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toji-girl · 2 months

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confessions | priest! s. geto

synopsis: He made a vow to God and was serious about keeping it, he never wanted to stray off the path of righteousness until he met you who he swore was a demon sent to seduce and tempt him, so he has to make sure you're not.

wc: 6.9k

tags: dark content + please heed this before reading +18+ ONLY content + minors and empty blogs DNI + modern au + repost from my old blog + this has been beta read + lots of religious themes because he’s a Priest and lots of sex talk and thinking about it + praising + sacrilegious themes + anthropolatry + body worship + virgin! Suguru (virginity loss) + corruption kink + desecration + sex in a confessional booth + edging + overstimulation + Father being used inappropriately + Satoru x you + Toji x you, breeding + female and male masturbation + fingering + spitting + dirty talking + unprotected sex + creampie + teasing + spanking + squirting + fellatio + dirty talking + cunnilingus + gagging obsessive behavior from Suguru and you + stalking + voyeurism + non-consensual recording + any missing tag lmk!

AN: this was posted such a long time ago but it has been heavily rewritten and edited - this was for a collab, can't remember who it was, but I know it was for this theme and after seeing a fanart of Suguru as a priest, and since he won my poll I knew he would fit this! he might be ooc to some so please remember!!

If anyone were to pass by Suguru’s office late at night they would hear the soft prayers, him begging God to stop the thoughts that were plaguing his mind over you, the woman who wormed her way into his brain like some sort of parasite, or perhaps you were a test designed to see if he would fail.

It was immoral the way he thought about how soft your body would feel underneath him. and it sure didn’t help when you came to Church dressed in your Sunday best, a tight dress that gave everyone just a hint of what lies beneath the cheap fabric.

You flaunted what God gave you. Well, that’s what you told Suguru when he raised an eyebrow, eyes roamed your body settling on your legs, legs that he thought about wrapped around his head more than once.

You haunted his dreams, soon bleeding into his daily thoughts when he was awake. Even in prayer, he would trail off thinking about you kneeling like the good girl you are under his desk, his cock slapping against your tongue in the most sinful ways, those thoughts would earn him more prayers.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, please, I just want to know how she would taste. That is all.”

Shame filled the priest as he stared into the mirror, looking at his dick throbbing under his cassock. Blood rushed to his cheeks when he hiked up the fabric, palming his erection wishing to God you were there.

It was something to relieve the tingle sitting heavy in his balls. Another thought of you on your knees, mouth open, tongue out and covered in his cum, your eyes glittering with the knowledge you corrupted him and a smile to boot.

Thoughts like his filled your head too as you humped your pillow or when you invited Toji over, your father’s friend and another member of the Church who often comes to your place to have you ride her strap, over and over again like the sinner you are.

You wanted to cry out your priest’s name instead when you finally came, pussy pulsing around Toji’s cock, it would be such a shame if Suguru could see you now; mouth hanging open, drool trickling down your chin with your fingers gripping on the leather fabric of the couch asking Toji to call you a bad girl and punish you because you deserve it, and who was he to disagree? After all, you’re sleeping with everyone but him.

Here Toji was fucking his best friend’s daughter, his fingers pinching your waist, slamming you back against him, and the way your back arched more into it, mewling like a cat in heat. It was a weekly occurrence letting him cum inside you, the feeling you soon became obsessed with.

Neither of you spoke about it, especially as you sat next to him the next morning, feeling your panties dampen from the quickie you had earlier in his car in the parking lot. He liked to keep his hand on your knee when no one was paying attention, or so he thought.

Suguru kept his eyes trained on you whenever you were around, but he never made it obvious, taking only small glances to make sure you weren’t doing anything that would get you in trouble.

Little does he know about the nights you would stay to pray for your sins, asking God to forgive you for the vile things you do only for you to get fucked on the pews by Toji who helped you light the candle and say a prayer for what just happened. It was a fun game you played with him, but your main focus was Suguru.

It was abominable to say the least, how your fingers ghosted over your clit at night, thinking of him above you, pinning your wrists down, grunting whilemercilessly drilling your needy cunt until you couldn’t think straight anymore.

It was an everyday thought that swam through your empty head. Most people called you airheaded but it was only because you thrived off the attention from the males who watched your eyelashes bat and lips pucker, crossing your arms over your chest, the attention was nice.

A tooth-rotting “Please?” was all it would take, especially for Toji who was quick to spread your legs and hike up your dress, pressing his tongue against your clit, feeling it throb in need, and watching your legs shake after the orgasm he just gave you, cum covering your thighs.

You felt wet and sticky as you sat down crossing your legs, listening to Suguru perform his sermon. His words flowed through one ear and out of the other, shifting in your seat, uncrossing just at the right time to let him get an eyeful of your soaked panties, making all his blood rush to his cock, so he had to excuse himself shortly afterward so he could go into his office and wrap his fist tightly around his shaft, fucking his hand as his life depended on it.

At first, he let his mind go blank, but then visions of you on his desk with your legs spread open, handcuffs on your wrists, and connecting to the ones on your ankles invaded his mind. That was exactly the way he wanted you to be. All the depraved things you could think of, Suguru had already thought of.

He lay down each night thinking of you before he fell asleep. All he wanted to do was cum in you once, feel your warm tight pussy milking him dry from all that he has to offer. The thought of you being a demon crossed his mind once when he first met you a few months ago. Your parents spoke about you after his services showing off your pictures.

His eyes slightly widened, taking in how beautiful you are. It was a shock when the first dirty idea popped into his head. Suguru dedicated his life to being a man of God, but the mere thought of hearing your moans brought him to his knees.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. Your parents told me all about you.” Was the first thing he told you months prior, reaching for your hand, shaking it softly while holding your curious gaze. The glitter in your eyes made him look twice in awe and wonder what that twinkle was.

It was the first time he thought about you being possessed because that’s the only way you would have such power over him from just one look, using your demonic charms on him, enticing him by wearing your short dresses, laying the charm on thick in order to seduce him.

For a response you giggled, looking sweetly at him, and his body reacted immediately to the sound of your voice, sending a shiver down his spine. And it was worse whenever he got a whiff of your perfume, following you like a dog, trying to ask you questions that seemed friendly.

All conversations never passed inappropriate because he wouldn’t want to be perceived as anything but an upstanding man of the Church, but that never stopped him cumming on his stomach and whimpering while fucking his fist, your name slipping out in breathy moans.

If Suguru heard you make the same noises he would surely cum on the spot, sending himself into overstimulation.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to pray away the guilt. It’s all wrong, and he knows it, but it’s human nature is what he tells himself when you come into his office on Sundays after service, holding a small bouquet of flowers that grows around town.

“Father? I just wanted to come in and say thank you for everything. You’ve shown me the light and I wanted to show you my gratitude.” You told him in a soft voice watching as Suguru leaned back smiling, holding his hand out.

“Come in. And thank you, that is very kind of you. How are you holding up with your job?” He asked curiously.

You sat across from him crossing your legs. “Thank you for asking, it’s been going well so far.”

It wasn’t unusual of him to ask you questions in small increments, hoping to learn your schedule. He just wanted to get to know you better.

Or was his behavior borderline something darker? Perhaps.

Maybe it was creepy to do so, but it wasn’t something he dwelled on for long before thinking of you bouncing on his cock, your hands on his shoulders struggling to take him all in at first, your whining about how big he is stroking his ego, sending his hips upward, impaling you deeper.

That was his favorite fantasy, that played over and over in his head like a movie until he noticed the way you sat closer to Toji, ghosting his knee with yours or the way you smiled so sweetly for him. Why don’t you smile for your Father like that? The thought enraged him at first because instead of him fucking you it was Toji.

Anger filled Suguru like hot liquid pouring into his veins. And he felt sick to his stomach every time he heard you giggling while grabbing Toji’s arm, looking at him with doe eyes.

There was nothing to be done about that, and still, he didn’t have an inkling that you made a late-night stop at the adult store looking for a dildo that would resemble what you think his dick looks like, pretty with a red flushed tip, thick and heavy, veins decorating the long shaft and heavy balls made for breeding that swung with each thrust of his hips. It was only that thought that made you achieve the blissful feeling of your climax.

You wanted to know what sounds he made when he came, knowing full well he’s never fucked anyone but his hand. The thought of corrupting him was exciting to you.

You waved and smiled at Suguru before sitting next to Toji. “Am I coming over tonight?” He asked, leaning in and whispering in your ear. You turned to him, giving his knee the same friendly squeeze.

“Yes, be at my place at eight.”

The only reason you still let Toji come over and fuck you is so you use your dildo later, pretending it was Suguru, fucking his cum back in your sloppy pussy. Something about the whole thing was a bit off, but you didn’t care when thinking of all the ways you could make Suguru confess his sins to you.

Your mind ran wild all during service, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head, resisting the urge to stick your hand between your legs, which would be frowned upon to do in Church, no less during service.

Later that night, you were on your back, with Toji on top of you panting and drooling over you like a dog. “Do you like that?” He grunted, holding your waist, kneading the flesh with rough hands. You cringed hearing him talk like that, his hands moving up to your breasts squishing them, movements growing sloppy. Your head hung off the side of the bed fisting the sheets.

Suguru watched the scene unfold in front of your living room window on the opposite side of the wall. Another strike off the list of things he never thought he would do. It wasn’t something he would ever admit out loud, too scared that someone would hear with their prying ears. Besides, you were supposed to be at your friend’s house.

That’s what he heard you tell your parents earlier when you declined their invitation for dinner, so stumbling upon this sight was the last thing that he expected.

Suguru accidentally found your address going through the visitor log you signed with your new address, finally out from under your parent’s roof after moving back home. That’s what he told himself, that finding out where you live just slipped up. No one would question him.

A frown tugged down his lips, watching the way your face showed nothing but boredom almost, not the look Suguru imagined when you were getting fucked. Was it him you thought about with each bounce of your body from Toji’s thrusts? There was no way that he was pleasuring you the way that Suguru could.

His eyes traveled down your naked body, zeroing in on the way his friend held your breasts, pushing them together. A groan escaped his lips, followed by pink-tinged cheeks as he walked past your window, keeping his raven head down.

Each Sunday you were sure to bring cookies of all sorts, and at every bake sale you helped set up, you captured the hearts of everyone, cooing about how sweet you are, dedicating time to do this.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I admire Father Geto and everything he stands for so I’m more than glad to help.” That always earned you brownie points and the, “Aw, that’s very precious of you.”

Would they say how precious you are if they found you on your knees in the closet with another member of the church?

Satoru loved when you held his wrist, dragging him in the cramped space, pressing his body against the wall, digging your manicured nails in the flesh of his thighs, relishing in the hissing sound he made driving his cock down your throat, gagging around him, earning the praise that you were so desperate to hear.

“Good girl. Just like that.” He moaned, grabbing a handful of your hair to anchor himself, watching his spit-covered cock slide in and out of your mouth, your eyes glassy playing with your clit under the skirt you wore just for him per his request. You didn’t pull away with a wet pop of your lips until you swallowed as much as you could.

Satoru was always quick to help you get on your feet, flipping up your skirt, making it easier for him to bend you over, fucking you from behind, filling not only your mouth but your cunt as well with a load of his cum.

Another prayer was said when you stepped out of the closet, bidding Satoru a farewell kiss before rounding the corner, and running straight into Suguru. You reached for his arms, steadying yourself. The feeling of his hand on the small of your back and his spicy scent that filled your nostrils made your pussy clench, pushing out Satoru’s cum, and smearing it against your panties.

“I didn’t know you were still here Father. I’m sorry.” You said bowing your head. Suguru chuckled, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“No worries. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I was just looking over the plans for tomorrow’s potluck. I’m making your favorite cookies. It’s still chocolate chip, right?” You asked batting those eyelashes of yours and those lips were perfectly pouty.

“Ah. Yes, it is. You have a good memory.” This ache sparked in his hand, wanting to reach out to feel how you felt under his touch. Were you thinking the same thing as you stared at him, eyes still glossy from the tears of your previous encounter?

“Father, I think I need to confess something.” Your voice came out as a whisper, stepping forward wrapping your fingers around the hidden rosary beads under his collar and pulling it free.

Suguru opened his mouth to answer but you were quicker. “Ah, Father. I was talking. I hope you weren’t going to interrupt me?” You asked mockingly, pursing your lips, forming a small pout. He shook his head watching your sticky lips from the smeared lip gloss and spit.

“Can I come and confess next Sunday?”

“Yes, I’ll see you then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Have a blessed night.” He grabbed his rosary from your fingers’ hold, careful not to touch you before tucking it back in his collar, leaning down with a slight smirk, “next time you attempt to touch me I’ll be sure to tie your wrists down.”

You could hear him chuckle to himself walking down the hallway, mentally giving himself a point.

It was shameless the way he flirted with you, but it felt freeing, giving the both of you masturbation material for later in the evening, him fucking his fist again in the shower, leaning against the wall, panting loudly, face screwed up in pleasure as he stood under the warm water, feeling it wash the soap away while your name spilled from his mouth, his hips stuttered spraying cum all over the tile grunting.

While you lay on your bed replaying the scene again, you thrust the dildo slowly, curling your toes, whining Suguru’s name, and arching your back. The need to have him between your legs lapping at your pussy, made you ache all over like the flu, hot and stiff muscles, mewling, trying to chase your orgasm, feeling the familiar sensation snap, sending your cunt into overdrive, pulsing around the toy.

