosea was about to say something, make conversation and get to know you when you took a step forward and met his lips once more as though it’d been the only thought in your head since you practically skipped out of the saloon.  

His lips were delightfully soft, whisky residue sitting nicely on the plush flesh and it was addicting. You ran your hands around his lean waist until your frame pressed into his. 

This truly hadn’t been Hosea’s intention with getting the room, he was a gentleman after all, but you were stealing away all his logical thoughts. Besides, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and gladly returned your affections. 

Attempting to keep it slow, for now, you repeatedly kissed each other and once again you guessed he would only do what you were comfortable with. Well, screw that. In your fantasies, he’d taken control and taken what he wanted, while still keeping that desire to feed your pleasure, and you supposed it was down to you to let him know you were okay with it. You didn’t know if this would ever even happen again, but it wasn’t in your jurisdiction to question it. You gently grazed his bottom lip, pulling it between your two rows of teeth and Hosea’s breath stilled in his chest. 

He broke the contact, brow narrowing with the tilt of his head as though he was looking at you in a completely new light. A warmth grew in his eyes that you’d never seen before, one not borne from adoration – but lust. He moved his head forward, his lips stopping an inch from your ear until his shallow breaths landed on your skin. It didn’t make you shiver, but his following words that were laced with a dark undertone certainly did. 

“I didn’t have you down as such a troublemaker.” 

You gulped, an involuntary gasp leaving you as a hand snaked to your flank, gripping you with a firmness you wouldn’t have expected from him, and you looked at him all doe-eyed when he moved his head back to catch your gaze. 

“What’s the matter, dearest?” your heart thumped at the sound of the endearment as it purred through his lips, “going all quiet on me, now?” 

After a beat in your almost-paralysed state of mind and body, you realised he’d asked you a question and you nodded dumbly. How quickly he’d turned that round, immediately showing you who was in charge and promptly reminding you of the fact. More than anything you wished you could match his silken words, but even you knew better than to try and then subsequently ruin the mood. This was what you’d thought about for weeks, fantasising about his voice in your ear and his hands on your body while your fingers slipped between your wanting folds. He smirked, a brash confidence radiating from him that contrasted the gentle kiss he proceeded to place on your cheekbone. 

“That just won’t do,” he murmured against your skin, giving up his fight against his desires. “But the night is young. Plenty of time for me to wrench some noises out of you, yet.” 

Your next breath was a quiet whimper, your eyes falling shut as goosebumps grew all over your body. Now it all made sense, this man didn’t just know the right words to say, but he knew exactly how and when to say them. No wonder he’d conned so many people of their precious valuables and cash in his time, you were about ready to turn out your pockets and give him everything you owned.  

With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see him pressing his lips together to compose himself at the sight of you unravelling before him. He liked what he saw and what he heard, so Hosea decided he’d be greedy for once. He wanted more. “Hm, yes. That’s what I’m looking for.” 

Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed the widening of his pupils as his desire grew from within. “Hosea,” you breathed. 

“Hm?” he asked casually, though inside he was thinking of how his name sounded coming out of your mouth like that, more magnificent than any grand symphony.  

You just waited for more, and he smiled proudly.  

“Tell me what the matter is,” he brushed a hand over your hair and you couldn’t pick out whether he was teasing or comforting you. 

“God,” you started, arousal taking over your thoughts, “I want you. I really want you.” 

Hosea hadn’t expected you to be quite so bold, but he couldn’t ignore your signs any longer. You’d shown him and told him, and the only thing you seemed to be drunk on was lust. It’d be almost rude of him to turn away your advances. “Very well, then.” 

The hand placed loving on your head pulled your face to his, and he kissed you far unlike the way he’d kissed you previously. His lips led yours, firm and unyielding as they moved. You melted into it, glad for his other hand on your form to hold you upright. Sufficiently happy with your pliancy, the hand on your head trailed down your back, urging you even closer until he rested a palm on your behind, not hesitating in squeezing the soft flesh. You gasped, and he took the opportunity of your open mouth to slide his tongue inside. 

