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#local girl loses her mind
hajihiko · 11 months
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Pride month 🏳️‍🌈 bi-poly King and Queen 👑
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mangoisms · 10 months
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OKAY here they are... my thoughts on atsv. more thoughts i mean. in numerical order for. no reason in particular. as usual spoilers for the movie!!! ok here we go under the cut because this got REALLY long LMAOOOOO
1. miles never realizing why gwen was on earth 1610 and it never really being addressed. or rather - he let it slip past him until it really mattered. not blaming her (mostly) just. something i noticed, especially since they never discussed why she was there and also never really discussed the implication of her being there to monitor spot. idk my thoughts on That are not particularly articulate but There Is Something There. For Me.
2. ok once again about inspector singh. except this time about the implications of gwen being alerted about an 'incoming canon event.' like first of all that gwen had to Be Okay (or perhaps resigned?) with knowing that pavitr would suffer because of that and still holding back. not her fault because i can absolutely see how jess and miguel would take advantage of her in a vulnerable moment (like when her own dad pointed a gun at her and was willing to actually arrest her) and guilt her into thinking it’s Okay. especially because it’s for a friend. and on that thought. what about pavitr?? did he know??? did they tell him?? because if he was part of it… shouldn’t he know??? like if that's their Whole Thing. maintaining canon, patching up alleged holes in the universe... you know what i mean?
3. when miguel is trying to make his case for miles to let his dad die and he points to what happened in pavitr’s dimension. quantum collapse i think they called it? it brings me back to the thing of like. correlation ≠ causation???? Because presumably the only universe/dimension to collapse was miguel’s when he. you know. Replaced A Dead Man. and then it didn’t happen again. or that's what i assume. and i know the next question there is, well, then how could he get everyone onboard with this canon stuff? i think the collapse of miguel's universe in tandem with them realizing that their lives (the spiders' lives i mean) inextricably intertwine and repeat, so to speak, helped make the case of 'canon' being so important.
but my whole point about That is... how do they really know that pavitr’s dimension is going to unravel because of what miles did by saving inspector singh and not just because of what spot did? becuase they said he was dimension-hopping to places with alchemax/particle colliders but we never really see what happens to the other particle colliders that spot uses but presumably (it would benefit my theory so i’m biased) he just used them as go-points to gain spots and to keep moving? and then here, he levels up so to speak, right? which is why it exploded? and THAT’S why the dimension is unraveling? ALL IM SAYING IS. they don’t actually know. i think.
4. not a lot going on here but i continue to be astonished at how all of it comes back to these adults seemingly failing these kids. jess (and miguel i guess) were looking out for gwen and were in fact reluctant to take her on but at the first sign of a mistake, they're turning on her! or rather, unable to stop themselves from throwing her mistake into her face. you know??? and dgmw she made a mistake but i also think they maybe could've. uh. counseled her on everything going on with her dad instead of. doing all that. because it was ultimately going to culminate in her going to see miles. but of course we need it for the sake of the story but i still think their treatment of her is just so harsh and i know!!! she made mistakes!!!! i was definitely annoyed with her!!! but like. you know??
and then miles too. like. i talked about it before but it's just so bleak. how miguel has genuinely convinced all these people that the tragedies that seemingly mark a spiders' life are unavoidable and that even with foreknowledge of it, should still happen. and that miles has to stand to the side and just. let it happen. moreover the way miguel like genuinely blames miles for what happened and how he became the anomaly and thus, the reason his dad is going to die, like it really really really feels like there was a whole lot of resentment on miguel's side, probably combining that with the fact that miles does not want to listen to him and will not listen to him. but then peter b too! miles expects him to back him up, expects gwen to back him up, but they don't and he's left all alone. not to mention his repeated insistences against them belittling him as a kid - which he is but it's obviously used against him. like oh he's just a kid. he doesn't know better. of course he's wrong for pointing out the obvious flaws in miguel's thought process - literal algorithm - on 'canon' and the spider-verse, he's just a kid. and no he isn't entirely justified in wanting to save his dad, like it's some childish ideal, right, because the canon is what matters the most. when in all actuality!!!!! that's his dad.
(i said not a lot going on here and i lied. sorry LMAO)
5. also during the train scene when miles first glitches after his day pass comes off (the first or second time? one of the times), he glitches to his 14 y/o self when he was wearing the spider costume he got from the store ☹️
6. ALSO. their strength. it's always interesting in comics, particularly the spiders, i think, that their strength fluctuates, so one day they might be able to hold up an entire building and the next, they're getting beat up by like. Some Guy. and yeah you can say it's adrenaline but i also just think it's like, comic mechanics? which is Fine. this isn't a complaint but i kinda feel we see it in atsv? like we had gwen, miguel, and jess’ combined strength to stop the helicopter in the beginning and they were visibly straining. maybe that was just because of how fast the helicopter was coming down but still, when you compare it to later on, when you have just gwen and hobie more or less holding up an entire chunk of the alchemax building.... it's interesting. and i mean, yeah, they weren't able to hold it up but. You know????
i think that's it. i really want to own this movie. there is just so much to it. it's so good. oh god
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aphrogeneias · 7 months
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 — lingerie
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: dry humping. jealous!eddie (blink and you'll miss it).
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"Are you gonna do that for me, one day?"
Standing at the back of the crowd while you watched a local band perform, you and Eddie shared a laugh watching what was going down on stage. The crowd whooped and hollered as a girl in the front row threw her red lace panties on stage. 
The frontman was sort of a heartthrob of the local underground metal scene, used to that sort of attention — but in your, not at all biased, opinion he had nothing on the guitarist of Corroded Coffin, the boy throwing his arm around your shoulder.
"In your dreams, pervert."
You rolled your eyes, but nothing in your tone suggested disgust. Quite the opposite, as Eddie smiled, all sharp teeth and soft simples, the dichotomies of the Munson boy never ceasing to amuse you. He smacked a loud kiss to your cheek, and turned his attention back to the stage, still holding you to his side. You rested your head on his shoulder, and kept that scene in mind.
Later that month, Corroded Coffin played in that same venue.
They were over the moon about it, obsessing over details and rehearsals, showing up extra early for soundcheck, losing sleep over playing for a larger, unfamiliar crowd. Eddie, especially, was losing his mind on the day of, which in turn drove you crazy — the ever dutiful girlfriend of an emerging rockstar, playing your part in keeping his head in place.
You'd promised Eddie that if he got up there and not let his nerves get the best of him, you'd have a surprise ready for him.
The surprise couldn't wait for the end of the show, though.
You were right at the front row, where you usually stood even though Eddie always worried you would get hurt, or get accidentally dragged into a mosh pit, or hit by a crowdsurfer. None of those concerns were unfounded, but you wouldn't rather be anywhere else.
Not where you couldn't see him. Bare arms flexing while he shredded on his guitar, sweat flying off his damp hair as he headbanged, possessed with divine madness. Your own rock god, meeting your eyes and winking at you before entertaining the crowd who was just as mesmerized by his stage presence.
Looking around to see if you'd get caught, you found no one was really paying attention to you. Quickly, you bent down, and just as the song headed to an end, slid your panties down and out of your legs. You were wearing Eddie's favorite pair — dark green lace, leaving little to the imagination.
As soon as he looked at you, between songs, you threw them at him. He caught it in the air, wide eyes not quite believing what he's seeing — your eyes meet halfway, and all you did was smile. Sticky sweet, an offering of devotion. You blew him a kiss, and not looking back, made your way through the screaming crowd, away from the stage.
He caught you backstage, on his way to the dressing room.
You barely had time to greet him. Looking back at it, it was silly to think you'd have time to. Eddie caught you by the arm and led you to the nearest empty room, pressing you against the closed door. The room was dark, but you could see his eyes glinting in the low light.
His hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Do you know how hard it is to hide a boner in these jeans?"
Despite the grip he had on you, you giggled. "Oh, I know. Been there a few times."
"You're the worst." He joked through his teeth, fondness shining through his dark eyes. He leaned in, biting your cheek, leaving a trail of spit with his tongue to soothe it. "I'm gonna fucking ruin you."
Eddie kissed you like a man starved, stealing your breath away. You clung to him as he slid his thigh between your open ones, thick denim coming in contact with your bare pussy. His large hands made their way down your waist, to your hips, his hungry kisses never faltering.
Moans leave your lips right into his, making a wet mess on his pants, arching your chest into his whilst his rhythm didn't relent, the drag of your clit on the rough fabric, over and over, bringing you to the edge way too quickly.
He nosed your cheek as you clinged to his shoulders, moving his mouth to ear. "They were all looking at you, you know?" Eddie's voice was thick with desire, "They were all staring at my baby. The most beautiful girl in this fucking place, and she had such a sweet little gift for me." His leg moved under you, and you undulated your hips, seeking your release, guided by his voice, "All for me, because you're mine. It's me you're going home with, aren't you, sweetheart?"
You nodded frantically. "Mhm. With you, baby. Always you."
Your toes curled on the floor, and your body tensed all over. You could feel yourself make a mess on his jeans, leaking more and more as you reached your peak.
"Yeah, that's right. Come for me, baby. Fucking drench me."
Eddie kissed your forehead, the top of your hair, the side of your face, as you came down from your orgasm. As you caught your breath, learning against the door, he let go of you. You didn't have the strenght to ask, all you could do was watch him kneel before you, and take your panties out of his back pocket.
He delicately helped you back in them, one leg at a time. After securing them in place, he placed a kiss on each of your still trembling thighs, and lifted himself back to his full height again.
"Keep these wet for me, okay?" A kiss to your chin, a thumb on your cheek. "Want them to keep smelling like you."
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dsybouquet · 5 months
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braindead about ceo! ellie who goes out with her managers for drinks after a day in the office. the first buttons of her white shirt open and the rest of her suit a bit losely, letting go of the work environment to enjoy herself.
after a drink, she notices you behind the counter, serving people, mixing drinks. something about you was so mesmerising.. she just couldn’t look away.
slowly she excused herself from her colleagues and walked over to the point of the counter where you were polishing glasses. she placed her glass on the counter, resting her arm next to it.