Suguru woke each morning, adding an extra prayer when he looked in the mirror, getting ready. “I only want one thing, that’s to hear her whimper.”

It was sinful in many ways, the way he begged for just a scrap of something other than the polite tone you use with him. Everyone greeted him with a smile, only earning a meager wave and a solemn look on his face, but whenever he looked at you, his face lit up, and each time he prayed that nobody paid attention.

His only thought was you, it wasn’t just about the ways he wanted to have you, it was also how you were doing, the consuming thought of you in your kitchen, making his favorite cookies. It wasn’t something you had to do, but he’s been nothing but nice to you, and now with the promise of him tying your hands together lingering in the air, you were ready to do whatever it took.

Sunday morning, you were sure to wear the color that attracted his attention the most, white. A sign of you being pure and innocent, but he knew that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t a secret to him anymore, after him watching Toji fuck you on your couch, and after hearing Satoru confess about the quickie you two had the other day, when he thought that no prying ears were around.

Later that evening he heard you click the door shut and sit down, fixing your skirt. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” You began, clearing your throat and glancing over at the wooden window, through the small holes, watching him squirm in his seat. This is it, you thought, it’s all or nothing.

“I’ve been having premarital sex with two men. They attend the church. You know them. Toji Fushiugro and Satoru Gojo. I let Toji bend me over the pews a few times, holding my hips as he stretched me out with his cock. Then I would get on my knees for Satoru.” If you were to confess this to another priest, they would gasp, hearing the lewd way you describe your deeds, but not Suguru.

Your mind was running wild with the thoughts of your story. “Father? What should I do?” You whimpered, gripping your skirt, and rubbing your knees together.

“Touch yourself.” Suguru groaned, his voice straining to keep his composure. He shouldn’t be asking you such a thing for more than one reason.

You smiled and gasped loud enough for him to hear, feigning to be shocked by his request, but you obliged nonetheless without the slightest resistance, making his prayer come true. He heard the wood creak underneath you as you spread your legs, guiding your finger to your clit to rub the swollen bud with your middle finger.

“You want me to touch myself, Father? Should I slide my fingers inside? Do you want to hear how wet you make me?”

His cock twitched heavily in his pants running his palm over the bulge. “Y-yes, keep going.” He instructed hoarsely. Following his order, you splayed your lips open gathering your slick easily, thrusting your middle and index finger in your cunt, the wet sound filled the small booth.

The faster you went the harder Suguru’s cock got, aching to the point of pain. “Father, can I cum?” You were asking him for permission? The pure feeling he got coursing through his body tingled all throughout.

“Did you think about me when you were fucking them?” He asked, shutting his eyes.

“I did, yes. And when they left, I fucked myself with the dildo I bought after thinking of how big you were, stuffing their cum deeper in me, wishing it was you instead.” You whined softly wanting him to touch you.

Oh, this was much better than anything he’s ever experienced. It was a sin, but hearing you play with yourself next to him, everything that happened leading up to this point was worth it.

“S’close,” You moaned, grazing your fingertips against the abused swollen bud, triggering your orgasm and prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and; forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.”

“Amen,” Suguru muttered, feeling his balls release, sending thick ropes of cum in his boxers, covering his thighs making a mess.

“Say your Hail Mary before you go to sleep.”

You chucked checking a point off for yourself. “Goodnight Father. I’ll be sure to think of you tonight.” You told him, opening his door, sliding just your hand in, setting your panties on his knee, and giving him a soft pat. “I’ve masturbated in these to you many times.” With that, you left the booth heading home to say your Hail Marys.

Another week of misery. Your moaning playing on a loop in his head. Many times he almost slipped mid-conversation whenever you walked by him, letting his mind and eyes wander, and hoped that it wasn’t obvious to whoever he was talking to at the moment.

It wasn’t usual for him to catch you washing dishes after a potluck for someone’s birthday. “Thank you for staying and helping with the dishes,” Suguru told you, walking into the kitchen. “Father, good evening.” You smiled, glancing up at him from the sink, elbow-deep in dishwater. A smile stretched his lips back. Stepping further in, he walked around the counter, leaning against the edge, grabbing the dish towel, and drying the dishes you washed.

“How are you feeling since your last confession?” He asked in a low voice.

“I’m feeling a lot better. I plan on being back next Sunday at the same time. I’ve been very naughty Father.” You whispered looking at him.

Suguru’s cock throbbed watching you lick your lips. “How should I repent?” You asked, leaning forward, taking note of his rapid pulse.

“Say another Hail Mary and don’t touch yourself until your next confession.”

“That’s going to be tough.” You pouted, draining the water and then wiping your wet hands over your shirt, soaking the see-through fabric.

“Does that mean someone else can touch me?”

Suguru shook his head, still holding the plate in his hand leaning in as you did the same. “No. You can keep celibate for me, can you not?”

“Yes, Father.” You nodded, trying to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, the tension so thick it was beginning to become harder to breathe, being this close to him. Maybe an inch closer and your lips would press against his, and your cunt would graze his thigh, releasing some of the pressure building between your legs.

“Good girl.” Suguru pulled back, setting the dish towel down. “Have a good night.” He called out before leaving you alone to collect your thoughts, a heavy sigh accompanied with a soft whine left your lips leaning against the counter. You debated calling Satoru for a quickie, he didn’t live far from your apartment so it wouldn’t take him long to get there and help you out, but the thought of Suguru calling you a good girl played repeatedly in your head.

It wasn’t long before you broke your promise, letting Satoru lick your clit, his fingers splaying you open, both legs thrown over his shoulders, emitting loud slurping noises from eating you like a starved man, long fingers digging in your sensitive cunt.

Today you were greedy with how many orgasms you could get, so far you hit three just with his mouth. “Are you still cumming sweetheart?” Satoru asked, pulling away and looking up at you, chin glistening from spit and cum, reminding you of the last time you sucked him off. “Satoru, please, fuck me!” You whined wrapping your fingers around his biceps.

Your pussy hugged him tightly with each drag of his cock splitting you open, his fingers in the tender meat of your thighs keeping them spread apart. Each time his hips slammed against your ass your eyes rolled to the back of your head. When your eyes closed you imagined Suguru over you grunting instead, sweat rolling down his back rutting into you, over and over again, making you cream around him.

By now Satoru knew the routine, leaving with a small awkward hug, his feelings growing deeper for you each time you shed your clothes for him, but he didn’t know about your obsession with Suguru, nor about how it was growing deeper with each passing day. Toji also shared the same feelings as Satoru.

It was hard not to. The way you treated them so sweetly and of course, everyone else too. Sure you were a little empty-headed, but that didn’t matter each time you bounced on their cocks.

No other girl would dare do something so vile, ruining their chance of getting a good husband, but you didn’t care, because the feeling of an orgasm was something that couldn’t be compared to something such as exchanging rings.

You said your prayers every morning and night, to disperse the feeling of guilt nipping at your ankles, it was wrong to defile yourself and all your beliefs, but in the end, you’re only a person with needs.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself anyway, sliding up your skirt in the bathroom stall, pulling your panties down, and letting Toji thrust in you later that afternoon.

His hands are on your waist holding you against the wall, rutting in you. It was fruitless at this point, having him or Satoru fuck you, your face giving away the boredom you felt. Toji cleared his throat as he pulled out. “You know, you could seem a little bit interested.” He said clearly pissed that you weren’t even acting like you liked it.

“I’m sorry,” You replied, putting your hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been going through a lot lately, but why don’t you give me a call later?” With a chaste kiss on his cheek, you left him in the bathroom stall after pulling your panties up, walking out frowning. There was this pit in your stomach that was slowly growing bigger, it first started when you met Suguru, and now months later, all your thoughts were of him.

Everything about this whole situation was wrong. You knew it but it never stopped you.

Sunday evening, you opened the booth, settling on the creaky wooden bench, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips. Suguru placed his hands in his lap waiting for you to begin. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was a week ago.”

He wouldn’t admit to knowing that you sinned after shamelessly watching you pump your dildo in and out of your wet cunt, learning that you were a squirter.

The only reason he knew that was because after his plan was hindered the other night by you being home, he chose another time to come back. Luckily, the neighborhood you live in is not very frequented, so no one saw him creep in and out of your house. Unbeknownst to you, he installed cameras all over your house, obsessed with knowing how you spent your days, and how, and with who, you spent your nights.

It wasn’t the first time that he masturbated to you, but unlike the other times, now he could actually see you, and there was something about invading your privacy that aroused him beyond comprehension, it felt so wrong and yet so right.

He never came so hard before, shooting thick ropes of cum everywhere, feeling like he was about to pass out from the intensity of his orgasm. Weak and panting, it wasn’t long before he drifted to sleep, hand, and chest still covered in sweat, spit, and cum.

“I touched myself, and I let them touch me again. Their fingers and tongues fucking me. I wished it was your cock I was on instead. Your cum filling my cunt, leaking out, and making a mess. Would you fuck me, Father?” Your last sentence came out whiny, as you spread your legs stroking your cunt.

Suguru’s breath trembled as he copied your actions, before grinding the heel of his palm against his erection. “I would.” He admitted with a heavy sigh.

Your fingers slipped in your cunt, curling. There was no way it would bring you the pleasure that you truly craved. “I want you to touch me, please. What do you think I feel like?” You asked, wanting to hear him submit to your sinful ways.

“Your skin, soft and supple. Your pussy, wet and warm, pulsing around my cock. Your mouth, the same way as I fuck your throat.”

His words felt like an electric shock coursing through your blood, pooling in your cunt, making your walls restrict your fingers, on the verge of an orgasm already, your breathing becoming erratic.

“It usually takes you a while to climax, doesn’t it?” He asked, bunching the fabric of his cassock in his free hand, the other wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, edging himself.

“I-it does yes, but when I envision you, I usually cum right then.” You were quick to admit it, but he would be lying if he said that the same thing didn’t happen to him. Thinking of his face between your breasts tightened his balls.

“Tell me, what do you think about in these fantasies, when thinking about us?” He asked stroking his dick from base to tip making sure to twist his wrist.

“How your cock would feel inside. I think you have the biggest one I could lay my eyes on, and it’s thick too. Just tell me if I’m right Father, because I’m imagining the way I would struggle to take you all the way in, squealing, splitting myself open on you. And when you climax, it’s a lot and very thick coming from heavy balls made to breed, would you like to do that? Pump all your cum inside my pretty pussy? Holding my hips down, making sure that I keep still so every drop isn’t wasted?”

Words couldn’t formulate in his brain, drunk on the thought of what you just described, burned into his mind. He never thought about having children after his vow of celibacy, but now, it was all he could think about. Your whimpers grew louder, echoing through the empty Church as you neared your orgasm.

“Stop!” Suguru demanded, roughly surprising you as he stood up unbuttoning his cassock and then heading to your booth. There was no stopping what was going to happen next. Both of you have been waiting for this moment since the first time you laid eyes on each other.

Your eyes widened, taking in his naked chest. It was visible that he has broad shoulders, but what you didn’t think about was how he still stayed in shape. Saliva pooled in the corner of your mouth as it hung open. Greedy hands tugged his boxers down, freeing his cock hearing how it slap against his abs.

“I was right, thick and long.” You murmured watching him kick the door shut leaning his arm against the wall above your head while looking down at your fingers wrapping around his shift.

Suguru chuckled darkly, yanking your shirt up, freeing your tits. “No bra… Did you think tonight was the night you seduced me?” He asked, bucking his hips at your touch, a small whimper leaving his mouth.

You laughed, looking up at him. “Seduce and corrupt you Father. It’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Has it now? Why-” He was cut off, feeling your lips wrap around his head, tongue curling under the most sensitive part, suckling, your hand cupping his balls gently, squeezing them. Suguru’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, digging his nails in the palm of his hand when you went further down, struggling to take him.

Slowly you bobbed your head up and down, keeping your fist wrapped around him, jerking him off, adding more drool making it easier and messier.

You gagged, feeling tears spring to your eyes. Looking up, you saw the look of sheer pleasure gracing his face, the sounds of you slurping around him roaring in his ears. It was so much better than his hand, your soft mouth warm and tight, the best thing he’s ever fucked.

He watched you pull away with a wet pop of your lips, using your spit as lube to jerk him off, pressing your thumb over his slit, slightly pressing in.

“Am I doing a good job, Father?” You asked, batting your eyelashes, glancing up. Suguru nodded his head, groaning.

“You are, but I want a taste of you now.”

It was a sight to see him drop to his knees in front of you, putting both hands on your knees, pushing your legs open, your bare pussy on display like a meal for him to devour. But before that happened, Suguru wanted to take his time. Setting the mood, pressing small kisses, he grabbed your ankle, letting your foot dangle off his shoulder.

You watched his lips leave a wet trail up your thighs, ghosting across your pussy, barely fluttering his tongue over your clit, kissing the same places down your other leg. He chuckled, feeling you squirm under his touch. “What’s so funny?” You pouted.

“I’ve barely touched you and I see your cunt dripping.”

You sucked a breath between your teeth, feeling him spread your lips apart, looking at the innermost part of your pussy, your arousal very apparent, coating your thighs and the bench below your ass.