You promptly mobilised, allowing him in and circling your tongue around his, the taste of his spit something you’d been wanting to indulge in for a while. A faint hint of peppermint passed over once you’d soaked up any leftover taste of whisky he had to offer, and you brought your hands to his chest to grip at the fabric of his waistcoat. A wanting sound left him and his tongue retreated, pressing his forehead to yours while you both caught your breaths. 

Breathing wasn’t something you cared for right now, though you reminded yourself not to rush this, but he was right there and you innocently shifted your stance, brushing your thigh against his crotch and oh - 

He shook his head at you minimally, pulling away to get a look at the inquisitive desire that’d taken over your features. “One thing you should know,” he stated. “I take my time with my work.” 

“So, I’m work now?” 

Hosea’s face softened with a fond smile and he chuckled. “A piece of work,” he mused, “yes. That’s exactly what I think you are.” 

You huffed, unaware of your natural growing confidence and comfort with the man in such a short space of time. His hands found your hips, and you thought he was pushing you away until your thighs met the side of the bed and you obediently sat, putting you at a rather nice height and you took full advantage to look at his cock straining through his pants. 

A chuckle from above preluded Hosea nudging your legs apart with his foot against yours and you shifted back as he leaned down, his knee planted between your thighs while his other remained on the floor. One hand made its way up your body, expertly avoiding your breast and stopping to grip your chin. He studied you, endless possibilities playing out in his head and it excited him profusely. It was tough to decide on where to start with your waiting body beneath him, but his first goal was to make you come. He needed to know what you sounded like when you released, what you looked like, and most importantly – what you tasted like. 

The kiss he placed on your nose was far sweeter than anything else he planned to do to you that night. Then he glanced down, disappointed that you were still clothed, an inconvenient barrier, and you noticed the look grow on his face. 

“Everything alright?” you asked timidly, hoping you hadn’t come across too strong or he’d begun to regret pursuing this.  

“No,” he said shortly and you pouted. “You’re wearing too many clothes for my liking.” 

“Oh,” you smirked, fingers reaching to the buttons on your shirt but he stopped the path by holding your wrists. 

“Ah, ah. This is a present I didn’t expect to be opening tonight, and if it’s quite alright with you I’d like to unwrap it myself.” 

You blushed, quickly moving your hands away and the pleased, hungry look in his eye made something burn deep in your core as he drank in the sight of you. 

Those hands of his were something you’d thought about many times, wondering exactly what other talents his slender fingers were capable of. They made light work of your buttons, your shirt opening to slip to the sides and reveal your breasts to him.  

Hosea sighed painfully, his cock twitching in delight at seeing you exposed. “Lord above,” he hummed, conceding that God must exist – how else was something as heavenly as you created? He ran his palm to the underside of one of your breasts, gently kneading it and wanting nothing more than to experience them in all their glory. He moved down an inch and then hesitated, flicking his gaze up to your anticipation-filled expression. “This alright?” 

The soft tone counteracted the dark one that’d otherwise taken over his voice, and it was a comfort to know that your enjoyment and happiness were still his top priority. Your nod in response was urgent, rolling your shoulders back into the mattress in a futile attempt to get him closer to your sensitive spot and he couldn’t resist cracking a smile. 

“Alright girl,” he chuckled, “I’ve got you.” 

With that, his mouth came down onto your nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth and you groaned at the warm wetness on your skin, small jolts of pleasure shooting through you each time he sucked in. His mouth came off and his tongue took over while his other hand fondled your left-out nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. He ran his tongue around your areola a few times before short flicks of his tongue greeted your bud, now hard and straining to maximise the sensation.  

After kissing the flesh of your breast, he moved over to the other side and nuzzled the inner side of it with his nose. A peck on your nipple followed before he sucked that one in, and you expected his fingers to move over to the other side but instead, they trailed downwards, the back of his knuckles softly grazing over your centre. 

You whined low in your throat, watching him indulge with closed eyes while continuing to tease you down below. When you rolled your hips into his touch he met your gaze, the sight of you wanting and desperate almost enough to make him finish in his pants right there and then. He held off, unsure exactly how far this would go but knowing he had no plans of ending it any time soon.  