“mind refilling?”
she asked, causing you to look up and face her. a smirk painted on her lips as her green eyes met yours in the dimmed light of the bar.
“sure!”
you answered as kind as ever, smiling at the woman in front of you. you turned around to reach the liquor shelf, taking the whiskey down. ellies eyes fell on your short skirt, which in the front was covered by your apron.
you refilled her glass, asking if she needs anything else.
“what’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?”
her tattooed hand reaching for the glass of whiskey in front of her.
“trying to keep her head above the water while going to university.”
you laughed, throwing a dish towel over your shoulder.
“and what’s a woman like you doing here?”
ellies smirk got wider, she loved the attitude. and you loved the fact that you knew you’d get good tips from that.
“university? what are you studying?”
“psychology”
you smiled, leaning against the counter. you push a strand of hair behind your ear and took a sip from your bottle. ellie hardly met someone who could hold eye contact as well as you can, shes almost the one wanting to look away.
“a pretty psychology student working in a bar like this? this is not up your alley.”
her voice was quiet, but loud enough for you to hear.
“i have to get by somehow. and after all, the pay is good, the tips even better.”
oh ellie could see why you get tipped well. engaging in conversations, having the pretty privilege and being smart too.
“excuse me for a second.”
you said, walking over to serve one of your regulars his usual beer, having a quick chit chat while doing so. ellie didn’t like how the man looked at you. lust drunken eyes while drinking his beer.
of course, you just looked too good, you were so kind too. she watched while you talked to him, analysing your posture. as a psychology student, you for sure knew how to talk and present yourself to the different people on front of you.
when you turned to face her again, you caught her staring. you smiled, thinking to yourself how an woman this attractive was so intrigued by you.
you eyed her. her tattooed hand, from which you wondered how far up her arm the tattoo was going. the suit and the - by now - unorganised shirt underneath. the way too expensive watch and rings. her eyes and freckles and the auburn hair, which was halfway put in a loose bun.
she was oddly beautiful.
“sorry, had to serve a local.”
you smiled, leaning back over the counter to talk to ellie.
“What’s your name, dear?”
the way she asked for your name made your knees weak.
“______. What’s yours?”
“Ellie.”
you kept the conversation going until you had to close the bar. in between you served your locals, you served new clients but you always returned to ellie. there was just something about her. something so special that you didn’t even question why you were talking to her all night long in between running around.
tired as the clock strikes 4 am, you printed her bill, still smiling and talking with the woman so amazing that your psychology brain couldn’t handle it.
“alright, here’s your bill! we’re closing.”
you put it in front of her, smiling slightly before you turned around to put some glasses in the drawer.
when you looked back to where ellie was, she was gone. only leaving a 200$ note on the plate with the bill and her number written with a pen - text me xx written behind it.
part 2 is out now !! find it right here !
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princesssmars · 8 days
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sweet✰honey✰buckin
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a rodeo!abby x reader.
its a hot spring in the south and rodeo season is here. your hunt for a new fling leads you to an up-and-coming hotshot bull rider with an aversion to groupies. maybe you can change her mind.
wc : 2.509
contains : fxf relationship. barely attempted country slang. fluff. smut. oral and penetrative sex (r!receiving). nicknames (baby, darlin', a single bunny).
a/n : yeah guess who just listened to cowboy carter. idk why i posted about this before writing a single word but i didn't procrastinate this time yall clap it up and enjoy.
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if you think about it, this was really all dolly partons' fault.
you could still picture the first time you saw her, the grainy recording on your grandmother's television, the gentle melodies from the blonde bombshell wrapping around you like a warm hug. you'd only been exposed to the south for a few weeks, and you already knew who you wanted your role model to be.
and the buckle bunny stuff also wasn't your fault! you were gorgeous, as people so loved to remind you at every twist and turn. and maybe you used your looks to your advantage sometimes. the first time was when you batted your eyelashes to make a boy do your project a day before it was due in junior year. he was... good-looking, you supposed. smart enough to be on the chess team, so he would do.
so you went to a little party with your friends that night. a spacious house, nice music, and good enough booze. everything was normal until you saw her. she was lean and mysterious, and under the lid of her black ridge top hat you could see her eyes tracking your body as you danced
so yes, her eating you in the back seat of her truck until you cried, holding down your hips when you tried to move changed your brain chemistry just a bit.
now a few years later, you're a little taller, a little smarter, and have collected a handful of studs for your belt. sure you've collected a...not so savory reputation in some of the local bars, but it was nothing a smile and a little flirting couldn't help. and its only going to get better; as the air warms and the trees bloom pussy spirit starts buzzing, and you know rodeo season is upon you again.
it was a hot night at the cow belle and the people even hotter as you scoped the scene from the rim of your glass. you and your friends were perched at the bar, daisy dukes heightened and crop tops tied under your busts.
"i heard red devil rosie'd be here tonight," savannah whispers to your group from beside you, her tall dark legs relaxed with her arm resting on the wood behind you. she always had a bit of a thing for redheads, and she'd had her eyes on rosie ever since it got around that she'd broken up with her fiancee.
"jesus, sav, the poor girl just got heartbroken, now you already wanna jump her bones?" charlize laughs, taking a hard swig of the beer in her hand. standing at a solid five feet and four inches tall the little kentuckian was a handful, always the first in line to ride a mechanical bull or jump in the front of a line dance.
"whats that saying men always use? as soon as you lose one hop on a 'nother?"
"you are deplorable."
as the girls banter back and forth your eyes focus on the rising commotion at the front of the bar. with a slight rise on your toes, making sure not to scuff your boots, and you can't help the growing smile on your face when you spot that blonde hair pushed down by her signature brown stetson.
abigail anderson, the rodeo's angel. she'd only been in the circuit for under two years and sponsors were lining up and begging for her to go pro. it was always easy to spot her, frequently trailed by her already professional friends manny alvarez and owen moore, along with a handful of groupies begging her to look their way.
luckily for you, manny had flirted with you a few weeks back and remained friendly after you turned him down, and he was heading straight towards you while his friends headed to a booth.
"oh god, hide your wives and girlfriends, the buckle brood is here!" he laughs, thanking the bartender for his beer and taking a swig.
"whatever manny, you're just upset our darling here didn't give you a chance." savannah winks.
"i think god was doing me a favor. y'know dixie's been trying to call you for about a week? the poor girls even thought about sending a bouquet. dixie. a bouquet."
"i made it clear before we slept together it would be a one-time thing. 's not my fault she wants more." you sigh.
that just makes the man laugh harder. he chats it up with charlize about how the rankings are looking when he notices how your gaze keeps wandering off, following your eye straight to-
"no."
"hm? i didnt say anything!"
"you said it with your eyes. and im gonna tell you with my mouth that you don't stand a chance. abby hates groupies." he shakes his head.
"abby, huh? i like it." manny grows exasperated as his words go in one ear and out the other. "'n and im technically not a groupie. never seen the woman in my life before now."
"well, look don't touch. or maybe don't look at all, before you put a spell on her or somethin."
you pout, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into a hug. you see abby look your way in the corner of your eye and make sure to stretch your torso just a tiny bit until you're able to feel the bottom of your shirt ride up just that much more. when you see her eyes trail down your waist you hide a smile into the side of your arm.
you let the man go with a sweet goodbye, watching as he grabs two more beers and heads over to the booth and twisting your head before you can catch the blondes gaze.
its only a few minutes later when manny comes back with wide eyes and invites you over to sit with them.
sitting across from her, you can see why people are so attracted to her. she’s big, her muscles bulging out from the sleeves in her plaid shirt. despite her size she doesn’t try to take up more space then needed; confident but not cocky.
she clearly notices your glances, and maybe even the smile on your face when one of her past flings with a girl is brought up in conversation.
“so, you’ve had girlfriends before?” you ask, stirring your cocktail with the little colorful umbrella that came with it.
“no no, don’t answer that, you’ll regret it.” owen butts in, meeting your glare. you’d never talked before, but you were pretty sure you had slept with his fiancée a few years ago. last you’d heard they’d had a baby, maybe you’d offer to babysit sometime.
“why not? are you a groupie?” abby asks.
“can’t be a groupie if i barely know who you are. so why don’t we get to know each other better. preferably in private.”
“whatever you say, darlin.”
you hear the sudden sounds of a few hoots and claps and a familiar song that they always play to get people dancing.
“why don’t you show me some of your moves, big girl?”
she rolls her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh before following you onto the dance floor.
as much as she’s trying to fight it, you can tell abby is enjoying herself, learning quickly as you show her the moves to the dance. you’re a bit surprised she doesn’t know it already until she tells you she’s originally from utah.
“what, they don’t have country bars out in salt lake.”
“no, not like this. at least i never went to any of them.”
“wellll if you ever need a tour guide i’m available. whenever you want me.”
“god, manny told me about you.”
“really? what’s he say? i can probably guess.”
“so you know everybody thinks you’re a playgirl who sleeps with cowgirls for damn near a living and you don’t care?”
you shrug. “‘m just young and having fun. maybe everyone else, including you, is too uptight.”
“oh really? and what, you're supposed to help me loosen up?” she raises a single eyebrow. you don't answer, deciding to just look at her face for a while.
you like how pretty she is. the soft blue of her big eyes, the freckles dotted across her face that trail down her neck and disappear into her shirt. you feel pride in your chest when you see her cheeks redden.
when the song ends you pull away from her, ready to go over and tell your friends goodbye when a large hand grips your wrist, tugging your body back to its previous position. before you can question her you feel the weight of her hat sitting on your head.