“I’ve thought about what my cum would look like leaking from all of your holes. Have you ever let a man fuck that tight ass?” He asked, moving his hand away, trailing the tip of his finger up and down your slit, groaning as he watched the way you clenched around nothing.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good. I’ll be the first then, but we’ll save that for later. For now, I can’t wait to know what your cunt tastes like.” He growled, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder, burying his tongue in your cunt, eagerly lapping, completely ignoring your fingers tugging on his blonde roots, and grinding against his mouth.

At this point it was no longer for you, he was eating you for his own pleasure.

Cum soaked his thigh, as he came desperately trying to fit his tongue in your tight hole. “Father!” You moaned, squeezing his head with your thighs, humping his face as you grabbed two handfuls of his long hair.

Suguru slid two fingers inside you, slowly pumping while wrapping his tongue around your clit, working both of them together, feeling you clench around him. This is better than his fantasies, he thought, finally hearing you moan for him, begging for release.

Pulling out he watched your clit throb from the orgasm that he ripped away. “Why did you stop?” You whined, fucking yourself on his fingers, making him chuckle again.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He mocked, adding in another finger.

Hearing the squelch, his balls tightened again, thrusting his fingers in and out, lapping up your juices from his hand. “You’re so perfect, the way your pussy is fluttering on the edge of release. I want to show you how good it feels to cum on my cock. Are you ready?”

All you could manage was a weak nod, your body feeling hot and tingly with each thrust of his fingers, stroking the fire deep in your stomach until it was too much to handle as you came around him, his mouth replacing his fingers, licking up your cum, softly digging his fingers in your thigh, covering your skin with your slick, both of you panting heavily looking at each other. “Who knew you were such a pro?” You teased cupping his cheek.

Suguru pressed a wet kiss to your palm as he stayed on his knees, dragging the hem of your dress up to your waist. The tension between the two of you, and the look you shared, weighed heavy on the unspoken rule of what’s to come, once he crosses the line of fucking you.

The line was crossed the first time he had inappropriate dreams of you, so he didn’t spare a second thought when he fisted the base of his cock, guiding it to your waiting pussy.

You were barely seated on the wooden bench when Suguru held your hips, pressing his cock in. A whimper left your lips, feeling his head slip past your soft muscles. Each inch that slid in made you feel impossibly full and he was only halfway in. “Oh my God, you’re so big!”

Hearing that stroked his ego, both of you gasping once he bottomed out. He held your hips, rutting against you, sliding in and out. Each time he would pull almost all the way out and then slide in slowly. Your back arched, clinging to him, trying to squirm away at first from him stuffing you, it was a mixture of pain and pleasure, feeling this full.

Leaning forward, Suguru trailed kisses across your chest and clavicle, nibbling the skin, lazily fucking you, his mind turning into a puddle the closer he got to cumming.

It frustrated him knowing he was this close already. His eyebrows furrowed, feeling the sweat roll down his face, not only from how hot it was in the cramped area but also the fact that he was desecrating something so sacred while worshipping you, his words bleeding into your skin.

“I always knew you were a good girl.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love it when you squeeze me like that.”

“You’re doing such a good job.”

“Moan louder for me sweetheart. Let me know how much you like fucking me.”

“Keep going!” You begged sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck, bucking your hips, the both of you desperately fucking each other. Movements became harder and sloppier, the noises went from sighs and moans to something completely animalistic. You snarled each time you felt his balls slap against your ass. He held your waist helping you bounce up and down with the heels of your feet pressed against his tight ass cheeks.

“You’re so wet. Do you hear how wet you are for me? You’re being such a good girl for me… I don’t want to let go now that I’ve had a taste of you.” He growled, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, fucking you from below.

It was heavenly, the way your cunt hugged his cock like a vice grip, the feeling was indescribable, nothing could ever compare to the way you clung to him, mewling like a cat in heat, burying your head in the crook of his neck, rolling your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone.

“I’m so close. Want you to cum in me, Father. Breed me, please!” You begged, pulling away with wet eyes, bouncing harder, feeling your nipples rub against the blonde hair littering his chest.

You’ve never felt this way before, the way you ground on him shamelessly without a care in the world, it didn’t matter that he was your priest or that you took his virginity in his confessional booth.

“We’re both going to have to pray after this.” You murmured in his ear, smirking. Pink crept in his cheeks. He muttered a response, something you didn’t hear nor did you care to.

You kissed him, parting his lips with your tongue, tasting him greedily. It wasn’t every day that you got to fuck your priest, nor did you get to feel him hold your hips, slamming down, impaling you on his dick.

Suguru felt your orgasm hit, tipping him into his own, spraying ropes of cum against your cervix, whimpering in your neck about how good you feel, his hands massaging your waist, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“How do you feel now?” You asked, slicking his blonde hair back gazing into his hazel eyes.

“Like a brand new man.” He answered, smiling softly at you.

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tnsophiaonly · 9 months

Text

"Thy should learn its place."

"It is beneath me."

The Creator scoffed at an annoyance, the fact that someone dared to use her gene blessed to mortals for their own advantage?! Out rageous! But her connection to the realm has been disconnected from Celestia thyself. They dare challenge their Creator?

Challenge accepted.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Liar Reader. SAGAU. Cult AU. Impostor-ish AU. OOC. Manipulator Reader.

—e—r—a—w—a—n—U—

The same looking figure as you was talking to Kujou Sara. Really unfortunate.

So the plan to avoid characters at all causes, yeeted to Celestia.

What do you do?! What do you do?!?!

Wait, just go back to where you are and leave with your boat!

You were about to walk away when...

"Halt! Show yourself, intruder!"

Kujou Sara commanded and took out her bow and put the '(S/M)' behind her as a sort of protection.

Well. Shit.

You walk out of your hiding place and despite the fact that Kujou Sara dropped her weapon a little bit, you could feel her guard is still on.

"State your name and purpose!" Kujou Chic- Sara demanded. Geez was she always this loud? Man her vocal cords must hurt, her own issues meh.

"Akeldama Kagema, I am an adventurer. I came here for a commission." You lied smoothly, keeping up a facade of a serious and hardworking.

Kujou Sara eyes you up and down. 'Strange, why do I feel a divine like aura on this stranger...?' Kujou Sara thought quietly, unbeknownst to her guard dropping.

(S/M) chuckled awkwardly, gaining your and the yokai's attention

"So, Kagema-chan, what exactly is your commission?" Wow. No formalities? Straight up -chan and comfy? You keep up your facade.

"I had to take care of a hilichurl camp." You lied explained. (S/M) seemed skeptical of your answer, "Just a hilichurl camp? That's your only commission..?" Clearly she knows nothing about the Adventurer's Guild does she..?

"Only in Kannazuka. I still have other commissions on other islands of Inazuma." You cleared things up.

"Ohh! I get it!" (S/M) sickly sweetly said in false fascination.

"By the way. Kagema-chan, I noticed that you're bruised and your clothing doesn't really seem adventure-like!" Perceptive people suck but are also hot. "I am very aware of my clothing choice but it's the only clothing choice I have. But it didn't cause a hindrance or whatsoever." You lied replied professionally.

Before (S/M) could speak, Kujou Sara unconsciously cut her off. "I'll patch this stranger. I can't trust this stranger to be anywhere safe with you (S/M). You are after all an oracle and the only person that's personally connected to the creator. You should visit the Kamisato Estate for some early discussions regarding the festival and ritual for the creator."

"Ohh yeah!" (S/M) says in realization, and her face turns red, 'Ayato...' She thought quietly. She then faces the both of us and bows down. "May the Creator guide you!" She says in a hurry and runs away.

Oracle? She- she already took the role of an oracle? Fuck! Now what're you going to do... Maybe just act like an adventurer? Yeah...

You were thinking deeply, unknown to your surroundings of someone watching you. "Akeldama, is there something wrong?" Finally formalities! Kujou Sara asks in either suspicion or worry.

"I'm fine. I was just shocked about the news of an oracle..." You clear things up. Kujou Sara nods, "I totally understand you, I, first, did not acknowledge her, until, I felt myself being awakened." That was just a coincidence, or was it?

Awakened? What does she mean by that..? "Ah.. you don't seem to have a vision.." Does she mean pulls?

"It's when shooting stars in the sky get a color of gold or purple which will give you a connection to the creator. It's like wishing for fate." Kujou Sara explained. So it is pulls.

"Ah. Now I'm kind of envious of you vision holders. Getting your own personal connection with the creator sounds like a dream come true isn't it..? It almost feels like, she'll give you everything to just get you all acolytes a connection to the creator hmm? It's a really really special deal.." You became out of character from your facade.

Kujou Sara's eyes widen at your statement, she's never thought of it as that special as you do. It's as if she's not pledging her utmost devotion to The Creator! You're right.. the probably only reason The Creator hasn't awakened every vision acolytes is because they might have been growing weaker in the other world and that's why she sent an oracle now because she wanted to see what we personally feel. Oh she apologizes very much, does she need to sacrifice and do something about it?!

You hid your smirk. Kujou Sara seems bothered... Guess your statement got her mind to chicken in.

Now you just wonder what challenges you'll face at the acolytes you haven't awakened yet.. you'll find out soon.

This chapter is short for a reason 😔. 1. I couldn't do anything until next week to see what lies beyond the poll.. and also because I didn't want to write for others in this specific chapter.

I'm so sorry for being lazy ig 💔

Anywho. VOTE IN THE FIRST PART NOW CAUSE THE DEADLINE IS NEXT FRIDAY!!! Just know that the most popular given mask has its own ability that'll help you out in future conflicts!!!

Taglist: (?)

@khalhaimdad @yourlocalstranger123 @undecidingfate

#genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #impostor au #genshin impact #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact x female reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x y/n #female reader #reader

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brabblesblog · 3 months

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐𝘵𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Two months after their first year as the Ascendant and his consort, Astarion hatches a plan to bring him and his beloved closer.

Now professionally edited by @editing-by-night Originally beta'd by @leomonae and @kringle-c

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Ban and Astarion by @redreart

Astarion exited the carriage, scanning his surroundings before approaching the shop in front of him. The storefront looked worn; one would even think it abandoned, if not for the slightest trace of movement visible through dust-covered windows. There wasn’t any indication as to whether the shop was open.

He looked up at the sign, at the barely legible lettering on it; the paint was chipped and faded, an obvious victim of neglect. A small sigh escaped his lips. Glasscraft and Son.

Ban Glasscraft. That was all she had deigned to tell him the day they’d met; she had been cagey about her past ever since. In his efforts to seduce her he’d tried to ask her the usual, vapid questions, but had gotten nothing in return. Those were the only inquiries he never got a response to, but at the time he hadn’t really cared. She’d just smile and change the topic and he’d allow it; after all, the goal was to win her favor, not to actually get to know her.

And then what were lies had become truth, but by then there hadn’t been enough time.

His knuckles rapped against the door.

“Have a seat, Lord…” The older gentleman trailed off, watching Astarion stand by the proffered stool.

Astarion eyed the seat warily. “Ancunín.” It looked dingy, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to subject his trousers to it. “I’m perfectly fine where I am, thank you.”

The man nodded. He took a seat in front of his desk, gnarled hands picking up a leather tome. He offered it to Astarion, who approached and took it with no small amount of hesitation at the sight of its stained cover.

“In there’s all of our designs,” the man said. “You can have the frame inlaid with gold or sil-”

“Gold. Silver doesn’t complement my complexion,” Astarion said airily, adopting the manner of a mildly bored nobleman flawlessly.

“Master…”

“Glasscraft, my lord. Roderich Glasscraft.” Roderich stood and came closer; he was bald, a whole head shorter than Astarion, and as he tilted his head to peer at the book Astarion lowered it so that he could see.

“Yes, well.” Roderich tapped one of the mirrors illustrated on the page Astarion had opened the book to. “This is a little dated, design-wise. But it would still look rather beautiful, I think, in the appropriate home.”

Astarion thought the mirror looked relatively contemporary, but didn't comment. Instead, he pointed at the illustration with his index finger. “How much would one of those be, Master Glasscraft? Inlaid with gold.”

Roderich hemmed and hawed, unsure. He hadn’t sold a single full-mounted mirror in what felt like years. He didn’t remember much, didn't want to, really, not after…

Best not to think of that.

“Six, seven thousand?” he surmised. “I could accept a deposit-”

Astarion waved him off. “I’ll be paying in full.”

Roderich stared at him for a long second, shock upon his face. He recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Very well, Lord Ancunín. I shall draft up the quotation and the work order this instant. May I know where this mirror is to be delivered?”

“The Crimson Palace,” Astarion began, reaching into his pocket to pull out his pouch. “A little north of-”

“The - what’s it now?” Roderich frowned. “I’ve never heard of that place.”

A pregnant silence filled the shop. Normally the name of their home would have been enough; people had heard the news of Cazador Szarr’s erstwhile estate falling into the hands of a certain Lord Astarion Ancunín, who had been firmly referring to it as the Crimson Palace. Roderich Glasscraft, however, seemed to have missed that tidbit.

Resisting the urge to snap, Astarion took a small breath. Just because he no longer loathed hearing his former master’s name didn’t make it particularly pleasant to mention him.

“The former Szarr Mansion,” he provided, terse.

Roderich paled. “The - Szarr Mansion. Cazador Szarr?” While he’d never been the most informed person, Roderich had heard whispers about that nobleman - whispers of dark, decadent parties, of hushed disappearances.