“You can,” you took a breath, “unwrap those too if you’d like.” 

A breath of a laugh came from his nose as he planted kisses over your breasts before stopping between them. “It’d be my pleasure.” 

“Trust me, pleasures all mine,” you responded dreamily and that smile of his made another appearance and he tilted his head at you. 

At your quizzical brow, he placed a kiss on your sternum before resting his chin there. “You’re funny,” he complimented adoringly. 

You tutted, rolling your hips into his now-still hand and he nodded his recollection of his previous ministrations.  

“My apologies,” he hummed, chaste kisses placed in a neat line down your stomach and you admired his multi-tasking ability while he swiftly undid your skirt.  

He moved off you to stand and you willingly lifted your hips for him to pull the rest of your clothing off. You were half-tempted to question why he was still fully clothed, but having someone so infatuated with you was a dream you didn’t want to interrupt. Plus, there’d be time for that yet if it was something he was comfortable with. 

Speaking of, you realised the view you'd presented to him and he raised his brows while looking lovingly between your thighs, and you instinctively closed them out of embarrassment but he brought a hand to your knee to part them once again, his gaze not leaving your flushed cunt. “So pretty. Why would you want to hide something so pretty?” 

You pressed your lips together, basking in the shower of affection that felt so natural coming from him. Like he meant every word, and he wasn’t just trying to make you feel good about yourself so he could have his way.  

“Come on, now,” he stroked his hand up your thigh while kneeling on the floor and the image of his face between your legs was instantly burned into your memory as one of the most delightful sights you’d ever seen. “Where’s that wily minx from earlier? This right here -” he gazed back at your most private part, “is one of the most wonderful things on this planet.” 

As you sighed gratefully, he brought his index finger into his mouth though you didn’t think it was necessary with how drenched you were. His spit grew cool fast, and you jolted slightly when it met the top of your slit, tracing a line down while he watched the pleasure blossom on your face, peaking when he brushed over your clit and you whined. He smiled to himself. “What a perfect sight.” 

Your head that’d dropped back tilted up in time to catch his fond expression before he dropped his attention to what you presented to him. He watched the tip of his finger as it slowly manoeuvred around your entrance to collect your slick, and while he was tempted to lick it off, he held back and decided he’d rather taste you directly from the source. 

Hosea watched intently as his finger entered you, appreciating the flutter of your walls as he pushed in up to the knuckle and gently slid back out. At no resistance from you, quite the opposite, in fact, he repeated the motion again, then a third time until his finger was completely sheathed inside you. The thought of him filling you further fleeted over your mind and you moaned softly at the teasing sensation. 

“More, Hosea, please,” you begged politely and he allowed himself a last look at the tight expression on your face before moving forward, simultaneously pushing a second finger inside and licking a long stripe up your slit. 

A gasp of pleasure accompanied your back arching off the bed, and the temptation to touch himself grew tough to ignore, but he managed. He ran his tongue between your soaked folds while he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your entrance. Twisting them around slightly to ensure you were stretched, should the need for that arise, he revelled in the taste of your pussy that ground up into his mouth. You tasted delightful and he began lapping at your clit, making your toes curl while pleas of his name spilled out of your mouth.  

Your dreams and dirty thoughts had done him no favours, this was far better than you imagined and a brief amusement passed over you at the thought of how silver that tongue really was. It proceeded to lick up all the juice you had to offer until Hosea grew greedy and wanted more. He wanted you to come in his mouth, on his fingers and he sucked on your clit, the sensation buzzing through your body as he did a pulsing motion with his lips. Continuing to fuck you with his fingers, you didn’t know which way to move your hips since every direction provided more pleasure, and it built up and you weakly tried to warn him, panting “I’m -” until your breathing paused while your body released over him, thighs tensing around his head and Hosea mused that he could quite happily suffocate here between your thighs.  

It felt like it lasted a small eternity, the orgasm flowing out of you in waves as Hosea helped coax it, and you finally relaxed back onto the bed, blinking up at the ceiling at the stars that peppered your vision. 