"well? you gonna answer my question?"
you can still remember the looks on your friends face's when abby told them she was heading home, still gripping your hand. manny looked like he had just seen pigs fly.
it was hard to ignore the way she didn't let go of you until she was driving or the looks she was giving you when she was looking at the road, or how desperate she was when you finally got her here, dragging you to her room and attaching her strap like she'd die if she didn't get you in bed.
"i don't see what the big fuss is about, this really isn't that hard." you tease her, admiring the way she whines when you refuse to let her wrists go from your hands, using all your strength to keep her from flipping you over
but maybe you should learn when to shut your mouth because she roughly starts bucking her hips, smiling at the euphoric look on your face before you hide your face in her neck, trying and failing to muffle your moans.
"what? i thought you said this was easy?" she laughs when she hears your muffled groan, failing to ignore when you roughly bite her. you can tell she's getting frustrated at being restrained, her hands clenching into fists and repeatedly trying to get them from under your hands. "fuckin - cmon, baby, lemme help you."
god, she was so cute. you'd never say it out loud but you liked all the little nicknames she gave you, the gentle kisses she would place on your skin when she was warming you up for her. if you didn't have a one-time policy you would have chosen to keep her around. just for a little while.
but you could also see the inner turmoil in her eyes, the battle between dominance and submission. when you first met her you thought she'd be a stone top, so you decide to take advantage and reach one of your hands up to her hair and pull, forcing a loud moan from her as her mouth gaped open.
"not so uptight now, are you?" you laugh, awwing at her when she lets out a small whine.
you didnt realize until it was too late that it was a mistake to underestimate her because she was attaching her hands to your hips, planting her feet on the bed, and thrusting up into you like a wild bull, sucking a mark into your chest like she can't see you struggling to breathe.
"yeah, that's it. not so easy now, is it darlin'?"
and oh how you hate how you can't answer her, only able to muster up a weak glare as the pleasure grows, feeling the burning heat gross in your stomach. you're trying to hold off, not ready for this to end just yet, and hating the satisfied look on her face when your shaky arms wrap around her neck.
"you gettin' close, baby?" she maneuvers your legs to spread wider, hitting that spot inside you at just the right angle. god, everything feels so hot and overwhelming and so damn good-
"that's it, show me how pretty you look cummin around me." once she reaches a hand down and roughly rubs your clit it's over, moaning and gasping her name as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. she never stops her movements, in fact, you think she goes harder once she feels your nails dig into her arms.
your head flops onto her shoulder, basking in your post-orgasm bliss as her large hands rub up and down your back. mind hazy, you feel yourself drifting off and giving yourself a mental pat on the back when you're shocked upwards by a fierce thrust from below you, wide eyes darting to abby's.
"what, ya thought we were finished? if you wanna claim me you gotta earn it, bunny."
"oh no, abby i cant-" you try to decline, not sure you can take another before she presses you back into her sheets, manhandling your legs over her shoulders and your arms under your back. she can tell you're about to fight it because she's pushing her strap into you again.
it's embarrassing how close you are already after a few minutes, unable to move as she splits you open in a damn mating press. trying to hide your face in the sheets is futile so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with her, which only brings you closer to the edge because she's looking at you like she wants to fuck you until she physically can't anymore.
she's quieter now but you can hear her mumbling under her breath about how 'you're too damn fine, jesus you're gonna be the death of me,' and the next thing you know you're both cumming, feeling the wet mess grow between your legs.
she sinks into you, boneless on top of you as she gently rubs at your sides as you do the same for her head. after a few minutes she gets up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips at your soft whine at the strap leaving you before heading off to the bathroom to get a washcloth.
it's gentle as you both clean the other, softly trailing the rag down her arms as she observes you. its almost...domestic. which you haven't done in quite a while. it feels nice.
when she gets up to throw it in the hamper you reach for your clothes on the floor before she questions you.
"excuse me, what do you think you're doin?"
"uhh...leaving?"
"nope, bad manners if i let you go home now," she tosses you a shirt from one of her drawers, finding her own pajamas before flopping on her bed. "i don't know what kinda girls in the circuit you've been seein', but I'm not like that."
you're on the fence, rubbing the fabric of her large shirt before putting it on and settling in next to her. it couldn't hurt just to sleep with her, right? "fine. but you should know i don't normally do...this."
"me neither. but there's a first time for everything, right?" she smiles, rubbing your hip from over the shirt before trailing it under. "besides, maybe we can go again in the morning. still need to prove to you I'm not uptight."
thank god for dolly parton.
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sorry if this is shorter than expected i feel like death. can we all do rodeo!abby this summer. pretty please.
taglist : @euphternal @jupiter-502 @vqxen @youcallmeconnor @andersonlore i love you guys im giving you kisses rn
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lwwife · 5 days
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Since you’re taking requests could you please do one where it’s R and Leah’s like 3 year anniversary or something and R plans out a nice surprise but Leah forgets and shows up late which upsets R a lot. Something angsty but with a happy ending 🤭
You forgot?
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Angst (Happy ending), some fluff
-
“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.
“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.
“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.
-
“Happy anniversary baby girl” You whisper to Leah, her eyes fluttering open at the light kisses being left all over her face.
“Mmmh” she grins and turns to you, pulling you in for a proper one. “Happy anniversary” she whispers, smiling brightly at you and then leaning in to kiss you again. Your kisses turn heated and end in some passionate morning sex, causing you both to run a little late, but you both didn’t care, claiming it had to be done to celebrate your third anniversary. Since you were now running late you had agreed to give each other your presents later tonight.
“Darling, meet me there at 6:30 okay? I’ll text you the address so you can pop it in your phone” You peck her lips, walking to the other side of the garage to get in your car.
“Babe please tell me what it is” she whines.
“No can do my love, it’s a surprise just wait and see” you grin, lowering yourself into your car.
“Ughhh” she groans, getting in her own car. You turn and give her a wink through the window as you reverse out of the garage, and you catch her rolling her eyes. You honk loudly at her, and she winds the window down.
“I better not have just seen you rolling your eyes at me missy”, she smiles guiltily but proudly, “Alright then, no more celebratory sex for you” You give her a smug grin and wind your window up.
“No baby wait!” Her calls fall on deaf ears as you roll out the driveway.
-
You text Leah the address once you arrive at work, along with some teasing words. The address included just the street name, and you had told her to meet you in the car park, still wanting the element of surprise for your final destination.
Your day flies by and before you know it, it’s time to leave for the restaurant. You had booked in Leah’s favourite, it was a 6-month waiting list and a lot of sweet talking, but you knew it was all worth it for your girl. After dinner, you planned to take her to the place you two first met, a local pub in Milton Keynes. You first encountered the blonde when you and your best friend were forced to share the dart board with her family, and it all skyrocketed from there. You thought it’d be a nice idea to take her back there, even though the two of you regularly went with Leah’s mum, you thought it’d be a special idea for today, just the two of you.
You changed into the outfit you had brought to work. A long black dress, with a slit down the side of the right thigh. It was Leah’s favourite dress of yours, and every time you wore it, it always ended up being almost ripped to shreds by her at the end of the night. You jumped in the car and quickly texted Leah, “Leaving now xx” before driving off. When you arrived at the restaurant you checked your phone to find your message unread. You didn’t worry too much, assuming she must have been driving on her way. You waited a while longer however there was still no sight of the blue-eyed girl. It was nearing a couple of minutes past your reservation when you decided you were going to have to go into the restaurant, knowing you’d lose the booking otherwise. Once you were seated at the table, you checked your phone—still nothing. You decided to call her, however, the phone rang out to her adorable voicemail that she hadn’t changed in 6 years.
After another 30 minutes passed and all you received was radio silence from Leah you began to worry. You knew she wouldn’t intentionally stand you up, you had been together for three years for god's sake. So, with that in mind, worrying thoughts began to run through your head. Had she been in an accident? Stabbed? God where the fuck is she! After being told by the hostess that you had already occupied an hour and a half of your two-hour booking you decided to call some of the Arsenal girls as they would’ve been the last to see her.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?”
“Lia! Oh, thank God! I’m sorry to disturb you but I was meant to meet Leah over an hour ago and I haven’t heard from her. Do you have any idea where she is?” You rambled into the phone, receiving a few strange looks from the surrounding tables.
“Oh um, Leah!” she called out,
“Yeah?” you heard your girl on the other end of the phone,
“Y/n is on the phone; you were meant to meet her?” Lia responds,
“Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck!” Is all you hear, and you can instantly tell the Milton Keynes twang in her cuss. “Baby god fuck I am so sorry, the girls were all going out for drinks and I completely lost track of time” She tried to reason through the speaker. Your worries instantly faded but anger fuelled inside of you. The phone bruised your hand as you gripped it.
“Where. The fuck. Are you?” You quipped, tight-lipped.
“Danny’s bar, babe I’m sor-“, you hung up on her not wanting to hear the pathetic reasoning for her absence. You hurriedly exit the restaurant, sincerely apologising, not before they pull you back and force you to pay a hefty fee for the time. You pay and angrily storm to your car, driving straight to the bar where Leah is. Once you arrive you stride in, instantly spotting or rather hearing the loud group of girls. Katie calls you over and you happily waltz towards her, still in your dress. You don’t spot Leah at the table.
“Your girl is at the bar” Katie slings an arm around your shoulder,
“I don’t care” you reply, taking her drink and chugging it down.
“Finally, someone who wants to have a bit of fun!” Katie exclaims, “I’ll get us some shots.” She winks.
“Put it on Leah’s tab” you shout after her as she heads to the bar. At the sound of her name, Leah turns around to find you sat at the table. Her eyes widen and fear washes over her face. She swallows and begins to walk over to you slowly. As she goes to sit down you all but look at her and slide your handbag to reserve the spot next to you, “taken”. You still refuse to face her. Leah knows better than to plead with you now, not wanting to make a scene, so she allows you to ignore her. She nods and walks around to the other side of the table, opposite you.