Add to that the fact that Cazador Szarr had been the only nobleman in Baldur’s Gate to never have purchased a mirror from Glasscraft and Son - nor from any other mirror maker.

Whispers, just whispers. But Roderich couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine.

“Yes, the very same property.” Astarion made a show of inspecting his fingernails, feigning nonchalance. He gathered that the man before him had probably not heard about the change in ownership of the palace - and how could he? If the condition of the shop was any indication, he doubted this man had ever done anything other than sit here.

“I’ve… inherited the mansion, upon his passing,” he remarked lightly, “and have renamed it to the Crimson Palace. I would appreciate it if you were to use that name from now on.”

“I- yes, my lord, of course.” Roderich bowed effusively. He realized belatedly that the man before him was unusually pale, with bright crimson eyes. He hadn’t seen his mouth open widely enough to determine the presence of fangs, thank the gods, but was that-

A small, circular scar on the man’s neck, barely visible above the lip of his shirt collar.

Roderich almost wanted to scream, but one thing held him back: it was daytime, and he’d seen Lord Ancunín exit his carriage and walk into the shop, hadn’t he?

Astarion tilted his head at the man, hearing his heartbeat spike. He knew the sound all too well - the sound of cornered prey. He wasn’t here for that, of course, and quickly figured out a way to assuage the man’s worries before Roderich had any chance of ruining his plans.

His hand reached into his breast pocket, pulling out a small mirror. He peered into it, angling himself so that Roderich could clearly make out Astarion’s reflection in the glass.

Astarion sighed, sweeping away nonexistent curls as if they had fallen into his eyes. “Thank you, Master Glasscraft. When can I expect the mirror to arrive?”

The sight of the man’s reflection calmed Roderich. He took a breath. “In two tendays, my lord. Possibly sooner, depending on how sourcing the materials goes.”

“Very well,” Astarion drawled, putting his mirror away. He couldn’t help himself and shot Roderich a grin that was a little too wide, revealing the very tips of his fangs for a split second. “Are you able to do it in one? Of course, you will be handsomely compensated for the inconvenience.”

He needed the mirror delivered when Ban wasn’t home; he knew she’d be in Rivington for most of that day, meeting Shadowheart.

Roderich didn’t miss the bright flash of sharp teeth, shuddering. He felt a bit bad; obviously this Lord Ancunín wasn’t what he thought he was, with both walking in the sun and having a reflection.

“It can be done, my lord,” he said, a little too quickly.

Coin changed hands, then Astarion left the shop with the contract.

The moment he arrived home, Astarion rushed to their study. Heading to his desk, he stuffed the contract into a drawer.

“You don’t even say hello to your wife anymore?” a voice called out, and he slammed the drawer shut, momentarily panicked. He turned to face her, rearranging his features into something resembling composure.

“Saw the carriage arrive,” Ban added by way of explanation; she’d watched him march towards their study like a man on a mission. A rather curious sight, one that piqued her interest, but she put off questioning him about it for now.

“Ah - well. I wanted to put work aside as fast as possible,” he stammered out, approaching her and wrapping his arms around her waist in one swift move. “So I could… ”

He nuzzled into the top of her head, inhaling deeply, inwardly begging himself to calm down. “Mm. So I could focus on my dearest darling.”

“You’d get away with a lot less, you know, if you weren’t so-” The words died in her throat as a hand traveled south from her waist to the curve of her ass, squeezing it.

He looked down at her with half-lidded eyes. “If I wasn’t so… what? Care to finish that thought, love?” Teasing, light. He knew she’d noticed his poor attempt at hiding the contract, but hoped he could at least distract her from prying further right now. He tried to herd her back out the door and hopefully to their bedroom.

“Roguish,” she provided, “handsome, dashing…”

“Keep going,” Astarion smirked. They made it past the doorway, Ban walking backwards. He gently crowded her against the wall of the hallway, caging her with his arms.

She stared up at him, considering what to say next. He was nervous, that much she could tell - as if there was something he wanted to hide, yet despite himself was also begging for her to see.

Free me. Find out, so I don’t have to keep lying.

“Sweetheart,” she began. The words were on the tip of her tongue, to ask him what was wrong; but there was that look in his eyes that said not now, please, and so she didn’t push, opting for playfulness instead. “You really think you can handle all the words I have to describe you with?”

“Try me.” He attempted to lean down for a kiss, laughing when she dodged it and slipped out from under his arms. As much as he was doing this to hide the contract from her, he was also enjoying himself.

“Let’s see. Pompous. Mischievous. Conceited… Do you still want me to keep going?” She began rattling off words, raising a finger at each, as if counting them off. She ke[t walking backwards as he advanced on her, but not towards their bedroom.

The servants all murmured greetings as they passed; they both ignored them.

“Alright, you’ve had your fun,” Astarion countered, a brief flash of fangs visible as he grinned at her. He noticed her taking a left and he tilted his head, curious. He didn’t question it, though, simply following her as she rounded the corner of the hallway, leaving enough distance to properly give the impression of prowling after her.

Ban reached the double doors at the end of the hallway, pushing them open to head out to the gardens.

“Here?” Astarion said, more amused than anything. The groundskeeper approached them, weary eyes immediately recognizing his masters’ intent. He quickly snapped a command to the other gardeners to clear out.

She watched them go, then made her way to sit on the stone bench beside the fountain. “Why not? This place is ours, no? We’re afforded privacy here.”

As the doors were shut behind them he rounded on Ban, the dangerous glint in his eye unmistakeable. He arched an eyebrow. “Honestly, I wouldn’t care if they saw us - if anyone saw us.” He knew she did, though, if only slightly more than he, and for her sake he took one last cursory look around the garden, finding no other soul present.

With their privacy assured he straddled her, his weight settling comfortably on her muscled thighs, lips moving to press against hers. The smell of the roses, of the freshly trimmed grass mixed with scent of her skin - altered, but still the same - stirred some memory in him; his hips twitched and his eyes fell shut. There was still that fear, that worry that she’d obviously seen through what he was trying to do, but Astarion reassured himself he’d tell her anyway. Soon.

Whenever soon ended up being, anyway.

He didn’t want to risk this yet, their endless days of seemingly nothing but happiness, the hours of bliss seeming likely to stretch on into eternity.

“Lie down,” he murmured to her, completely missing that impish grin and the look that crossed her face. As she began to shift under him he let his body follow suit, ready for what would come next-

He felt himself lose his balance, his weight shifting off-center as something shoved him, and he managed a strangled gasp as he landed in the fountain.

He landed on his ass; the water was freezing. His undead body wasn’t harmed by it, but it still felt unpleasant. He sat, clothes now drenched and his hair sopping wet. Indignation filled him; the first thing he wanted to do was scold her, but begrudging amusement won out.

“What was that for?” He looked down at his clothes, his ivory shirt soaked. So much care taken not to dirty them at the shop, only for them to end up drenched in fountain water, anyway. No harm done, but still.

Above him, Ban stod, laughing. She reached out, offering him a hand. Her laughter was infectious; he found his lips forming a smile before he could stop them. Still, he took the proffered hand and let Ban yank him up onto his feet. Astarion stood there for a moment, admiring her strength, then groaned as he belatedly realized that his shoes were also waterlogged and likely damaged.

“Sorry,” she said, although she was anything but. “I think another word would suit you here - gullible.”

For a moment Astarion scrambled for something to say. I could have dissolved! came to mind, but he thought that would only add to her malicious joy. Instead, he opted for disarming her; his hands found the laces of his shirt, and he began to untie them slowly. He let his fingers linger on the exposed skin, allowing her time to savor the sight.

“You ruined my clothes,” he snapped with feigned indignation, fingers still unraveling the laces with a painful lack of speed as he kept his eyes on his prize. “I think some… compensation is in order.”

“As if you don’t get it every single day, Astarion,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. A little seed of concern took root at his words, ones which sounded all too familiar and all too like his former views on sex. She scanned his face and found that yes, he was just playing here, the twinkle in his eyes telling her he was alright.

He smirked. “True,” he acknowledged. With the laces loose he pulled the sopping shirt over his head, tossing it at her to catch her off guard. It smacked her in the chest with a wet splat, then fell to the ground.

He stepped over the lip of the fountain and onto grass, the squelch of his shoes unwelcome and unpleasant. Leaning down to take them off, he sighed softly as he slipped them off and set them by the bench. “Those shoes were wyrmhide.”

“Are wyrm-hide,” she corrected. “They’ll be fine. Don’t be so-”

The rest of her words were swallowed by his mouth. In a heartbeat he had closed the gap, devouring her lips, hands grasping her ass and kneading. All thought disappeared at the feel of Astarion suddenly being everywhere, and Ban let a small, choked gasp escape her.

He pulled back enough to peer at her face. “You were saying?” he purred, smug. He always knew exactly how to derail her train of thought, a talent that he had admittedly abused in the past. Nowadays he merely uses it to tease…

Well. Maybe he was using it to distract her from the contract. Astarion considered this a necessity at the moment, however, at least until he was ready to approach her with the information.

Besides, he knew she saw through most of his guile now. Ever since they’d reconciled, her perception had only been increasing - vulnerable as that made him feel, there was also a sense of joy at being seen again.

“I was going to say quit whining,” Ban replied, although the intended effect was lost with how breathy the words came out. Astarion’s eyes crinkled in genuine mirth, and he took her hips, moving her around to face the bench.

She’d let him win this round, she thought. Probably.

He growled against her ear. “Make me.” There was no real bite to the words, only sensual challenge. As he nudged her forward she took a step back towards him, pressing her ass against his clothed cock. He hissed, the fingers on her hips digging in hard; a small, playful warning.

“Seems like I already did.” Ban slowly undid the laces of her trousers, huffing in satisfied amusement at the sound of his low groan behind her. The hands on her hips aided her in pushing her trousers and underwear to her ankles, their movements clumsy and rather impatient.

Every inch of the firm, muscular ass that was revealed made Astarion’s already miniscule amount of restraint decrease. He lowered himself, sitting on his haunches, fangs already bared. All thought of the contract, of his worries, were temporarily gone - all he saw was that expanse of skin and the thought of the delectable heat that laid hidden between her legs. He pressed a kiss to one ass cheek, and let his fangs drag against the supple skin, a quiet request for permission.

Her lips curled into a small smile. “You may, sweetheart,” she said; and the moment the words left her she felt the sharp sting of fangs, sinking into the meat of her ass. A gasp escaped her lips as Astarion tore further into her flesh, the pain exquisite. She felt the soft suction of his mouth as he fed; the fingers digging into her hip traced a meandering path along her skin and raised goosebumps in their wake, before slipping between her legs to find her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth and those fingers caressing her there made her instinctively bend over, hands gripping the stone bench and elbows locking to keep herself stable.

How annoying, really, that all her husband had to do to waylay her plans was this - not that she was complaining. Whatever it was that he’d attempted to keep hidden wouldn’t be hard to find if need be, seeing as she’d seen him shove it in the drawer. Moreover, she did plan on asking him about it after this little tryst. But for now…

He licked off the last rivulets of blood; languidly lapping at her wounds in long, slow strokes, then stood back up. He took in the view of Ban bent over, so obviously wanting him. The thought, of course, went immediately to his cock, his hand absently ghosting over the bulge in his trousers.

The thought of taking her here in the garden, in nature, brought forth a flash of memory: that night in the clearing, when they had first been together. The thought made him wistful; his lips curled in a smile.

“Taking your time?” Ban teased, curious at the sudden pause in Astarion’s movements. He worked his own trousers off without ceremony, the quiet sounds of his belt being unbuckled and the rasp of damp cloth against skin the only noise as he pushed what was left of his clothing down and off.

Now completely nude, Astarion approached her, pressing his cock along the cleft of her ass. “Just remembering something,” he said, voice rather somber. Ban immediately noticed, and even as she could feel him slowly rutting against her she frowned.

“Astarion? Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. Merely remembering how far we’ve come.”

And how much more there is left to go.

It wasn’t that right now was bad. He was happier than ever - most of the time. His astuteness allowed him to curtail most situations where Ban would inevitably begin to withdraw from him. However, Astarion knew this wasn’t enough; that there was still so much hurt left to heal, and as much as he wanted it now, he had no choice but to wait. Knew that she didn’t completely trust him either, even as he laid his heart and soul in her palm every waking moment.

It felt unfair at times, in an if I have to do it why can’t she way, but he let it go every time. He loved her too much to ever really push her into something she wouldn’t willingly do, especially after his behavior those first six months after the rite.

Astarion let those thoughts linger for a moment more, then returned his focus to his cock - not a difficult task, with how aroused he was. He was hard, the tip flushed pink and aching to sink home. A quick swipe with his thumb to spread his precum over the head, and he gently grasped Ban’s hips, guiding himself down, past her ass to her warm, wet entrance. The heat was pleasurable, and he stilled there for a moment, his length lightly pressed along her folds.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Ban said, and the playfulness was gone, replaced with mild concern. She didn’t turn around, couldn’t see him, but Astarion’s voice merely seemed pensive rather than anything more worrisome.

“Quite,” Astarion reassured her, rubbing his cock back and forth against her clit. Her slickness let him slide smoothly against her, and they both groaned. Of course he was alright; niggling thoughts aside, she loves him, and that was enough. For now.

He rubbed against her one last time and finally pushed in, parting her folds, cock sinking into her heat without another thought. Home.