“Goddamn delicious,” you heard Hosea say, not having it in you to respond or even laugh, but you felt his fingers leave you and he crawled up your body. 

“Happy?” 

“I’m past happy, Hosea. I’m -” you didn’t know what to say, how to describe what you were feeling and you willed him up with your hands gripping his collar so you could kiss him lazily. The taste of yourself on his tongue was enough to ramp you up again but he moved to roll off you. “Where are you going?” 

“We don’t need to rush,” he soothed, thumb stroking your stomach. 

“But -” you protested, you wanted more and you wanted to feel him. “I want to.” 

“Really?” he asked in disbelief. “You don’t need to, dear. I’m happy to wait.” 

“Do you want to?” you asked and he laughed, clearly just not trying to pressure you. Plus, his hard cock pressing into your leg was a dead giveaway. “Okay, because I really want to. I need to. I might die if we don’t.” 

He barked a laugh, taking your hand in his and kissing at your knuckles, the sheen of your slick passing over to your skin. “No, you won’t die.” 

“I will,” you insisted. 

“Well,” he shifted to stand between your draped legs hanging off the bed, his hands starting to undo his belt to pull it free and to the floor. The action of him smirking down at you while he did so was enough to drive you insane. “We don’t want that now, do we.” 

With that, he pushed his pants down and put a hand on either side of your hips and pulled you towards him, his cock springing up and just inches away from where you needed it. His calloused palms ran up to your knees, gently spreading them while you stared at his cock in disbelief that you were actually seeing it and once again your imagination had failed you.  

“Like what you see?” he teased, puffing his chest out slightly in pride. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, wishing you could describe him the way he’d described you but you didn’t think they’d invented those words yet. After realising you were in somewhat of an infatuated trance, you sat up and met his gaze, eyes blown wide with lust but still a promise of trust held in them. “This is – indescribable.” 

“I’ll take that,” he laughed softly, petting your head and you went to kiss his chest but were met with the fabric of his waistcoat.  

“Can I take this off?” you asked, fingertips fiddling with a button in anticipation. 

“If you’d like.” 

“I would like,” you said decidedly, half of his buttons already undone and you glanced up in questioning when you reached his shirt, making quick work of that too and marvelling at the exposed lean chest presented to you, dusted with light hairs and faint scars. 

Hosea shrugged off the garments and your eyes darted over his form, more beautiful than you’d pictured but your attention was soon grabbed by the leaking head of his cock. You debated putting your mouth around it, but with how insistently it stood to attention, you shifted back, patting the bed for him to join you. 

He didn’t question it, accommodating your request and you gently manoeuvred his shoulders to persuade him to lie back, not missing the excited glint in his eyes as you straddled him. With his cock sitting comfortably on his abdomen, you rolled your hips over it and coated him with your abundance of wetness. He groaned in bliss, head dropping back to the pillow and hands harshly gripping your thighs to anchor himself. He suspected it would do no good since he was grounding himself to a real-life angel that would only send him further up into the clouds. He didn’t care, either. 

The pressure of his shaft against your sensitive clit caused your walls to throb with need, your whole body begging to be filled by what Hosea had to offer. Your palms met the back of his hands, brushing up his forearms and to his shoulders until you could plant your hands on either side of his head. “Shit,” he whispered, lost in a haze of desire and the sight of your face above him, eyes filled with want and lips still plump from earlier while your hair fell down towards him was enough to bring a grown man to his knees, and he thanked the stars he was already laying down. He cupped your jaw and you leaned into it before moving your face to his and kissing his lips.  

Hosea kissed you back, soft and tender as he reached a hand between your torsos to find his cock and you met him halfway for his tip to press against your entrance. The kiss broke and the two of you gazed at each other, both wanting to watch the reaction of him finally being inside you. But you both missed it, pure bliss taking over as he pushed in and you had to close your eyes at the delightful stretch. He did too, your walls constricting his length knocking the air clean from his lungs. 

The pair of you stilled, once your crotch nestled into his hips, getting used to the feel of each other and committing every sensation to memory. You reopened your eyes to find his still shut as he dragged his mind away from thinking of how good it felt to avoid finishing prematurely. After planting a kiss on each cheek, he hummed in response and met your gaze. 