-
As the minutes ticked by, more alcohol went down your throat. You were slightly tipsy at this point. Leah had still not spoken to you, as you refused to acknowledge her, but you could feel the burn of her eyes on you all night.
Before you knew it, everyone was starting to twinkle their way out, tipsy goodbyes being shared around. Leah, who had still not quipped a word, followed you to your car. Having been driven there by Lia, and also knowing you’d had far too much to drink to drive yourself.
You both walked silently towards the car, you with an extra rage in your step. When you made it to the door you pulled out your keys. The car squeaking noises back and forth as you kept locking and unlocking the car. Leah grabbed your hand to help, and you pulled away, hard. “Baby just let me help you unlock the car”, she pleaded.
“One, don’t call me that. Two, I don’t need help.” You scoffed, continuing to tumble with the buttons. Leah sighed, not bothered to argue with you. Once you finally got the car unlocked you headed to get into the driver’s seat before Leah grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Oh no no, you’re not driving” She states.
“What? Why?” you reply, outraged.
“Because you’ve had too much to drink, go to the other side”. You huff, sulking to the passenger side of the car.
-
The beginning of the drive was silent, until your mind began to sober up, and begin wondering.
“You can sleep on the couch” You quipped to Leah.
“What! Why?” She squeaked back.
“Why do you think!?” You began to raise your voice. Leah pulled over to the side of the road, knowing this could get a little messy.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, It just completely slipped my mind, I completely forgo-“
“You forgot? You fucking forgot?! Are you shitting me right now Leah?” You scream at her, hands out.
“Baby I’m sor-“she tries.
“No! You don’t get to call me that right now. Just drive.” Leah sighed and pressed down on the pedal.
-
When you returned home, you marched upstairs, slamming the bedroom door. Leah remained downstairs and sighed at your loud actions. She knew she fucked up and she also knew she wouldn’t get out of this one easy. So, she began assembling everything she’d need to make it up to you.
-
“Baby?” Leah knocked softly at your bedroom door. She was met with silence. “Baby? Can I come in?”. Silence again. Leah decided to softly open the door. Attempting to squeeze through, but struggled due to her current clothing, and accidently pushed the entire door wide open.
She stood there, a little embarrassed, head to toe in a pumpkin costume, flowers in hand, and a small trolley that looked like she had stolen from her little cousin behind her. She smiled softly and awkwardly. You had to stifle back a laugh, covering it with a small cough at the sight. You remained silent.
“I’m sorry, I really am” she whispers. “Let me make it up to you?” she smiles softly, lifting the flowers. You couldn’t stay mad at her little face enclosed in her pumpkin hat. So, you softly nodded and smiled. She smiled brightly and practically ran to you.
-
You both lay in bed naked, sat up against the headboard, Leah’s costume tossed on the floor, her arms around you, your back to her front. The trolley of food is empty, and the smidges of melted chocolate are still visible on both your bodies. “You’re a twat you know?” You turn your neck slightly to turn up and look at her. She smiled down at you.
“I know” she frowns.
“But you’re my twat” you smile. She laughs at your absurd and cheesy words.
She leans into your lips softly smiling, “That I am”.
-
A/n: First time writing in a few months! Hopefully this is okay and everyone enjoyed :)
As always, kind feedback, along with any questions, discussions, and convos are always welcome in my inbox!
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catladyoftheyr · 2 months
Text
Muscle Memory
Pt 2
Miguel O’Hara x reader
Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.
Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.
Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.
Word count: 2.7k
Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼
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You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.
“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”
“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”
“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.
“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.
“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita
“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.
“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-
You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.
You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”
Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”
“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.
“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.
“I’m just admiring the view, baby”
If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.
Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”
“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”
You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”
“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.
That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.
Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.
“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”
“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.
“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.
Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.
You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.
Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.
“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.
“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.
“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.
You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.
“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.
Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.
“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”
“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”
“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.
“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.
“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
Text
I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)
Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.
While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.
CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut
To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess
Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂
*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me
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*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!
You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.
You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.
You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.
It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.
A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.
A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.
For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.
Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.
Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.
“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”
You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.
Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.
You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.
You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.
You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.
You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.
Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.
He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.
He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.
The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.
Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.
They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.
Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.
When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”
Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.
The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.
Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”
Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.
“Sick? For how long?”
Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”
“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”
“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.
Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.
Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?
Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.
“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.
Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.
Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.
Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.
If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.
Shadowheart be damned.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!
You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.
You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.
You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-
“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”
“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”
“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”
Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.
“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.
You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.
Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?
Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.
Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.
It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.
You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.
“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”
“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”
Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.
“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”
“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she��s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”
Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!
Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”
“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”
“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.
Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”
“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”
“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”
Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.
You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”
Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.
You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.
“A girl?”
His question breaks the air.
“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.
A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.
“You don’t want to be involved?”
Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.
“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”
You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”
His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.
“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”
You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.
“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”
Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.
“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”
Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.
You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.
Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”
“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”
“What wish?”
It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“Right… that.”
The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.
“Astarion-“
“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”
You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.
“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”
You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.
“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”
You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.
Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”
Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”
“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
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Dpxdc (sounds like a bad joke) AU: A Cat, an Amazon and an underage Dead kid walk into a bar...
Selina Kyle was on official Catwoman business on the Coast of Greece, though of course she told her currently on (off again on again) boyfriend Bruce that it was just a girls weekend away. A particular jewel came to mind and it needed to be hers, ancient Obsidian carved with symbols of power (and yes, one of the symbols happened to be a cat.)
Selina knew she was getting close to the artifact when Diana Prince showed up. The no-good goody-two-shoes museum curator seemed to have a will of iron, and each time they crossed paths, the tall beauty had some passing remark about Bruce (which was really starting to get under Selina's skin) and the fact that they were just friends. Who does this chick even think she is? Just because she can speak fluent Greek, knows Selina's boyfriend's favorite bedtime story to read his kids, and has an ass that just won't quit doesn't mean she's better than her!
Selina is going to (remind herself frequently that women in competition is just a factor of the misogynistic capitalistic society they live in) do her best to keep under the radar, steal the artifact fast, and then make Bruce propose to her.
But then this weird scrawny kid shows up and asks if she's seen something of his. Selina is on the street, sitting at a table outside the local cafe conveniently located across the street from the auction house holding the artifact, when he approaches. He looks like he could be one of Bruce's kids, made distinct by his very nervous demeanor and shrunken shoulder's attempting to make him look smaller. Briefly, he tells her about a piece of black glass that has a few drawings of his on it, about the size of his palm, and may or may not have some lingering ability to... he doesn't finish his sentence.
Diana was walking across the street to go into the auction house... but to Selina's chagrin, the tall could-be-a-model crosses and approaches them instead. Her eyes are settled on the young man, and he's nervously asking her something in Greek. (How did a kid with a midwestern accent speak fluent greek?) Diana explains that he must have gotten a replica of the item showing in the Auction house somehow, and the kid looks like he's eaten a sour lemon all of a sudden.
A projectile comes hurdling at them a mere moment after the kid's cold breath becomes visible in the hot greek sun- Diana braces the impact for them both, her golden bracers revealed from under her sensible work blouse sleeves.
"Oh! You're Wonder Woman!" The kid gleefully exclaims, which makes Diana and Selina both die a little inside, before adding: "Hey, no worries about this guy, I got 'em. But could you grab that chunk of obsidian for me? It's mine and I'm seriously in hot water for having broken my cro- er- for losing it in the first place. Thanks!"
He suddenly bloomed into white hair and green eyes, a dark suit appearing from nowhere, and flew towards the threat. Wonder Woman didn't spare a single word on Selina and chased after him into combat.
Selina sipped on her coffee and, upon finishing it- casually got up, went to the auction house, and stole the Obsidian. Finders Keepers.
It was the late afternoon when Diana walked into the Bar right behind Selina with the teen at her side. He looked nervous but was eye-ing the bottles on the wall as much as he was trying to look intimidating to her. Diana looked annoyed at best, and not just with Selina.
"I think we should have a little chat, sound good to you Kitten? Princess, did you want to stay to talk too?" Selina's famous cat like grin on full display.
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testrella · 4 months
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you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2
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synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.
fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.
author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun
“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”
father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her. 
a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.
when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind
 “oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage. 
“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”
geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.
“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”
she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”
“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter. 
he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey. 
“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”
he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines. 
geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself. 
“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred. 
you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand. 
“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”
he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?
“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.” 
you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.
“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind. 
later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.
“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts. 
“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?” 
geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.
“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”
“well..”
his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence. 
“did she have big tits?” 
geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.
“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”
“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“  
as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?
“excuse me, is that you father?” 
there is was.
the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier. 
“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?” 
you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume. 
“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“ 
before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there. 
forgive me Lord, for i have sinned. 
“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.
“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”
he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday. 
he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous. 
“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper. 
geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.
 “of course i am.“ 
“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“ 
he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.
“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“ 
he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.
“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”
“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”
she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.
“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end. 
“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.
you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side. 
he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.
you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.
“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”
geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same. 
‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’ 
where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off? 
you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment. 
where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?
your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers. 
where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?
you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself. 
“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember. 
“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.
“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”
your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.
“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”
his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.
“take it off for me, father geto.”
being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt. 
this is sin. he was sinning. 
but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.
“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume. 
“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his. 
he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in. 
you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.
“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess. 
“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.” 
you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.
“please geto, for me at least.”
oh, how could he ever deny your requests? 
his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough. 
marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy. 
geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.
“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”
on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.
geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him
“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it. 
he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.
"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."
now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.
"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."
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babsisbakery · 1 month
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Running for your life
Alexia Putellas x fem!reader
For @greynatomy: happy belated birthday
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warning: angst, someone is following you at night time
It was night time. Darkness envelops you. The moon and stars trying to illuminate your way but failing miserably. Too many large trees, their branches letting through as little light as possible. Many broken street lights on your way. The path is barely lit. Shadows cast upon every direction. Every step ricochets in the narrow street. The paved sidewalk does not help the following noises. Hectic steps can be heard, people watching from their windows but not daring to interfere. The path is empty besides two silhouettes. A broad figure directly behind you. Their pace is not slowing down, keeping up with you. At least you’re thankful for the extra laps you have to run on a daily basis because the workout is coming in handy at the moment. Otherwise, you’re afraid, it would have been a futile attempt to escape. 