Ban felt him thrust into her, his length filling her, that all-too-familiar feeling of being stretched that quickly transitioned into pleasure as he took his rightful place within her core. She braced against the bench as his hips began to roll.

A soft fuck escaped Ban’s lips as Astarion began to move. He chuckled, stilling for a moment. “What was that, love?”

“Do I really need to explain?” she snapped. Long, elegant fingers dug into her hips, their grip tight. He drew himself most of the way out, then suddenly plunged in, hitting her spot hard.

“No,” Astarion drawled, the confidence back in his tone. “It would be pleasant to hear, though.” His thrusting was fast, insistent - pulling out and then slamming back in with enough force that it left Ban breathless and holding on for dear life.

Ban’s vision swam, the green of the grass and the red of the roses blurring together as Astarion fucked her. The sound of his ragged breathing, the feel of those talented fingers digging into her skin, the feeling of his cockhead hitting her spot with every stroke - these were things she’d never tire of, she thought, even if they did this every day for all eternity. She’d been craving him, addicted to him, ever since that night in the clearing - no, even before that. She’d wanted him since the moment he asked for help on that godsdamned beach.

The sound of their lovemaking fills the air; it was a raw, primal thing that was full of need and desire - an attraction so strong there wasn’t room for anything else when they were lost in one another. Astarion chased it, that heady feeling slowly uncoiling from his core outwards, that need to explode and to give her what she deserved, to love her with his body, even as he feared that it may be too late for her to ever fully love him back. Because of him, he reminded himself. Not her.

“Hear what?” she teased, and he smirked at the challenge in her voice. With a slight change in the motion of his hips, he rolled them instead, dragging his cockhead against her favorite spot with every thrust. Ban felt the shift; the increased friction made her clench around him.

The tightness around Astarion’s cock intensified and he groaned, the idea of their little contest almost forgotten, but not fully. He kept the pace relentless, and he let out a pleased laugh as anything else she wanted to say dies in favor of a low, needy keening.

“That,” Astarion said, his pace only increasing. He could feel his climax approaching, the fire beginning to burn low in his belly. Quickly he pulled himself out and in one hungry move he knelt and spread her open to lap greedily at her clit, before plunging his cock back inside her and resuming the same punishing pace.

Ban let out a loud whine; the sound only pushed Astarion closer to the edge. Fingers digging in deeper against her hips, nails sinking into skin, his own hips slamming home even harder, he fucked her, all other thoughts and concerns blissfully gone for the moment.

He snaked a hand between her legs, fingers slipping down her mound to stroke her clit in that rhythm only he knew, making her buck against him. The position wasn’t the best, with Ban bent over and elbows locked straight, Astarion curled over her; but it didn’t matter, not when the only thing that existed was them and the love-born lust burning within them.

Astarion knew he wouldn't last much longer; even now he was skirting the edge, barely holding on. He focused on keeping the rhythm of his fingers consistent, their path unchanging, as his own hips juddered and lost their pace. She was close, he could tell, from the way her voice caught to the way her hips canted backwards against him; wanting more of him inside her, as if he wasn’t already buried from root to tip.

“Fuck, Ast-” was the last thing she managed to say before she came, her body jerking hard and her walls clenching around his cock; his fingers continuing their ministrations as she erupted. The feeling of being squeezed as he thrusted, the way her walls hugged him and the sudden surge of warmth from her did him in, and he felt his cock pulse, finally spilling inside her.

He heard her moan his name and he called out to her in turn, as they both drowned in the ocean of their desire.

When the world finally resumed spinning Astarion opened his eyes. He was still buried inside her, and he gingerly pulled out. He pulled his hand away from her hip, a little sheepish about the marks his fingernails had left on her skin even as they already began to fade, her vampiric nature beginning to heal them immediately.

“I love you,” Ban said, as she straightened up and faced him. She felt weak-kneed and light. “Can we head to our room, Astarion? Bathe, maybe? I mean…” She gestured at their surroundings. “I do feel slightly dirty.”

Astarion laughed. “It didn’t bother you that time in the clearing. Why have scruples about rolling around in the dirt now?”

“Says the man who panicked about his clothes getting wet,” she countered.

Astarion leaned back against the walls of the tub, Ban resting against his chest. She’d been silent, and he hadn’t dared ask why, correctly guessing the cause.

“Astarion… ” she began calmly, carefully. “What was that thing you were in a rush to put away today?”

Shit. He weighed his options and settled for the truth. “Something I got for you,” he offered unhelpfully.

“Is that so? Then why were you so secretive about it?”

“It’s a gift,” Astarion said, a tad stiffly. “A bit of decor for our bedroom. I’m sure you’ll indulge your husband in his little surprises, won’t you?”

He didn’t really know what to say, knowing he was deflecting by talking about the mirror itself and not the information that was truly at the heart of the matter.

She sighed and acquiesced. “Fine. I can wait.” Ban shifted, nuzzling against his chest; he wrapped his arms around her and sighed.

“Good.” He was relieved, and he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. “You’ll find out what it is soon enough, and I’ll tell you everything then.”

A promise, layered in another, lesser one. One he swore to abide by, even if she didn't know he’d made it.

If you would like to see more of these two and their story, consider reading my other entries in the series "If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there." Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @girlygamer-blog

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tightjeansjavi · 9 months

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From Eden | AU Pirate! Joel Miller x Mermaid f! Reader

A/N: at long last, we have arrived. This fic was totally self indulgent for me as mermaid lore and pirates has always been a huge interest for me ever since I was a child (I blame pirates of the Caribbean) this is my first time dipping my toe in fantasy writing, but I am so excited to share this with you all. 🏴‍☠️🖤

~word count: 6.6k~

Summary: a prince with a desire for a new life, endures on a journey he’ll never forget. A journey that ends with you by his side always.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implicit smut, ambiguous ending that leads the reader to decide what has become of Joel, mentions of drinking, mild violence, awful mothers/fathers, arranged marriages, pirate talk, death, grief, magic, fantasy, mermaid lore, old English (that may or may not be historically accurate) reader has no physical description, no use of y/n minors dni! (+18)

The sea calls to me, mother. It beckons me. The salty breeze whispers my name. Do not fret where I have ventured. Tis be only in vain. Mourn me not for my departure. I will not live a life I wish not to live. I desire adventure and friendship. I do not wish to be pacified by marriage, and the duties forthcoming with it. I disdain the thought of growing old and grayed without discovering what the world has to offer. I will bear you no grandchildren, and our lineage will wash away with the tide. Pity me not, for I pity you. Leave thou tears unshed, for I will not shed my own in the thought of you.

-J.M 1721

On the eve of Joel’s wedding, under the flickering soft glow of candlelight, the husband-to-be dipped his feather quill lightly into the ink reservoir. He pondered what words would flow onto the parchment resting below his palm. The seconds ticked by as he sealed his destiny in ebony ink. Annabeth would find better. Someone more suitable for her mundane needs. Joel would not be her husband, she would not become his wife.

“My lady, does your mind ever drift and dream of faraway adventure? Does your heart not shriek in the darkest of night for more than these measly castle walls have to offer?” He gingerly took her hand in his own, fighting the bile that rose in his throat as his eyes drifted down to the ring presently shimmering on her finger. The ringer he dutifully betrothed her with.

“My prince, my only wish is to be your dutiful wife and bless you with as many sons and daughters my body can carry. Tomorrow brings new beginnings. In the evening light we shall be married, and you will bed me as you please. Is this no longer what you desire? My prince, what has become of thee?” The backside of her dainty hand rested upon his forehead for she was afraid he had come down with a delirious fever.

“Annabeth, my flower, I wish to see the world. I wish to know what lies beyond the steady horizon. To taste the sea upon my lips, to clench the sand beneath my palms. You speak of me as your prince, but I wish to not be addressed as one. I do not wish to bed thee.”

“Thou speaks evil upon thy tongue. My prince, oh how you wound me so. I wish not to be in a loveless marriage with a man who yearns for the caress of the sea. Why must your heart and mind wander? Why must you disobey your mother’s wishes? Have I not devoted myself to thee?”

A heavy sigh through the evening breeze. Joel’s forehead came to rest upon her bosom as his lashes fluttered shut. “Dearest Annabeth, thou hast not lived in happiness. Thou has lived by her mothers law since thou was just a babe. How cruel that you are expected to marry not out of love, but for status. Dost thou truly want to live a life imprisoned by marriage?”

She wept silent tears for she did not want to be married to a man that did not love her. She did not want to bear his children. She had dreams of a life far richer. Far away from silver platters, incessant lectures, and garments far too tight to breathe in. Her chin fell to rest upon his head as salty tears rolled down her cheekbones.

“My prince, I have always dreamed of becoming a poet. Mother disapproves. She believes that women cannot be anything but wives and mothers. I do not wish to bear children. It is expected of me, but I loathe it.”

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between the valley of her breasts where a smooth silver pendant lay. “Thou mother is an impudent cunt.” She giggled softly at his quick tongue.

her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, twisting ringlets mindlessly. “Mother would have thy tongue for use of such foul language.”

He snorted. “Dost thou disagree? Annabeth, it is just you and I in the gardens this evening. No one shall reprimand thee for speaking the truth.”

“My mother is a foul, loathsome, impudent cunt.”

“Recite it again, my flower.”

“My mother is a cunt.”

“Encore” he hummed.

“My mother is a cunt. I detest this all-too tight dress, and I do not desire to marry thee.”

“Bien joué, ma fleur”

“My prince, I thought thou despised French studies?” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Oui, mon chéri.”

She sighed, soft and gentle as she laid back into the soft cooling grass, gazing up at the glittering sky above. Joel followed her body, resting the side of his head in the lap of her flowy fabric dress.

“My prince, where will thou venture?”

“Tortuga, my flower. There I will be a prince no more. My lineage will fall as my mother weeps, and I shall step into piracy, and sail the high seas just as I have always dreamed.”

“Thou wishes to become a pirate?” She queried.

“Indeed. Tis true, my flower.”

“Thou shall make a handsome pirate.” She softly giggled, gently stroking his soft curls that she would admittedly miss terribly when he would depart.

“Just as thou shall make a brilliant minded poet.” He assured her.

Dark maroon wax dripped languidly along the pale parchment. Joel sealed the letter with a practice hand. His heart raced within the depths of his ribcage as the realization set in that he would be a prince no more. No more pretentious royals, no more stingy small talk, no more ballroom dances, no more lectures.

Joel Miller was to be a free man for the first time in his 17 years of life. The dying candle along his desk was blown out as the smoke curled and lingered. Below his window and past the looming castle walls, Joel could hear the sea whisper his name. In a giddy haste he packed his necessities in a leather bag. He took one last gaze over his room before departing into the ominous night.

His midnight black steed was steady under the saddle as the moonlight guided their way to the port docks. They rode swiftly and silently through the cobblestone city streets. Moving through the shadows with a soft squeeze of his inside leg to spur Hendrix forward. Joel’s horse was one of his prized possessions. A jet black colt with a tiny star being his only white marking. He would be saddened to never see his hooved companion again.

He could taste the salty sea air along his taste buds as the crescendo of crashing waves neared. With a soft tug on the reins, Hendrix slowed to a steady walk along the dock. He was so close to freedom. It was there, in his grasp as he discarded the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. Joel had studied many books on ships and how to maneuver one. It was frowned upon by his mother, so for this reason he’d sneak out late at night and find himself enriched in the library on the east end of the castle. It was now or never for him to put his knowledge learned under a real test. So much for trial and error.

“My prince?” The old sailor hobbled from the shadows of the creaky dock. A lantern trembling in his weathered grip. A quizzical expression crossed his sagging features as he watched Joel dismount from his steed.

“Thou shalt not speak of what thy has seen. I offer my horse in trade for your ship. Hurry please, my fellow. Before they become aware of my untimely departure. I have gold to offer thee as well. My horse can carry you wherever thy desires to wander.” Joel uttered, urgency stricken in his tone.

“My prince..is thee not set to be married in the morn? What use do you have for my ship lad?”

“Good fellow, I simply wish to leave the life I once knew and explore the world and all she has to offer.” He pulled out a sack of gold coins from under his cloak. “All I ask of thee is to speak to no one. Take care of my horse. He’s a good steed, and I shall miss him dearly.”

“Aye, adventure calls thy name?” The sailor pocketed the gold and grasped the smooth leather reins in his palm. “Best be on your way then, laddie. Your steed will be in good hands.”

“Bless you, sir. I wish you good fortune in your days to come.” He gently patted Hendrix along his silky smooth neck. “I shall miss you, my dear friend.”

Just like that, Joel Miller was no longer a prince. His name held a title no more. The tide pulled him out further, and further as he let out a sound filled with glee. A ship of his own to sail the high seas, what a pirate's life f’me.

In the far off distance, Joel could faintly hear the panicked bells ring. The prince was found to be missing from his bed chambers. Where had he gone? No one except Annabeth and an old sailor knew the truth of the prince’s disappearance.

Being a pirate was not all it cracked out to be. Well, in the first few years of entering piracy. His hair had grown longer, longer than it had ever been. It was speckled with sea salt and curled at the nape of his neck. The curls were unruly both from the sea, and maidens that enjoyed tugging on the strands with slender fingers. His once clean shaven face had grown into a patchy beard. The whores he bed didn’t seem to mind how it would scratch the apex of their thighs as he went to town on their pulsing cunts. He felt far more like that of a man with his facial hair. Oh the horror his mother would feel if she were to know of how her once proper, budding son became a frequent customer at one of Tortuga’s many brothels.