“You feel perfect,” he remarked, hand brushing up your flank, “you are perfect.” 

You shook your head, kissing his lips again. “You are.” 

He shunted a laugh, deciding now might be the worse time to argue over such a thing. You silently agreed and moved your hips to drag yourself back off his length. His hips twitched while he released a pleasured sigh, and you promptly lowered again to commence your motion of fucking down onto him.  

With each roll of your hips, your orgasm climbed back up and you enjoyed altering the pace and feeling him in every possible way. The man himself panted beneath you, fingers now weak where they rested on your hips instead of gripping at the flesh, informing you that whatever you doing was just what he wanted. 

“That’s it, that’s it sweetheart,” he praised, and as was the case in normal society, Hosea’s praise was expertly timed to ensure maximum effect and meaning. Seeking his approval was something everyone did, even if it was subconscious, and that was no less the case when in the bedroom. 

His forehead shone with a layer of sweat; brows pulled together in concentration as he watched his cock disappear into you every time your hips came down. 

The plush spot inside your walls grew, you realised as the head of Hosea’s cock brushing over it with each thrust become more of a heightened sensation. Your limbs grew weak and you sat back, Hosea taking note of your response and deciding it was his turn to make the effort. He fucked up into you, reaching deep within your walls and hitting that spot harder each time. You whined, desperately finding something to cling to and with your head dropped back one of his hands slipped into yours. You squeezed as your abdomen tensed, doing a good job of hovering above him to provide room enough for him to thrust upwards. Your cunt clenched around him, bringing a hand to fondle your breast and Hosea watched the show intently, eyes watering with the effort it took not to come at the sight. But you were close, your high-pitched moans told him that much and briefly hoped the room next door wasn’t occupied. 

Your legs tensed and you dropped your head forward, hands splayed on Hosea’s chest as your fingernails dug into his skin, one last thrust from him was all it took for the band in you to snap and you let out a silent moan in relief, no more energy available for anything other than coming right on his cock. 

Hosea bit his tongue, waiting until you’d taken a couple of breaths and pulled out. Even in your haze, you know what this meant and you gripped your hand around his cock, soon feeling warm spurts rope across your chest and stomach while a choked-out whimper came from the man underneath you. 

Both of you spend a moment suspended before returning to your bodies, and in your exhaustion, you wavered forward slightly but stopped yourself with a hand on the bed. Hosea caught your gaze, a fucked-out expression on his face and pulled you in to lay on his chest. Neither of you cared much about the mix of spend between you, and you lay your head on his chest to hear the thumping of his heart start to return to rest. 

He drew light circles on the small of your back, a gentle breath skimming your shoulder with each out-breath he took, each one quieter than the last. 

A small piece of clarity returned to you, and the stark realisation of what any of this could mean. What would it be like to date someone in the gang - Hosea, no less? Would you even be dating him, or was this a one-time thing? “Hosea,” you began, sitting up and finding him looking back at you like he was waiting for you to say something. He shook his head, holding your forearms in each hand and tugging you back down to him once again. You obliged, the reminder that you’re safe in his arms being more than enough for you to relax. 

“Shh,” Hosea soothed you, brushing his hand down your back. “We can leave all that for the morning. Unless you want to go back to camp now?” 

You shook your head fervently. “No, I -” 

“Good,” he interrupted with a smug smile. “For now, I just want you to stay here and lay with me.” 

So you did. 

When Adam bit the apple he did it because he trusted Eve. Because he loved her. Adam bit into the apple because the woman he loved told him to, no matter what God said. No matter the rules of heaven. What’s heaven to a woman’s love anyway? What’s God to your wife? The first sins of humanity, were trusting others. Eve trusted a snake, Adam trusted Eve, and I trust you. Maybe that’s a sin, just like the first couple. Maybe everyone’s right about us and we’re sinners and we offend God. But like I said, what’s God to a woman’s love anyway? What has heaven got that I can’t find sitting next to you on a cool autumn morning?