Adrenaline pumping through your veins at rapid speed. Your heart beat has never been so high. Just one small mishap and it's over. The person behind you would get what it wants and that's you. As you keep running you see a group of women, far from you. Should you or should you not flee to them. You would outnumber the person but wouldn't you put innocent ladies at risk. Put their lives on the line to save yours. To maybe endanger some strangers. You decide against it, you weren't sure if the said person had a weapon. Even a simple knife can cause severe damage. Those ladies don't seem fit enough, rather drunk, a bit shaky on their legs. As you've already decided on the other possible option it struck your mind. It would have been perfect. Run to the helpless women, letting the person pursue them and not you. You have plenty of energy to get away safely while they are preoccupied with its fresh victims. But it was too late. Your mind was set on preserving their lives and risking your own in the process. 
Like a lightning bolt it struck you. Your girlfriend Alexia is out with a couple of her friends from the club while you decided to head to Irene to see Mateo. Walking back home alone in the dark didn't seem that bad at the time. Well how wrong you only were. A stranger following you, is not how you imagined your night to end. You should have stayed over like Irene suggested but you came up with another clever idea to get yourself killed - or worse, ending your football career. It's normal for yourself to get yourself in danger or trouble. But this is on another level.
Remembering the club’s name as you try to speed up, reserving your energy says what, to outpace the bastard. As you are mapping out the streets in your head and frantically searching for signs which indicate where you were you hear a bang. You don't dare to look back too scared to stumble and possibly end up like most horror movie characters, dead. Through a traffic mirror you could hardly identify someone but with a bit of luck a local just turns on their porch lanterns which illuminate the darkness. The figure is in a good distance from you, providing a slight cushion for emergencies. For example not looking where you go and losing your balance. 
Finally you figure out which streets to pass to get to your destination, your girl. You’d need five minutes if you sprint, walking there would be much longer. It shocks you that you have run such a large distance already. Not sure how much of this pace you would be able to continue without struggle. Your breath seems a bit more ragged. Heart pumping faster. Some sweat collects on your forehead. The purse on your shoulder felt heavier than usual. 
Time flies by fast, the constant movement making you lose track of it. Not comprehending how close you actually are to the club, you look around. Nothing seems familiar, well you've only been here a few times but always focused on the conversations with your friends. Panic overcomes you, the energy left in you fading. Frantically you look around but your head isn't thinking straight. With no idea how close or far the stranger is you search for an entrance, a safe space. A place to protect you from cruelty. But that's a mistake on your part. You misstep or stumble or you run over your own feet, you don't register clearly but you’re aware of falling.
You feel your jeans ripping. Your hands cushion your fall the best they can. Ripping your palms open in the process. But there is plenty of adrenaline coursing through your veins for you not to feel any pain. Blood pours out of your head soon after it hits the ground. The only thing you register with your blurry vision is the mysterious coming closer. There is an empty attempt to scream by you. Nothing comes out of your mouth, it doesn't even move, it stays closed. 
What you don't notice is that a door, a few metres from your current location, opens as you fall. It's your girlfriend with a couple of your shared teammates. They don't know it's you. Your back facing them. Still they run to the “stranger” in need. They are always helping those who they can help. Alexia doesn't miss the dark figure running towards you. She steps in front of the person she assumes is an unknown person. Blocking the way for your chaser. “Is there a problem mis-.” tries to ask your girlfriend. Before she can end her question her attention is demanded by Patri, who turns her abruptly around. She faces you, her face losing any colour it has.
In her position now stand Mapi and Lucy. Like two bodyguards, protecting their friend. Alexia falls to her knees. Seeing you so fragile breaks her heart. Noone would want to see their significant other in such a terrible state. Ingrid is on the phone summoning an ambulance. The flowing blood is concerning, your injury could be worse than what reaches the eye. Your girlfriend is cradling your head, muttering things in Spanish, incoherent to you. Even if she was talking louder you wouldn't have heard her. Your head is safely tucked into her lap. Her pants are now covered in red. You are in a trance. Mind foggy, vision still blurry. Consciousness is slipping from the tip of your fingers. The last thing you see before your eyes shut is the stranger passing something to Mapi. Something you recognise. 
When you awake, you're in an unfamiliar environment. Alone in a white room. Machines beeping, wires attached to your arm and bandages cover your hands. Normally people would panic but you don't, staying level headed. You’ve been in plenty of those rooms to add things together. Lying in a hospital. The light is too bright for you. A concussion for sure. At this moment Alexia walks in, looking rather shallow. As if a trail of sadness is following her. But as she sees you awake, the usual spark in her eyes returns. Relieve washing over her face. She’s instantly by your side, grabbing your hand into her own. Kissing your bandages head. Until now you weren't aware of that. Slowly your free hand moves to touch your head. Lots of covered area.
The midfielder presses a button, calling a nurse. The medical staff checks on you. A fast recovery is promised. Nothing to worry about. Except your mental state. Alexia tells you what had happened while you were out of it. Explaining in detail what the stranger wanted. To give you back something that had slipped from you while you were rummaging through your purse. But it seemed that the said person was being cryptic and soon vanished after your teammates bombarded them with their own doubts of the sketchy situation. They also told Mapi and Lucy that they tried to call out to you. Maybe they really did but you don't recall such a thing. Something your mind could have pushed away, a lost memory. It raises a lot of questions in your mind.
Since this incident you've never been the same, always cautious about your surroundings but even though it ended well you can't shake the feeling off that it could have been different. If you hadn't reached your teammates you wouldn't have seen another day. Of course that's only speculation even if the said stranger apologised and expressed their motive, it didn't sit right with you. The only person you expressed your thoughts about this was Alexia. She had your back and was there for you. Nightmares were plaguing your nights, your girlfriend right beside you consoling you when you burst into tears and reassuring you. With time those went away as well, contently lying in Alexia’s safe arms, sleeping peacefully. Your trauma is healing slowly. Still you’re not sure if you dare to go out alone in the dark again. Maybe with some therapy you will but for now you take one day at a time. But you know you’ve grown closer with your person. You're thankful she stood by you. Not leaving your side even if it got difficult. It made you certain she is the one. You knew before but some issues kept you from truly believing it. It was time to take the next step in your relationship. Life is too short to waste it, you've come to realise. This event changed you, it's something you don't wish on anyone, it still had a few positive outcomes. A fresh perspective on life. A life with Alexia.
All together it made you appreciate the people around you more. Stronger bonds not only with family but with friends. They showed up for you when you were in need, not even knowing it was you. That's the people you can count on no matter what.
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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I’ve had this thing in the back of my head for awhile about Phone Sex Operator!Eddie and the reader going through a dry spell so she calls to get out her frustration OR the other way around and Eddie constantly calls because he’s obsessed with her voice, and most of the time he just wants to hear her voice so he’ll spend his time just talking to her
dial-a-thrill
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Phone sex operator!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.
⚠️warnings: eventual smut, 18+ mdni, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sweet eddie, talk of sexual acts, lots of pet names (baby, sweet thing etc) readers been deprived, one little mention of readers ex being a cheater, they fall fast.
notes: thank you so much to whoever requested this. I’m obsessed with this prompt. Yes, there will be a part 2. (don’t forget to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)
wc: 3k
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You’re not sure what lead you to this point, what has you so desperate to stoop to a new low. But you’re willing to bet it’s the fact that you’ve not been touched in several months. After you ended things with your cheating, lying, sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend Troy, the thought of moving on and putting yourself back out there in the dating world just didn’t seem appealing to you in the slightest. You decided after the break up to throw yourself into work, so you didn’t have to deal with the hollowed out feelings of loneliness that had taken over.
Up until now, you thought you’d be completely fine, you thought you would make single life your bitch by doing just that, staying single. What’s the point of moving on when you’re just bound to get hurt? You couldn’t risk feeling that pain, again.
So instead of being a normal person and going out to a bar or club to find someone to offer you the release you’ve been craving, you’re dialing a number you got off the the tube as you watched some late night tv. The commercial alone had you hot and bothered, the men they used for the ad reeled you in so easily, but the sultry sound of the man’s voice that read off the number, beckoning you to call and talk to “hot local men” had you shamelessly clenching your thighs together. Has it really been so long, that you’re this desperate? The answer is yes, absolutely.
So here you are laid in bed, silky pajamas adorning your curves, as you wrap the red cord of the landline around your manicured fingers. Awaiting a voice on the other end, as the phone continues to ring. You debate hanging up, this was embarrassing, surely the man that picks up will know what a desperate loser you are, so desperate you have to call a phone sex operator to help you get off. But your curiosity out weighed your pride at this point.
“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” The low husky voice greeted, knocking you right out of the back and forth thoughts playing ping pong in your mind.
“Hi, hello.” You replied, as all confidence left your body “m-my names, y/n.” You closed your eyes in shame, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, it’s been so long that you can’t even speak to the opposite gender without fumbling over your words, or it could be the insanely attractive voice of the man on the phone, that is making you lose all resolve.
“Nice to meet you y/n, my names Eddie. How are you this evening?” He mused, you could hear the hints of a smirk said through his words.
“I’m doing okay, how’s yours?” And you definitely sucked at small talk.
“Can’t complain now that I’m talking to you.” He flirted, you know he probably says that to everyone who calls in, but you couldn’t help the blooming heat of your cheeks at his admission.
You giggle like a little school girl, “well same here, Eddie.” You try out the same salacious tone he’s using, but end up cringing at yourself.