He always paid in gold handsomely. It drew the eyes of company that he did not wish to partake in. He was strong, sure and able to fight without breaking a sweat but as soon as a pistol was pulled and he had yet to obtain one, he quickly realized he would not be coming out of this altercation unscathed. He did however get a few good punches in before ultimately handing over the gold coins he kept on his person.

He thought he had the opposing pirates out-fooled by keeping a stash of his gold back at the inn room he inhabited..until he returned later that evening to find his room ransacked and his gold stolen. So be it, he thought. At least they didn’t take the rum.

That’s how he presently found himself in a drunken stupor, wandering the streets, getting into more fights than he could count until a fellow pirate took pity upon him one early morning…

A swift kick to his gut from a heavy boot sent Joel coughing up the rum that was still sloshing in his stomach. He groaned, reaching for his pistol but it was knocked from his grasp and landed a few feet away.

“Get yer ass up laddie.” A gruff voice spoke above him.

“Who the fuck are you—”

Another swift kick had Joel scrambling to sit up as he finally grasped his pistol and cocked it at the intruder. “I suggest ye fuck off back to wherever ye came from.” He growled under his breath.

“Yer drunk, matey. Ain’t gonna get a clear shot even if ya tried.” The older pirate crouched down to his level with a low chortle.

“What’s it to ya?” Joel snarked back.

“Ye got a ship lad? A crew?”

“Aye. I have a ship..I do not possess a crew. Do ye not have a ship? What kind of pirate doesn’t have his own ship?”

“Lost ‘er at sea I’m afraid. Ye have a ship, but be needin’ a crew. I can provide the crew if ye provide the ship, savvy?”

Joel was weary of the older pirate’s offer. He had preferred to sail the seas alone but considering his current state..what more did he truly have to lose?

“Ye have a deal.” He nodded in agreement.

“Smart lad ye be.” He helped the younger pirate to his feet, clapping him on the back stiffly.

Joel had become a seasoned pirate in a short period of time under the guidance of the older pirate. When he passed of old age, Joel became the captain. His ship and crew echoed through the Mediterranean channel. He felt that he had become unstoppable. Driven with greed and the desire for more, he led his crew to their watery grave too soon.

“Captain! She’ll never fit through! You’re goin’ to kill us all!” His secondhand warned him as they steadfastly approached shipwreck cove.

“Aye, she’ll fit! Have I ever let thee down?” His grip along the helm was steady and true.

“No sir, thee have not!”

“Hold ‘er steady boys!” Joel’s confidence wavered when he faced the cold hard truth that his ship would not fit through the rocky channel. He turned the helm sharply to avoid a collision but he was too late, the bow struck true.

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship—” his men yelled in a panic.

a deafening boom

flames

blood curdling screams of his frightened men being dragged down to Davy Jones Locker.

blood oozed from a gash along Joel’s eyebrow as he struggled to pull himself up to his feet. His ears were ringing as he took in the sight before him. Everything in his sight was burning. The wood creaked and groaned as the growing flames licked at his skin. This was the first in many moons that Joel truly felt terrified. He dove into the depths below, using the strength he had left to swim to the nearest shore.

He swore through the murky waters that he caught sight of shimmery scales..a swishing fin. Or perhaps it was his deluded mind playing a trick on him. Mermaids were just old wives tales after all. Creatures of the depths that woo men to their watery graves with alluring songs and seductive beauty.

He struggled to breach the surface as exhaustion seeped into his veins. His lungs screamed for air as he fought against the strong current with everything he had left in him. Suddenly, everything went black.

As a young mermaid you were taught to fear men, whether their ships carried white sails, or black. All men were to be feared. Your father forbade you and your sisters from ever making yourselves known to the surface world. It was too risky especially with the uprising of pirates. Your sisters like to toy with lone sailors lost at sea. They used their beauty and their natural talents of song to lure their victims to the depths.

Their song was melodious, angelic, and addictive; it was almost as if the men were under a trance and unable to escape your sister's snares. It was all a game to your sister’s of course. When your father caught wind of what your sister’s were doing in the pitch black of the night, he encouraged it.

You had no interest in drowning men. You had no reason to cause harm to another being that had inflicted no harm to you. Why couldn’t men and mermaids live in peace?

You spotted the ship crash into the rocky channel from afar. You saw frightened men jump into the sea, thinking that they would survive to see another sunrise..till your sisters dragged them to where the sunlight never reaches. Ripping them limb from limb to become mere fish food.

You witnessed the last body to hit the water from the safety of a looming sponge coral. You watched his arms struggle to pull himself to the surface, desperately clawing for air. When he gave in to what he believed to be his fate, and his body began to sink like deadweight, you made the split second decision to save this man. You swam as fast as you could, gliding through the water as you wrapped your arms around his torso and swam towards the light.

He was heavier in the water, but you were strong willed, and determined to save his life. When you breached the surface the man in your steady grip made no signs of life as you swam to the shore and hauled his body along the wet sand. You discovered that he was quite handsome, with hair that fell in ringlets, and soft pillowy lips that paired with a strong aquiline nose.

This man, pirate or not, was stunning.

Your hand gently came to rest along his cheek, feeling the stubble along his patchy beard lightly prick your skin like a sea urchin. You checked his body for injuries in a haste. Your fingers gently pushed back his hair to find the gash along his forehead. It ran fairly deep into his brow line, while crimson blood continued to trickle down his face only to be washed away by the gentle waves along the shoreline. The sea had healing properties as you knew, and the many plants that dwell below the surface were rich in nutrients, and could heal even the deepest of wounds.

You worked quickly as your fear of the man waking up was becoming prevalent when you observed his dark lashes fluttering and his body twitch. You gathered up a bit of seaweed that was used to heal open lacerations on the skin's surface. You delicately lay a strand of seaweed across his dripping brow. The blood clotted as the miracle plant adhered to his broken skin like glue. Magic, or science? The world may never know.

Your eyes zoned in on the pooling of blood through the once white linen of his shirt. There was a stray fragment of splintered wood sticking out from his side. The intrusion went fairly deep and it would require a little more work.

“Oh, fiddlesticks. I’m deeply sorry, sir. If you can hear me, I’m afraid this is going to hurt a tad.”

Am I dreaming..or is that a maiden's voice?

I must be dead, for I have never heard a voice tis so soft and sweet sounding.

With a small huff you grasped the end of the jagged wood and gave it a firm yank.

Your jolly sailor bold let out a deep gravelly wheeze as his hand subconsciously went to clutch at his side. More seaweed was gently laid upon his open wound and when you were satisfied that beautiful man would not bleed out upon the sand, you turned your body to head back to the sea.

With a flip of your shimmery tail you disappeared under the waves surface, and back to the depths of your home. You didn’t wander far as your own curiosity got the best of you. You hoped that your jolly sailor bold would awake to see another day. Perhaps your sisters and father wouldn’t send a search party for you. Perhaps they would believe you to be crushed by the bow of the ship. For now, you waded in the coral reefs below the surface to patiently wait.

Joel awoke suddenly in a disarray to his surroundings. All he could remember was his prized ship crashing into the rocky channel, his men’s frightened screams, and then everything went to black. How did he end up on the shoreline? Did he swim?..The current was far too dangerous to tread. The waves would knock him down..did someone save him? Or, was it something?

He slowly rose to a sitting position as he tried to rack his brain for any missing important details. His head turned to the side as he glanced down at the apparent indentation along the wet sand. Someone was with him. An Angel? No, it could not be. Joel wasn’t a religious man by any means. Besides, why would an Angel help a pirate such as he?

“‘Must be dreamin’”, he concluded. “Or I’m really dead. Dead as a man can ever be. Forever lost at sea.” His fingers reached up to brush his hairline where he felt a dull pain. He expected to feel the coolness of blood on his skin instead he was met with a strange slimy, yet soft texture. His hand reached down to his side where the splintered wood had been wrenched from and he was met with the same feeling.

“Blimey. What Devil’s work be this?” He twisted his body to get a better look at the wound on his side. His eyes widened the slightest when he saw the seaweed adhered to his skin. Upon closer inspection, the plant was very much still alive, and he could see the tendrils weaving together slowly acting as a suture.

Confused, and ridden in exhaustion, his body flopped back down along the sand with a soft thump. He was unsure how many hours he had slept under the gentle sway of palm trees, and the steady sea kissing at his feet. When he awoke it was due to a voice he had heard. A whisper through the thick vegetation that lay a few yards behind him. It was the same soft voice from earlier. A woman’s voice; the most beautiful voice had ever touched his undeserving ears.

Struggling to his feet, he staggered towards the voice, and used the sturdy bases of the palm trees to balance him. His body was still fairly weak, but he’d be damned if he didn’t meet the maiden that possessed such a sweet sounding tune.

As he drew nearer, the voice became clearer and easily detectable. Oh, it was so beautiful. Chillingly beautiful. It would be fairly easy for a man to be driven into madness from hearing a song so saccharine.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

He followed your voice till he was greeted by the lagoon tucked away in the jungle. The water was crystal clear and below there were all kinds of coral and sea life thriving. What he was first to take notice of was the fair maiden that laid basking along a smooth damp rock. He could only see your upper torso that appeared to be covered by shimmering silk that wrapped around your breasts like drifting seaweed. His lips parted in surprise as he had never laid his eyes upon a maiden so stunning in his lifetime.

A twig snapped under the weight of his boot as he crept closer. You had not caught wind of your jolly sailor bold till your keen ears detected the sound of a twig snapping. It was enough to send your mind in a fury of panic as you dove below the surface. Your tail flapped as you slipped off the rock, it created a wild splash from the movement.

“Wait! I do not mean to frighten thee! Please, don’t go. Are you the maiden that saved me? I awoke on the sand..confused how I came to rest there. Please, need not to be afraid. I promise I will not harm thee.” He slowly approached the entryway to the lagoon, crouching down onto his knees.

You slowly peeked around the corner of the rock you had previously been sunbathing on. “I am the one to save you sir, but I am no maiden.”

“What are thee then? You appear to be a maiden, one that I now owe my very life to. I will forever be in your debt.”

“I am one with the sea..one of her many children that dwell in the depths below. You do not owe your life to me sir. I only wished to do a good deed.”

“One with..the sea? Is this a riddle? My head hurts far too much for any riddles, my dear. Do ye have a name?”

“Tis not a riddle, sir. For I am a mermaid. The sea is my home. I cannot utter my name to thee as it is forbidden.”

“A mermaid? Poppycock. Mermaids are just silly wives tales. I do not believe in such stories.” He swallowed a scoff that crawled up his throat.

Your tail suddenly swished above the surface as Joel clambered back, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“By god, I must be dreamin!’ How can it be? Body of a woman, tail of a fish. Are the tales true?” He asked in disbelief.

“‘You are not dreaming, sir. I am as true as can be. Do I frighten thee?”

“No, no. I am simply just awestruck. A real life mermaid. I have never been confronted with such beauty to behold.”

You cautiously swam closer. You couldn’t help but to be drawn to the thrill of danger, even when every fiber in your scaled being was screaming at you to not draw nearer. Your arms slowly rose from the surface and came to rest along the rocky shore as you looked up at him through soft lashes. “And you, are you my jolly sailor bold?” You asked softly, tilting your chin to rest upon the top of your wrist.

Joel’s cheeks inflamed. Never had he felt so flustered by another being. His hand reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never been pressured with such forward questions. Are your kind allowed to dwell with pirates?”

“For a pirate such as thee, you are quite sweet, and charming. Are all pirates like you?”

“I’m afraid not, my jewel. Most of us are quite brutish in nature. I come from Royal blood, and no matter how many years I have been away from my old life, my manners always find a way to sneak through. My men—” he paused rather suddenly. “My crew..were they saved? Please, tell me that they’re alive and not forever lost at sea.”

“Your men..didn’t survive. I’m so sorry, sir. My sisters are not as kind as I. They dragged them to the depths..ripped them limb from limb. Father would have a heart attack if he saw me conversing with you.”

“Fuck.” He whispered as he fell back onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands. “It’s all my fault. I am the cause of their deaths. If only I had listened..if only my ego did not shroud my judgment, they would still be alive.”

Your hand gently came to rest upon his arm. It caused you great distress to see another being in pain. Physical, or the mental kind, you felt it through and through. “You cannot beat yourself up over what has already been done. Not when you are still breathing air into your lungs, and tasting the sea along thy tongue. Do not weep for the dead, sir. You will see them when the time comes.”

Joel flinched at the soft contact, as it had been many moons since he felt the touch of a woman on his skin. “Joel.” He whispered. “My name is Joel, and I wish for you to whisper it as softly as thou sings.”

“Joel..I like the way it falls from thy tongue. Where doth thou wander from?..how did thou turn to piracy?”

“I like the way it sounds rolling past thy lips. I ran away from home, many years ago. I traded my trusted steed for a sailors ship. I was set to be married and live a life that I did not wish to live. My wife to-be was the only person to understand me, and my dreams. For you see, the sea has always beckoned me, and I finally answered it.”

“You ran away? That sounds awfully exhilarating. I’ve always wanted to leave my father and home behind. I suppose in a way I have, now that I am here with you.”