“What can I help you with tonight, sweetheart?” Your panties are ruined, you mind as well take them off now because if he keeps up with this you’ll be drenched. “Hmm, I don’t know, I just wanted to talk.” You responded, immediately realizing how desperate that sounds, you should’ve just hung up when you had the chance.
“Just to talk? Are you sure about that?” He laughs a little before continuing. “I mean, we can talk, don't get me wrong but people don’t usually call just to talk.” Yup, you were right, you are humiliated.
“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t, but um I’ve just I don’t know maybe this was a dumb idea, I’m sorry.” You almost slam the phone down back onto the receiver before you hear his voice again, “no, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or weird just because you want to talk. I don’t mind talking, sweet thing, I’m just not used to it, that's all.”
You bite your lip, mentally battling with yourself whether you want to continue, his voice once again knocks you out of your inner turmoil, “hello? Sweetheart?” — “mmm, yeah I’m here, sorry!” You say after clearing your throat. “Well what would you like to talk about? we can talk for as long as you'd like, but just to remind you, it is 5 dollars per hour.”
“Right, yeah I remember,” you clarified as you lay back into your pillows, getting more comfortable. “So, how do these calls usually go for you?” Probing purely out of curiosity, a little part of you wanting to know how this phone call could possibly go.
“Well, that depends on you, sweet thing.” He chuckles, “but, usually it’s women wanting me to help them get off.” He sighs, as if he’s deep in a memory, “mm, I see, so what do you usually say t-to help them?” You were aware Eddie could practically feel your nervous energy through the phone, “hey, baby. I can tell you’re nervous, I'm sure this is your first time doing this, but I promise you I'm not here to judge you, I don’t bite okay?” His voice going from an almost low growl to that of a tone with genuine compassion, it put you at ease and made you feel ten times more comfortable with the whole situation.
“Thank you, I needed that.” You lightly chuckle, “so, do you also touch yourself? Or, I mean I’m sure you get so many calls, sometimes you have to fake it.” You continue prodding until the conversation slowly goes in the right direction, in due time. He hums before he begins speaking, “I’ll be honest, I fake it about 80% of the time, after doing this so long you kind of get immune to the dirty talk and the moans.” You weren’t sure if you wanted that honesty, you definitely don’t want him to fake it with you.
After a beat of silence from you, as if he’s telepathically reading your mind through the phone he lets out a held breath softly distorting the sound on his side. “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m trying to make you comfortable and now you’re probably going to be worried about whether what I’m doing or saying is real.” He huffs. “No, I mean yeah that was my first thought but I guess I asked so you’d answer honestly. You’re right, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m just curious on how it all works.” You begin playing with the buttons on your silky top out of nervousness.
“That’s alright, I’ve never had anyone call in curious about any of this, so it’s a nice change. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and I’ll follow along. How does that sound, baby?” His tone pulls you in like a siren's song. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
You bite your lip, and begin rubbing at your pert nipple as you continue to speak. “Eddie?” Your voice sounded so soft, you almost didn’t recognize it. “Yes, sweetheart?” His voice, just as soft, answered. “Can you not pretend with me, please?” You sounded so delicate, so sweet. “I wasn’t planning on it, y/n.” His voice was wrapped in honey. ‘I wish I knew him outside of this’ pops into your head, but you quickly shake that thought away.
“Your voice is really sexy.” The burst of confidence makes your heart rate pick up. “Oh yeah?” His tone now cocky, you couldn’t help the movement of your right hand making its way into your little sleep shorts. “Mmhm, it is.” The words come out breathy. “Well thank you, sweet girl.” He says. “Mmm.” Is all you let out as you begin to rub your clit over your cotton panties, you can feel the very prominent wet spot in the center. “What are you doing, baby?” The seductive voice on the other end asks. “I have my hand in my shorts, I-I’m rubbing myself.” You say shyly.
Eddie’s eating it up on the other side, your innocence for what you’re engaging in, is really turning him on, he hasn’t been this aroused by a caller in what seems like forever. “How bout you take your little shorts off? Get comfortable.” He suggests, you oblige by lifting your hips and pulling your panties and shorts down in one go, dropping them off the side of your bed. “Okay, they’re off.” The last thing you wanted from this call was to feel desperate, yet here you are completely and utterly desperate for this man, who you didn’t even know. “Good girl,” his tone getting even more salacious, “open your legs up wide for me, baby.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled out of your chest at his words, you’d never been talked to like this, it was sending you into an orbit and you began to wonder if he was really local to your area like the commercial said, what you would do to meet him in real life and have all these words whispered into your ear as he pounded into your pussy.
“You like that, baby? You wanna be my good girl?” As those words left his mouth, you began to sink a finger into your drenched hole. “Fuck yes, I wanna be your good girl, please?” You beg as your lower lip slightly puckers. “Listen to you baby, you’re a natural.” He says with a chuckle, “such pretty little noises. You’re makin’ my dick hard, sweet thing.” He growls, “mmm, am I really?” You’re continuing the assault on your pussy, pushing your finger all the way in to the second knuckle, but you need more so you add another. “I told you baby, I’m not faking it with you, you make the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, fuck!” He groans, you hear shuffling going on in the background. After adding the second finger you’re now letting out little sounds of “uh, uh” and “ah”. You can hear slick, wet sounds coming from him, “If I was there with you right now, what would you want me to do to you, baby?” He sounds breathless. “I would have your fingers inside of me, instead of mine. They’re too small.” You whine with a pout. “I would love to finger fuck you, baby.” He groans, “would you let me eat your pussy?” He sounds so needy, needy for you and it’s turning you on even more, if that’s possible. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.” You timidly say, “no? Well fuck now I wanna be the first guy to eat your pussy, make you feel so fucking good! I’d make you forget what your name was, after I’m done.” His breathing continues to pick up.
“Oh you’re cocky.” You giggle but it’s cut off by a guttural moan you let out after you take the wetness from your hole and begin rubbing your clit. “Fuck,” he moans before continuing. “I have a good reason to be.” He says with a heavy sigh. “Really? Why is that?” Your ministrations have picked up as the knot in your belly begins to tighten, “if you saw my dick in person you’d understand.” He chuckles, “describe it to me, Eddie.” You know the description is going to be what sends you over the edge. “It’s about 8 inches, cut and thick.” Your legs start shaking as you tense up your body, “keep going, omg please keep going.” You squeak. He laughs before he continues, “It’s so fucking hard right now, the tip is so red and I’m already leaking precum, baby.” The picture in your head is so vivid, god what you would do to be able to suck it, or bounce on it. “Eddie, fuck! It sounds so pretty.” The knot is wrapped so tight and your body is unbelievably tense. “Spit on it for me, baby and pretend it’s me on my knees, sucking your cock.” You were full of confidence now that you were on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm, “fuck, I’m the one suppose to be talking to you like that, but holy shit sweet thing, you’re about to make me cum. Are you close?” You debate on lying and edging yourself, you don’t want this phone call to end, but you can’t you’re already there and fuck does it feel amazing. “I’m cumming! Oh my god Eddie, I’m cumming!” You’ve never been a loud person in bed but you’ve also never been this turned on. If that says anything about your ex, then maybe you should be more appreciative that it ended.
“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby!” You hear the slick noises get faster as Eddie’s moans get louder, as the crescendo of his orgasm crashes over him and now all you hear is the loud breathing of you both, coming down from your highs. “You still there?” He asks, after inhaling and exhaling a particularly deep breath. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You didn’t want this call to get awkward, you should probably just thank him for his time and hang up. “Do you wanna keep talking or are you good for the night?” His cocky laugh makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Well maybe I can call again, sometime?” You get up and slip your panties and shorts back onto your lower half. “Yeah baby, you can call whenever you like.” You can hear his smile, even though you can’t see it, but god you wish you could see it. “So if I were to call, say tomorrow same time, would you answer?” You ask nervously, “Well, I’m not supposed to do this and I never have, but I do have an extension number you can reach me on after dialing this one, if the line is busy then just hang up and try again until I answer, does that work?” You nod before remembering he can’t see you, “y-yeah, that works. What is it?” You dig in your side drawer pulling out an old receipt and pen, “it’s extension #045.” You scribble it down before throwing the pen back in the drawer, “okay, sounds good. You have a goodnight Eddie.” There was a giddiness to your tone, you hoped he didn’t pick up on. “Goodnight, baby. I’ll talk to you later?” He questioned, “yes, talk to you later.” You hang up and stand from your bed walking over to your mirror, sticking the number on one of the open spaces between the mirror and the wood encasing it.
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You didn’t call Eddie until four days later, you were swamped with work and when you’d get home you were absolutely exhausted, you also didn’t wanna seem too eager so you were grateful work took up some of your time. But today was your day off and your plan was to stay home and talk to Eddie, maybe it’s stupid to spend your time talking to a phone sex operator but you can’t deny, he made you feel things you never have before.
When the clock hit 7:30pm you punched the number and the extension into the phone, to your disappointment it was busy, so you hung up and decided to occupy yourself for a little bit. After about 20 minutes you called back, Eddie almost immediately answered.
“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” You smile at the sound of his voice.
“Eddie, it’s y/n.” You were afraid the next time you called you’d feel as nervous as the last time, but luckily you had some sort of confidence this time round.
“Fuck, thank god! I had some real weirdos today.” He snorts “I haven’t heard from you, thought you wouldn’t end up calling back.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. Wow, did he actually want to talk to you? A part of you thought he wouldn’t even remember you the next time you called, but here he is basically telling you he waited for your call, he thought about you. The thought made your cheeks rosy and made a warmth descend over your body.
“I’m sorry, I was really busy with work, and honestly way too exhausted, but luckily I didn’t have to go in today, so..” you trail off before he interrupts. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. Guess I was just excited to hear from you.” Your eyes slightly widen at his words, excited to hear from me? You silently asked yourself. “Yeah, right. How many women call in and hear that?” You cackled at your words, but Eddie stayed silent. “I actually don’t tell anyone that, just like I’ve never given out my direct extension.” He takes a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you have your thoughts about me considering what my job is, but when I speak to other women it’s about sex and that’s it, for me and them. They don’t care if they’re talking to me or some other guy, I-I know this is weird, given this is our second time talking on the phone, but I really felt this connection with you I’ve never felt, talking to anyone else.” Your stomach fills with butterflies, you knew you felt something, you just didn’t expect him to feel it too. You couldn’t help but do a little giddy dance at his words, you felt like you were dreaming. You’ve been pining over this man for days, unable to get him out of your mind and you don’t even know what he looks like, you only have his voice and personality to go based on and somehow that makes the connection feel deeper. “Hey, um are you really local to Indianapolis?” You sheepishly ask. “I actually live in Hawkins, so kind of.” He says, but his next words catch you totally off guard, “would you like to maybe meet up sometime?”
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Thank you for reading!
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fuckmyskywalker · 1 year
Text
Babysitting — Anakin Skywalker.
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— Pairing: SingleDad!Anakin x Babysitter!Reader.
— Summary: You stay at his house while he's at a boring fundraising event of the company he works for, so, you do what you love to do when he's not home... Lock yourself in his room, inside your fantasies, pretending he's yours. You lay down on his bed, imagining his touch, his voice, it feels so... real. But, it's just an illusion... right?
— CW: 18+, smut! minors DNI. ModernAU!Setting, Anakin and Reader are clearly delusional and obsessed with each other <3. Light stalking (maybe?), masturbation (f n' m), a bit of voyeurism (?), Fingering, PiV sex, unhealthy shit. | word count: 2.5k | not proofread!
— a/n: My first post here, yay! I'm so excited and so nervous. Hope you like it! Happy May 4th! 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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“Sorry for calling you on such short notice” Anakin apologizes, frowning. Leia is on his hip, fighting the sleep without any hints of success. Her chocolate eyes blink slowly, looking at you, her favorite playtime partner. “Luke is already sleeping upstairs, but this one is giving me trouble”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Skywalker” You replied with a smile, fetching the little girl from his arms and placing her on your chest. Leia places her chin on your shoulder, quickly falling asleep. “Have fun at your fundraiser!” 
“If you need anything, call me,” He says, oddly serious. You don’t mind, though there’s something about his permanent anxious blue eyes that makes your heart race. “And don’t call me that, I’m not that old” He sighs and walks closer to kiss Leia’s forehead. 
You wished he kissed your forehead too.
Being the babysitter of a 26-year-old, single, and widowed Dad wasn’t exactly everyone’s dream job… It wasn’t yours either, at the beginning that is; When you first read the job offer online you thought it was a joke, it seemed too good to be true, but still, you had nothing to lose— And to your amazement, a tired voice answered your call and the instant you heard the thunderous cry of a child, you knew it was very, very real.
It wasn’t just babysitting Leia and Luke, but you ended up babysitting Anakin as well. Helping him fix his tie, packing him any leftovers (He didn’t care it was the dino nuggets Luke begged and cried for), and even helping him with some house cleaning on those days when he had to stay extra hours at the office. You instantly clicked with his kids, Luke was definitely a bit more hesitant to come out of his shell, shyly hiding behind his sister’s white pajamas, but Leia liked you from your very first day, her feisty and energetic attitude quite surprising for a four-year-old. 
Tonight, it was no different. You were in your bed, reading some random book from the local library when your phone rang, and Anakin hurriedly explained to you how he forgot he had a fundraising event that evening and if you could watch the kids. You agreed without hesitation, and even a bit more excited than you would’ve wanted to, but he was too busy chasing Luke to dress him up to notice your odd enthusiasm. 
You walk upstairs, listening to his car engine driving away. Carefully placing Leia on his little bed, you gave Luke a quick look, making sure he was asleep. Turning on their nightlight, you leave the door open, in case one of them wakes up. 
It was the second time you spend the night at Anakin’s home, the first time being last month, when he was out of town for a weekend, and just like you did the last time, you walk to his bedroom, slowly, feeling yourself, imagining that this was your house.
And that he was your husband.
Inside his closet, the scent of his body wash, his expensive cologne, and just him drowns you. You grab one of his sweaters, your favorite one, that black turtleneck that’s tight in the right places. Bringing it up to your face you smell it, he must have worn it this morning because the perfume was intense and it made your head twirl with excitement. 
You take off your shirt, putting his sweater on. The material it’s so soft, and the warm sensation brings you to another level of ecstasy, wondering if this is how it feels to have his muscular, tanned arms around you. 
Laying down on his bed, you bury your face in his pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull with utter obsession. Everything about him allures you to a point that it is maddening. You know everything you need to know about him; His wife died three years ago and he hasn’t been on a single date since, between the kids, his work, and the mourning it has been impossible. You know he has a major sweet tooth, and you love to see his little smirk every time you bake cookies, especially for him. You know he hates his mechanical arm but somehow it fascinates you. You know he is a workaholic, always trying to keep his mind busy and to keep himself in line. You know about his… issues, you had seen his bottles of Celexa, Sertraline, and Lorazepam. You know his favorite food, his favorite movie, who he tolerates at work and those he hates the most. 
But you wish to know everything about him. Every single little detail.
Still with his sweater drowning your body, you walk downstairs, microwaving the pizza he bought that night probably under Leia’s command. Eating the couch, you turn on the TV, watching a random show without really paying attention to it, your mind still drifting away to the thought of owning this place. Of owning him. 
Waiting for him like a little, pretty housewife. Dinner ready, wearing a cute pink apron, the kids running around the living room, greeting him with a kiss…
Oh, such wonderful fantasies.
Cleaning the kitchen, you return to the living room to pick up the twins’ toys, making sure everything looks good and homely. You can already picture it, sitting next to him on the weekends, laying on his chest while ranting about work just like he always does to you… but this time he cups your cheeks to kiss you, to enjoy his days off by your side.
Time flies, and you know it because the clock is almost one-hour past midnight. You start to wonder where he is, did he really go to that boring event?
He looked too worried about it, plus, why would Anakin lie to you? It’s not like he had something else to do, right?
Your mind races without noticing it, what if he’s out with someone else, and he just wanted to keep it a secret? The sting of jealousy settles in your stomach almost comfortably. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He is yours as much as you are his. Even if Anakin doesn’t fully know it yet. You’ve seen the way he smiles at you, how he thanks you for helping him so, so, so much, you see how happy he looks when the twins squeal with excitement at your presence, how quickly he raised your pay, even if you refused.
“I insist,” He said, with those ocean eyes. And who were you to deny him anything?
Anakin was the man of your dreams. At some point, you start to wonder if destiny is what brought you two together, maybe an unknown force that bonds souls into a beautiful embrace. 
Back in his room, the smell of his dark duvet dissolved any trace of doubt and jealousy. He was yours, he truly was. Your hands slid under your sweater, touching your body. You feel on fire. Your skin is melting, imagining it’s his touch. Would his prosthetic hand feel cold against your nipples just like it feels every time he places a hand on your shoulder to thank you? Would his breath feel warm against your abdomen just like it feels when he leans closer to whisper about how funny Luke looks wearing his shoes?
The moan that escapes your lips isn’t loud, you are partially conscious of not waking the kids, though you can’t help it. Sliding down your jeans you slid a hand inside your panties, rubbing your clit in slow circles imagining his calloused, strong hands fingering you. Just using you. Using two fingers you curl them towards that spongey spot that makes you yelp and bite your lip in pleasure. The soft, wet sounds of your pussy fill the room as you pant, one hand yanking the pillow towards your face and inhaling it so deeply you groan against it. 
The delicious fantasy of his cock sliding in and out of you spirals you to heaven or hell. You want— need him to kiss you, bite you, even spit on you, anything.
Not even the faint sound of footsteps on the stairs rug brings you back to reality.
Anakin sighs, dragging his coat over the wooden floor, he feels so tired and all he wants is to take a hot shower and sleep. Not even the three drinks he had at the event were enough to dull his headache. He checks the kids’ room, smirking when he sees Luke hugging his favorite dinosaur plushie and Leia sprawled all over her unicorn blanket. 
He assumes you are sleeping in the guest room, that is until a tiny, barely discernible sound confuses him. Slowly approaching his bedroom, the tiny door gap makes him gasp silently.
There you are, beautifully spread out in his bed, wearing his sweater, and from what he hears, moaning his name.
How long has it been since someone moaned his name with such desire and passion?
Hesitant, he palms himself over his black trousers, his cock rapidly pumping and pulsing. He sees how your fingers curl, glistening with your arousal, and he wants to lick them clean. It is not the first time he has found himself thinking about you in a way he shouldn’t. 
He has been in the same position as you, but without the public, of course. Anakin feels ashamed of himself, for spying on you like this. A wave of embarrassment coats him every time he cums by his own hand, fantasizing about your pretty lips around his dick, how soft your skin must feel, how much he needs your weight on top of him, under him. He can’t help but let his eyes wander every time you bend over to clean the kids’ toys, your skirts leaving little to the imagination. How you place a hand on his arm and thank him for such a wonderful job. How he sees you packing up his lunch and helping Luke with his uniform, braiding Leia’s hair.
Anakin knows you would be a wonderful housewife, always attentive, always gentle. It doesn’t help that the twins absolutely adore you, constantly begging for your attention and talking wonders about you. Wonders he already knows. 
Unbuckling his belt, Anakin sighs relieved when he wraps a hand around his hard, thick cock. He fists his hand at the same pace you ride your fingers, your pretty face contorted with pleasure.
Anakin wonders what you are imagining, that makes you so deliciously wet. Are you thinking about him? He hopes you do. He begs heavens you are. No one else had permission to roam around your head. Anakin felt possessive over you, not even understanding why. He was scared of his own emotions from time to time, always so intense, so fierce, so unexpected, and uncontrollable. No one could ever match that energy, when his wife was alive, he had to take prescribed meds in order to keep his emotions in line, and even then it was difficult. 