“Oh, it was. I still remember the rush through my veins when the sea carried me far away. All my life I had been searching for a purpose, and once I finally had it in my grasp, I could not forfeit what I always dreamed of. My jewel, why did thee choose to save me?”

“Your actions are very admirable, Joel. I struggle deeply with allowing other beings to be in pain. It goes against my nature. That is why I have never partook in my sister’s ploys. I never desired to drag lonesome sailors to a watery grave. Your life is just as special as the next. I could not bear to see thee perish.”

Your words touched a place inside Joel that no woman had dared to try and reach. It wasn’t that he was closed off to affection, he just simply didn’t have the heart for it. He bed women for an evening and he’d return to the sea the following morning. It was like clockwork. He only had felt for Annabeth, and even then he felt that it was platonic over romantic. He loved her, but not in the way that made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“I appreciate thee for saving my life. I do not feel that I am deserving to live while my men have died in a brutal fashion, but perhaps I shall take thee as a blessing.”

“Joel, every living being is deserving of life. Your woes shall burden you no longer. Doth thou wish to be happy, and at peace?”

“I wish for that, yes. How do I live with the grief in my bones?”

“You learn to forgive, and forget. You see the world for its simple pleasures of beauty, and grace.”

“Such as thee?” He boldly asked.

“If you wish it.” Your palm gently rested upon his own as you coaxed his hand from his face. “I have never thought pirates to be so..handsome.”

He leaned into your gentle cradled touch along stubble covered cheek. “How do you find such beauty in danger? I’ve killed many men. I’ve played the fool, and the instigator. I’ve made honorable decisions, and piss-planned mistakes. I am that of a scoundrel.”

“No, my jolly sailor bold. If thee were to be that of a scoundrel, you would have brought harm upon me. You are gentle at the core.” Your hand slowly drifted down to his exposed chest, feeling his heart skip a beat under your palm.

“You speak of that as a poet. I’d fancy to hear more of your honeyed voice.”

“Only if thou tells me tales of being a pirate.”

“Deal, my jewel.”

For many suns and moons, you and your jolly sailboat were engrossed in one another’s stories. He’d steal glances at your lips every few sentences as your fingers were gently toying with his soft ringlets. He’d recite to you stories of his past life, and present. Stories of adventure and thrills above the surface.

He craned his head to catch a glimpse of your shimmering tail below the surface. He was fascinated, as much as he was enamored. “Do you ever wish that thou had legs?” He softly asked as you twirled a curl gently.

“Sometimes I do wish for it. The sea has so much life and color to offer..but the surface land does spark my curiosity from time to time. I’ve seen ladies in fancy dresses upon ships with white sails. They always look so beautiful.”

“My dear, those ladies may look beautiful in their garments, they however can hardly breathe in them. You would be miserable in that life. Unless you somehow found your way to freedom.”

“Oh, would I be expected to marry for status? Not for love? I had no inclination to believe that their garments were suffocating, how dreadful.”

“Yes, your parents would have picked out a husband for you, before you’d properly experienced a childhood. You’d be forced into incessant lectures, proper etiquette, training and how to be a functioning member in society. Did I fail to mention you’d be forced to attend fancy parties and engage in mindless small talk? Life above the surface as a royal was draining at best.”

“My father has already picked a husband out for me. He is a fine merman, he just..doesn’t make my heart sing. Oh, how I’d love to dance under the moonlight. To hear a live orchestra..or an opera singer..”

Joel turned his nose up when you stated that you already had a husband picked out by the hand of your father. “I see.. Well, you did run away, did you not? You no longer have to marry. Not when you’re here with me. If you wish so terribly to dance, then we shall. All you have to do is wish for it, my jewel.”

“Joel, how are we to dance when you have legs. and I possess fins..” your lips curved in a soft pout.

“My love, in the crystal water you dwell in of course. Do you trust me?” He slowly sat up to rest upon his strong elbow.

“Of course I trust you. You have given me no reason to not trust you. Do you wish to dance with me under the moonlight, my jolly sailor bold?”

“I do, my jewel.” His words whispered against your skin like a soft warm breeze.

Just like that, Joel had stripped himself of his belongings, his holster that held his pistol and sword were discarded to the side as he struggled to unlace his boots. He had the ghost of a boyish grin across the shadow of his jawline. He truly was that of beauty.

You slowly swam backwards, wading in the gentle water as he swung his legs over the ledge and slipped in. His body was fully healed by now and only a scar along his browline and side were visible.

“Promise not to laugh..I am not the strongest of swimmers.” He chuckled as he swam towards you.

Under the pale moonlight and stars above, you were captivated by his golden tanned skin that was now speckled with water droplets. The gold that hung around his neck shimmered like your scales and the rings that encased his fingers.

“I’d only ever laugh in good fun at thee.”

“I never knew a mermaid could hold such humor.” He winked coyly.

“I never knew a pirate could be so..cheeky.” Your arms slowly looped around his neck as his gentle hands rested upon your scaly waist.

You slowly began to move your bodies under the water, mimicking that of a man and woman dancing to the sweet sound of a violin. The water rippled as the crickets chirped along the shore.

Joel Miller had never been in love; he decided now that his heart belonged to you, a mermaid that he believed was brought to him by fate alone. How blessed he was to be given a second chance at a fruitful life. He didn’t need a ship, or a crew. All he needed was you.

“Joel..” you whispered through the calm evening air.

“Yes, my jewel?”

“Do you believe that it’s ever too soon to tell someone you love them?”

“No, my love. I do not believe that there is ever a time too soon, or too sudden to confess your love for someone.”

“Then if that is to be true, I love you.”

“I love you, my sea.” His forehead gently came to rest upon your own as his hands slowly and delicately slid up your body. He stroked your hair, your cheekbones as his thumb dragged across your lower lip. “I wish to kiss thee. Do you wish it?”

You leaned into his gentle touch as your fingers threaded through his sea-salt speckled curls. “I wish to feel thy lips upon my own.”

He turned his head to the side, nose gently brushing against your own as his lips met yours. His hands were now gently cradling your face with the utmost care as he kissed you like a lover does for the first time. Your lips moved in synchronized harmony, you and your jolly sailor bold.

Upon one summer's morning, when the sea was at her angriest and the wind howled a ghostly tune as the skies above darkened to pitch black, Joel had decided that a life above the surface was a life he no longer wanted to live. He wished to be with you, forever.

“My jewel!” He yelled for you as he raced for the lagoon that had become yours and his personal oasis.

You swam up from the surface of the lagoon, his voice was like that of a beacon. “My Joel, you shouldn’t be out here. You must find shelter. The storm is picking up and I am frightened that you will be caught up in her fury.” Your tone was urgent as he crouched along the edge of the lagoon.

“My Jewel, my light, please. Please listen to the words I speak. The storm does not frighten me. I have no desire to seek out shelter when I am safe here. I wish for you to take me to the depths. I wish for you to take me to your Eden. Please, my heart aches terribly that I can not be with you fully. The surface world has become my prison. I don’t wish to dwell in it any longer.”

Your face fell upon his confession. Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head vigorously, grasping his hands in your own. “No, my jolly sailor bold. Do not wish such a thing. You are not suited to dwell in the depths of the sea. I forbade it.”

“Please. Please, I am begging you. I have given thee my heart, my soul, take me all; for I am yours.”

“Joel..my heart breaks for thee. You will never return to land if you make this choice.” His hand gently cradled your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

“It is a choice I am willing to make. I wish to be with you for the rest of eternity. Till the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. Till mountains crumble, and the sea dries, and the earth cracks and shatters to dust. I wish to be with you, always.” He murmured softly.

“Take my hand, and never let go.”

“Never, my jewel. I will never let go.” He promised to you.

He grasped your hand bravely in his own. He kissed you swiftly, holding your face as close to his as possible. He could taste the salt dripping from your tears mixing in with his own. He took his final lungful of air, before you dragged him below the surface.

Joel Miller, once a prince turned a pirate; Was never seen by the surface world again. Some say he was driven mad by the loneliness, and grief that he took his own life and drowned in the sea's treacherous depths. Others say the sea always called his name, beckoned him to return home, and so he did. The sea claimed him, and he her, just as it had been written.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tessa-quayle @saradika @chaotic-mystery @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @amanitacowboy @last-girl @lovers-liability @pedrostories

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #joel miller angst #pirate! Joel Miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller story #joel miller one shot #joel miller self insert #from eden #tight jeans javi fic

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kaleb-is-definitely-sane · 13 days

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Okay but am I the only one with a special love for declarations of love that border on religious/sacrilegious?

I mean i just love that “my future husband becoming to me my whole world; and more then the world: almost my hope for heaven. he stood between me and every thought of religion… i could not, in those days, see god for his creature: of whom i had made an idol” "heaven did not seem to be my home and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth" "heaven and hell were words to me" "do not swear at all. or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee" "he knows himself to be equal to the gods" "that man seems to me to be equal to the gods who is sitting opposite you" "if love is a religion, i'll worship you morning and evening" "i love you so much my heart names you after gods" "she's a goddess. my muse, my lover - i worship her devotedly and sacrifices daily and she loves me back with a savage barbarism only the greek goddesses could" "she's a myth, she's a legend. one look at her is sure to lock you out of heaven" "i want to devour you. you want to devour me. so let's consume each other. it's communion - though it sure doesn't look like church" "in the crooks of your body i find my religion" "if the heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece" "we were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other" "my love is not idolatrous, okay? that’s bullshit. it’s not. i’m just saying it’s theological perfection, that’s all. like the Holy Trinity, but a hundred times better" "take me to church: i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. i'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife. offer me that deathless death. oh good God, let me give you my life" "you built me palaces out of paragraphs. you built cathedrals" "women were to me a cathedral. beautiful and religious even. their ability to make worshipers… worth writing a poem for" "i would have come out of eden to open the door for you if i had known you were there" "i slithered out from eden just to outside your door" "my church offers no absolutes; she tells me, 'worship in the bedroom.' the only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you" "and if the devil were to see you he would kiss your eyes and repent" "love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it's like religion. it's terrifying" "i wanted to know what I looked like to you. a sin committed and a prayer answered, you said" "she'll give you all your desires but her demands are sacrificial" "there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin" "he thought her body gave him his first name. he thought her thighs could tell him who he was. he thought lust and love had the same hands" "it's more then love she feels for him... it's more like worship" "to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god" "unholy. killer of men. makes you wonder how much longer till you give in" "if my love is blasphemous, then may i burn i hell" "her beauty is so great that heaven is flawed for the lack of her" "if I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight. to keep the goddess on my side, she demands a sacrifice" "i would put off meeting god in paradise, to meet you one last time" "she is heaven's light" "she is hellfire" "you remember church as a boy. the fear and the passion. that's what she makes me feel" "when he leaves the room, he bows and acts precisely as if he were before a shrine" "we are one person in two bodies" "i am not whole without you" "i need my other half. you are me, and i am you" "o that it were not in religion sin to make our love a god, and worship it" "unable are the loved to die for love is immortality, nay it is deity - unable they that love to die for love reforms vitality into divinity" kind of love

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ourautumn86 · 2 years

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W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

†

“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! <3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

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talonabraxas · 1 month

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Mass of the Phoenix Hail Ra, that goest in thy bark Into the caverns of the Dark! East of the Altar see me stand With light and musick in my hand! I strike the Bell: I light the Flame; I utter the mysterious Name. ABRAHADABRA Now I begin to pray: Thou Child, Holy Thy name and undefiled! Thy reign is come; Thy will is done. Here is the Bread; here is the Blood. Bring me through midnight to the Sun! Save me from Evil and from Good! That Thy one crown of all the Ten Even now and here be mine. AMEN. I burn the Incense-cake, proclaim These adorations of Thy name. Behold this bleeding breast of mine Gashed with the sacramental sign! I stanch the Blood; the wafer soaks It up, and the high priest invokes! This Bread I eat. This Oath I swear As I enflame myself with prayer: "There is no grace: there is no guilt: This is the Law: DO WHAT THOU WILT!" ABRAHADABRA. I entered in with woe; with mirth I now go forth, and with thanksgiving, To do my pleasure on the earth Among the legions of the living. --The Mass of the Phoenix (technically called Liber XLIV or 44) is a eucharistic ritual written by Aleister Crowley, which first appeared in The Book of Lies, Chapter 44, in 1913. The Mass of the Phoenix is an official ritual of the A.'.A.'.

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symphonyofsilence · 1 year

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It's so strange that Fëanor's suspicion of how Fingolfin is trying to usurp him is usually dismissed as his paranoia and Melkor's baseless brainwashing when literally the first thing that happens after Finwë's death is that most of the Noldor decide to follow Fingolfin & name him as king, & Finarfin becomes the king of the Noldor in Valinor, & Fëanor is left with the smallest host among the brothers, to the point that Fëanor & Maedhros will later get outnumbered by Melkor and suffer defeats and Maedhros will have to abdicate in favor of Fingolfin to keep the Noldor united. (And at that point a lot of Fingolfin's followers had died on the ice. But they're still more than the Fëanorians.)

and even before Finwë's death, Fingolfin was ruling in his place in Tirion while Finwë & Fëanor were in exile. You might say that it's because of Fëanor's own actions, and yes, it was. But even though Fëanor's response was extreme, Fingofin was indeed there before Fëanor, talking behind his back to Finwë, & specifically telling Finwë that 'If thou dost not now repent of it, two sons at least thou hast to honour thy words.'