People told him it was an obsession, but they were wrong. It was love, in its purest form. 
You moan his name again, this time a little bit louder. Anakin twitches at the angelical sound of it. You are absolutely breathtaking. He can’t control himself any longer. The urge to know how tight and wet you feel around him is eating him up alive. 
The door swings open and you choke back in surprise and shock. Your hand flees away from between your legs and your adorable eyes widen in sudden fear. Anakin thrills on it. Your eyes glance at his exposed member, rock-hard and leaking. You gulp, nervous.
“I—I’m sorry Mr. Skywalker I—” You stutter, mortified. You want to cry. Everything is about to crumble, right?
“You have no idea what you do to me” He breathes, almost pained. Speechless, you see how he walks closer, wasting no time to lay on top of you. “Fuck, you are so pretty with my sweater” He whines against your neck, inhaling your scent and his combined.
“Mr. Skywalker…” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him, quickly losing every concert and quickly falling back into the abyss of lust. 
“Anakin, call me Anakin” He pants against your skin as he licks your neck, rubbing his cock on your stomach. He whines at the friction, already sensitive. 
“Anakin” His name rolls off your tongue so sweetly it makes him twitch and you feel it. “Oh, please— please”
“Tell me what y—you want,” He asks, one hand sliding even further up his sweater, palming your breast. His rough fingertips pinch your nipple, making your back arch. “Because all I want right now is to fuck your pretty pussy raw”
The vulgar words he utters make you moan. Could this be a dream? In that case, you would never want to wake up.
“Fuck me, please, make me yours Anakin” You beg, tangling your hand on his dirty blond hair and yanking it. He moans at the pain, but quickly kisses you, forcing his tongue inside your mouth.
The second he slides inside of you, dragging his long cock and spreading you just like he dreamed of, Anakin realizes he’s doomed. He is now attached to you, captivated, enamored, haunted, by you. Your essence drowns him in the deep ocean of lust and obsession. The thin line between love and mania joins in a big, powerful ocean. His world now spins around you.
He fucks you as if his life depends on it. The skin-on-skin contact is too much. You look so gorgeous, tears falling down your cheeks from the euphoria. This is happening, this is happening, this is finally happening. 
Anakin kisses you, all teeth and tongue. The kiss is so sloppy you can feel his saliva running down the corners of your lip, not that you care, of course— He sneaks a hand down, this time abusing your clit with his fingers just like he is abusing your pussy with his cock. You clench around him and he’s a goner, blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fills you up seconds after you spam around him, touching heaven with the most mind-shattering orgasm you had ever experienced.
The way he cums it’s almost criminal. He fills you up and it drips out of you, staining his sheets. Anakin forgot the last time he came that much since all he did for the past years was fuck his hand until he cried from overstimulation.
“Stay the night,” Anakin says against your hair, wrapping his arms around you. The dense smell of sex fills the room, forcing you into a dizzy state.
“Yes, yes” You nod, eyelids heavy, and you place a hand on his bicep, puffing. “Anything you want” The smile on your lips it’s bright enough to light up the darkest room, and even though he can’t see it, he feels it.
Maybe he did find someone who could love him as much as he does.
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.
୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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what does it mean to die?
by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die? 
death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness? 
life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way? 
these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere. 
the disappearances, the murders, the deaths. 
it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that. 
and as of yesterday, mina ashidou. 
she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow. 
she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments. 
everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind. 
the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.
he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on. 
to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it. 
you’re not the same as you were before. 
he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones. 
that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading. 
whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death. 
eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.
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in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—
shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer. 
you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….
“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles. 
peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive. 
“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon. 
as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you. 
he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity. 
poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run. 
the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.
“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed.  “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.” 
this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.” 
“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.” 
“w-will you kill me?”
“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down. 
a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him. 
straight to the hilt. 
your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound. 
he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on  bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls.  it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him. 
kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.  
“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”
leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat. 
his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart. 
you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”
slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all. 
and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours. 
“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.” 
“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content. 
as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft.  you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art.   you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey. 
there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom. 
even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips. 
having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.” 
“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.  
his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him. 
“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”
he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.  
while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding  against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”
it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.
the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with  the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.
his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls. 
you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers. 
where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too. 
“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“ 
you truly are the fucking devil. 
though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.
“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.” 
cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him. 
the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“ 
“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou  grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”
the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the  redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls. 
equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts  you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top. 
“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter. 
but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”
you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?” 
“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”
it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right. 
if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?
“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”
gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet. 
“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.” 
“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…” 
even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”
all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.
the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers. 
but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you. 
he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back. 
he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided. 
“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“ 
with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?” 
of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything. 
and now, neither was kirishima. 
with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay. 
a life for a life. a death for the same price.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
Text
masterlist
i figured it was time to make one. it's in order based on when i wrote it. please, please let me know if a link is broken/mislabeled!!
*81 fics*
All of these are Jamie Tartt x reader
dress
Jamie and Keeley buy you a dress for the benefit gala
three times 'cause i've waited my whole life
secret relationship to engagement
you're losing me
first kid
don't make this any harder
Jamie wants to take you to Brazil, you’re both idiots
would hit him in a heartbeat now
Your ex boyfriend is a footballer and also a douche
silent sleepers
Jamie contemplates your relationship on the team bus
what it is
Jamie is sick ft. Roy
don't go wasting your emotion
Secret relationship + you own a bookshop! Ft. Roy and Keeley
you know, you'll always know me
You’re a famous singer! Congrats!
i don't know how you keep smiling/i'm just choking almost constantly
Jamie’s dad is a douche
i'll still be right next to you my dear
Jamie is a dad
can't really say i'm enjoying it now
Yikes it’s a breakup fic, but happy endings only in this house
mine of you with me
Reader and Jamie go semi-public with their relationship
today's a day like any other
The Tartt family thru the years
there's orange juice in the kitchen
Oof ouch period cramps
i can't breathe without you
Nate kisses you w/o consent
damned if i do give a damn what people say
You’re a theater actress! How exciting!
island made of faith
People think Jamie’s dumb, and he’s not
take your time while you're mine
You’re Roy’s other sister ft. all the Kents
honey, i'll give you all my time
Vienna. Enough said.
feeling fragile can't you tell
Jamie gets hurt
wrote all your lines in the script in my mind
Oh no! Some girl kissed Jamie and it wasn’t you! + Colin as the bff
stick together like glitter
Babysitting Phoebe + angst
your mind is not your friend
Angst + comfort after you have a bad hookup
chasing shadows in a grocery line
You’re pretty sure you have a hot stalker
don’t go yet
Tee hee protective Jamie at a club
kicking myself to keep from crying
The morning after your mind is not your friend
i think we could do it if we tried
High school sweethearts reunited after 6 years🥺
i’m glad you exist
You and Jamie go to a wedding
send for me
BREAKING: shit day at work made better by local boyfriend
tell me where to put my love
day off = food + snuggles
bored
The longest angst I’ve ever written. Def not the best angst I’ve ever written.
would it be enough if i never gave you peace
you’ve got baby fever and your pretty sure it’s going to kill your brother
wishing on every one
You own a flower shop. It’s adorable.
lyrical eyes, indigo smile
Bea meets the team for the first time!
something to rely on
You storm the pitch and smooch your bf
flipped the script
Enemies to lovers slow burn (or maybe fast burn, idk)
i fancy you
London Boy by ms. T. Swift
you don’t want to know me
Jamie shows up at your door after s.1 Man City
you’re in the kitchen humming
Post-Mom City
family that i chose
For the child-free girlies!
never wanted you to hate me
Pt. 2 of you don’t want to know me
wonderstruck
BFF Keeley tells you to give her awful ex a chance
in love with an idea
idk it’s like a confession of love? kinda cute
sinking into your worn-out mattress
Touch-deprived therapist! reader
you’re a mansion with a view
just two footballers doing an England promo, nothing to see here
i know what i’m doing
Post-Roy/Jamie locker room hug after Man City
wonder what it’d be like
Jamie tries to win you back
if only love were true
You’re a single mom in dire need of a plus-one
i know now it’ll pass
It’s hard to love someone when you’ve been told you don’t deserve it
the way it goes
The Greyhounds are protective of Jamie
how to love being alive
Idk this one’s like whatever and also supes long
there is happiness
GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE
it’s just wanderlust
Relationship soft launch
glitter on the floor
You like to knit. You also think you’re a comedian.
maybe tomorrow you’ll know
The “he’s a prick to everyone but her” trope
hustling for the good life
I swear this is my last chaptered fic
let’s fall in love for the night
Kent!reader is having a baby
soft hands hit the jagged ground
friends w/benefits
for you, there’ll be no more crying
anxiety at work + bf jamie
smile at me
there was only one bed!!!!
slow motion double vision in rose blush
happy b-day Jamie Tartt
half-moon eyes
it’s just a question!
can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)
I’m allowed to write what i want, ok???
here in my arms
more Kent!reader + a baby named George
coffee at midnight
prick coach wakes you up bc of your prick boyfriend
healing me fine
Just a lil engagement fic for ya
i don’t know anything
if you’re interested in Bea
right words at the right time
It’s a wedding fic
move fast and keep quiet
boxer!reader + smitten Jamie
not saying you’re in love with me
You meet over Bantr!!!
we could be so good
Jamie comforts you after a bad date
i hold it like a grudge
i don’t even know how to describe this one but u might cry
there for you
sick fic
before you go
physio!reader
you’ll probably date her
chronic illness + childhood friends. gotta love it
feel it burn
Gym anxiety
play it back
Old movies of bb Jamie
ours
Thanksgivinggggg
light in the hallway
MORE Kent!reader
stuck by you
Bad family + good Jamie = fic
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