So it doesn't really seem like Fingolfin was just sharing his concern with Finwë & what happened after Fëanor's exile to Formenos & Finwë's death was just a self-fulfilling prophecy that Fëanor caused by his own action while Fingolfin had no interest in usurping him. And I don't think Fingolfon added Finwe before his name in pursuance of his claim to be King of the Noldor after his father's death was just in response to being abandoned on the ice by Fëanor, though I think it did play a great part in his decision to so openly claim Fëanor's place.

I think making Fingolfin less ambitious & without any political game of his own is actually a disservice to his character. He's a more complex character than he's usually given credit for. As I explained here, I think becoming a king was his way of inwardly seeking validation and filling the void that was left in him since childhood.

And we know that at least Maedhros was politically smart & more of a peacemaker. So maybe all of Fëanor's sons weren't always just following him like ducklings everywhere, without thinking of their own, or being completely brainwashed. Maybe something was going on against their father that they noticed, too. We know that "Long before, in the bliss of Valinor, before Melkor was unchained, or lies came between them, Fingon had been close in friendship with Maedhros". So Maedhros & Fingon broke up of their own accord. And they were very close. How can someone lie to you about your best friend, who you spend a lot of time with & leave little thing unsaid to each other, without any basis, and you believe it and even break up with them if you hadn't seen anything that even slightly ruffled your feathers & gave validation to the rumors?

We know that Nerdanel restrained Fëanor "when the fire of his heart burned too hot" but maybe it was less "your brother is not plotting against you" and more "pointing a sword at him in front of everyone in the parliament is not the way to go about it. Start your own political campaign".

And Indis naming Finarfin "Ingoldo" which means "THE Noldo" might have been in response to most of the Noldor not liking that their queen was a Vanya, and the fact that Finarfin was born blond, a very Vanya look, and Indis choosing to pronounce "th" as "s" despite already pronouncing it as "th" as a Vanya, while Fëanor insists that that was the correct pronunciation because Míriel insisted it is, might have again been Indis just trying to fit in among the Noldor, but Indis named Fingolfin "Arakano" which means "High Chieftain". And that trying to blend in with the Noldor obviously had a political side to it.

Could it be that all of these were just Indis trying to innocently make herself at home? And was she really a perfect mom to Fëanor who kept rejecting her affection?

I mean I don't think that she was downright an evil stepmother. I think she was nice to Fëanor, she really pitied him for being the only motherless child ever, and at such a young age, & did always try to win his favor, but that didn't stop her from seeking her own agenda for her sons.

Maybe we tend to make Indis more passive than she canonically was. Fëanor did notice his father showing Vanyarin behavior the more she was with Indis. & While I believe Finwë was a codependent and impressionable person, Indis might have also been actively influencing him. Or at least welcomed the changes in Finwë's behavior.

It might all be indeed innocent, but seeking to marry someone else's husband for the first time in history- because death doesn't do elves apart and Finwë & Míriel were still married when Finwë & Indis decided to marry- & by that condemning Míriel to stay dead forever because Indis has taken her place in her marriage while getting reincarnated is every elf's right doesn't sound to me like someone who is not willing to make moral compromises.

And It's very likely that after Finwë took Fëanor's side & went to exile with him when Fëanor raised his sword to Indis' son & Indis chose to stay in Tirion, things were broken between Indis & Finwë beyond repair. So Finwë choosing to stay in Mandos in Míriel's place forever didn't really surprise Indis. And even though it hurt very much, it didn't hurt as it once might have. After being proven that she would always be second to Míriel again & again, and for good the last time, it was clear to her that it would be Finwë's choice.

& Deep inside she thought that maybe she deserved it. And so did Finwë.

It hurt to be replaced.

And likewise, Fëanor vs Fingolfin incident might have also been the point of no return for Indis & Fëanor.

I headcanon that at Manwë's party to reconcile Fingolfin & Fëanor, it was the first time that Indis didn't smile at Fëanor, but looked coldly at him.

Finarfin has always seemed to me like someone who generally disliked this whole drama, and was not interested in ruling or politics and anything & was just there for Fingolfin's spiritual support. He probably spent most of his time with the Teleri, and like his brothers, he married young (it's not just a headcanon. He did marry young, according to NoME. I'll explain it in another post.) And mostly lived away from the drama. (when there's drama at home, all you gotta do is walk away-ay-ay)

But Fingolfin definitely had his ambition, and Indis might have had, too.

Another thing that Fëanor gets accused of Paranoia for, is that the Valar want his Silmarils.

...afer the Valar explicitly ask him for his Silmarils. And Tulkas claims that Fëanor doesn't even own them, & they're Yavanna's.

And later when one Silmaril is freed from Melkor, the only sailor that they allow inside Aman is Earendil who has the Silmaril. And then it's given to him to be used as almost the same way they wanted to use it when they asked Fëanor for them. This happens while Nerdanel, who would be Fëanor's heir & thus the rightful owner of that Silmaril is currently in Aman. And even if she doesn't want it, Findis, Finarfin & Finrod are there, too. Just because the Valar want everyone to enjoy the Silmarils' lights doesn't mean that they can forcefully take them away from their owners.

And later, the sons of Fëanor are again denied of their birthrights. Even if they couldn't touch them-which wasn't Eonwe's problem- Celebrimbor was still there.

So yeah, the Valar did want the Silmarils.

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theeeveetamer · 7 months

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On Loving Thy Neighbor: A long term fan’s perspective

Recent discussion in the tags has gotten me thinking about love, life, and the dynamic of human interaction. And it all brings me back to the same conclusion: fandom, like all things in life, requires a deft touch and an appreciation of nuance.

While it would be easy, even wonderful, if we could all just be kind to each other and have that kindness returned, anyone who has been part of fandom—a part of life in general—knows that it is often not that simple.

Bringing kindness to someone who seeks only to inflict pain on you is not only ineffective, it’s completely masochistic. We understand this when it applies to other areas of life. The solution to queerphobia isn’t “be nicer to the queerphobes” and the solution to sexism isn’t “be nicer to the sexists”. The solution is to tell them to get bent, because they aren’t welcome in the vibrant, beautiful, kind communities we hope to build if they are going to meet us with vitriol and hate. Attempting to placate a queerphobe while building a queer-positive society is like arguing that it’s fine if you just leave just one house in the neighborhood constantly on fire.

Fire does not care about your boundaries. It will spread to the other houses eventually whether you like it or not—whether you intend to let it or not—because that is the nature of fire.

Why, then, do we protect toxic actors in fandom? Why do we wave off a handful of death threats as the same thing as a handful of character or ship opinions? Why do we continue allowing people to wave that kind of behavior off? Why do we think it’s okay to keep the fire?

Simply put, it’s because it takes much less effort to assume "everyone was bad". Figuring out the nuance of a situation is hard; telling everyone to be nicer is easy.

And there the problem lies. There are many situations in which being a little kinder to each other could help. I'm not discounting that. There are also situations where doing so is masochistic and enabling toxicity. Enabled toxicity will never disappear, or quiet. It will only grow. Like fire, there is nothing you can offer it that will stop it from spreading. Pleading with it and offering it sticks to placate it won't stop it from gobbling up your house eventually.

Knowing the difference is where the solution lies. But some people don’t want to do the work to pick apart the nuance of a situation, so they tell you (no matter the context), to just shut up and be nicer. Got death threats against you? Well you said something negative about their favorite character, and you pointing out that they sent you death threats makes them feel bad. See, you both feel bad! So clearly you both must have done something wrong! So maybe you should have just been nicer.

It doesn't matter if your opinions were properly tagged, or if you censored the character's name, or if it was on a blog hidden from searches, or if it was something you sent in a DM one time that got spread around without your knowledge, or if the person who sent you the threats is someone you blocked months ago who shouldn't have been able to see it anyway. You should have anticipated that someone, somewhere in the world, might see it and get mad enough to send you death threats. Take responsibility. Be nicer next time.

If the fire spreads to your house? Well, you shouldn’t have built it so close. You knew the fire was there. It’s your problem. You deal with it.

It rings hollow. “If you were just nicer to your abuser, maybe they wouldn’t have to keep hitting you. Maybe we would all be getting along if you would just shut up about it already.”

No one ever stops to question why the fire is there in the first place, or why people are so desperate to cling to it, or what purpose it could possibly serve when all it ever does is burn down houses.

A harasser, like a fire, is not satisfied with bullying one person, or burning down one house. They will consume everything until nothing is left or they have been put out (sanctioned and excommunicated).

When you claim to take no sides in a situation like this, or you claim both sides are equally bad, you are siding with the toxic actor. You are feeding your fellow fans to the fire in the hopes that you won't be next. You will always be next.

And if there's only a handful of people in your community willing to pick up a bucket and try to fight the fire, while everyone else shrugs and says "just don't build your house too close"? The firefighters will leave, because they know they can't fight it alone, and they know it won't stop, and who wants to live in a house constantly at risk of going up like a tinderbox?

And then, one day, everyone who shrugged and stayed will turn around and wonder why their town is nothing but ashes and cinders. And they will have no one to blame but themselves.

The world only works off of "be kinder" logic if you assume everyone's goal is to get along. The sad truth is, there are always some fires, and their definition of "getting along" includes destruction and pain incompatible with kindness.

I think the only people who truly believe the core of the problem is that everyone "isn't kind enough" are so used to sitting in a burning house that they can no longer smell the smoke.

#fire emblem #fandom #fandom meta #fandom culture #not just fire emblem but that's my main fandom so

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 5 months

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Ugh. Nov 30 is my big brother's birthday. And my psychiatrist appointment is also on that date. Small world. I was forced to quit thanks to my parents after for maybe almost two years. My mind is disorganized... I am working on my yandere Grindelwald and Love thy enemy series.

A Life Bartered will be out on hold. I don't know how to write the next chapter...

Anyway.... A short random thought. Love thy enemy will probably take years to complete.

I don't want to half ass this like my other works.

But, I love these scenes so much. From other movies. I cannot picture gellert Grindelwald in them but human Miles Quaritch before he came back as s Recom....

Tsk. Tsk. Here it goes.

As you can tell in that picture.... The Colonel was wearing a ring...

You were dating him. after a few mishaps. I mean he was a yandere who acted kind and sweet. But later revealed he was an evil man who wanted to colonize and commit genocide and steal their land.

You felt betrayed. You slept with the enemy. Your Prince charming was rather the beast holding you hostage in disguise. Worst of all is ... You don't think you have any man to rescue you.

You have to fend yourself. You were jealous of Trudy and Neytiri. Jake changed sides for his lover and Trudy helped Norm. You wanted that kind of love. Quaritch wanted to change YOU to be on his side. It should be the other way around. You knew you were morally right.

Before the battle of hometree. You asked him when was his birthday. You didn't want to ask what year. It was rude. You knew Quaritch was a little insecure if his age because of you and those rumors.

The Colonel to your surprise told you causally and was comfortable. He asked why you cared. You cheekily avoided the subject. Then asked for his favorite color.

Quaritch raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning on buying me a gift, sweetheart?"

You looked away avoiding his eyes. Damn it. The Colonel was always too smart for his own good.

You mumbled a "no." The Colonel walked up to you and tucked you underneath him.

"your a bad liar." He snickered.

When the time arrived. You cooked an extra fancy meal and made a small party. His squad and some of your science friends came. It was awkward that scientists and Marines were to be civil.

The Marines and scientists didn't speak to one another only themselves.

The Colonel appreciated the gesture. He didn't eat cake for years. He doesn't like junk food. Especially sweets. He teasingly made you feed him cake Infront of all.

He was amused by your blushing face as you did

And as for his present besides riding him for the first time. He was surprised and he wasn't complaining.

You gave him an antique gold 25 karot and his favorite color gem in the center. Worth 15,000.

The Colonel was touched. He let you be the boss of him that night in his bed. He laughed at how awkward you were. It was cute you were trying.

Since then. He wore it.

As for you... When it was your birthday. He tattooed your name across his chest in big and bold letters. (Please don't ask me how they have a tattoo artist in base. I don't know...)

Then one day. it happened.

Your world turned upside down. Sully was reporting to Quaritch secretly.

Your boyfriend was the whole time keeping secrets. He attacked hometree and lied about peace.

Worst of all, not only was your elderly father dying but died a month ago. His funeral passed.

You tried to break up with Quaritch.

He for the first time. Hit you. He never did this before.

He treated you like a queen and called you princess.

You felt tears down your rosy cheeks and held your cheek. You healed already thanks to your mutant genetics. But, your heart wound of being hit by the man you loved and degraded made you feel disgraced. So many was happening at once. Bad reality checks.

The whole time. Selfridge wanted to steal the natural resources.

He lied to all scientists and other people like Trudy. She said she didn't sign up for this shit.

You sobbed. "If my father was alive...."

Quaritch let out a "tch" in annoyance as he looked down at your pathetic form on the ground after getting hit in the face

"he's dead. Even if he was alive. I am not scared of that old man. Father in law or not."

"You're suppose to be..."

The Colonel rolled his eyes at your naivety. He grabbed your forearm and made you stand up.

He made you look at him. "I am not your prince charming. I'm the warrior who is willing to kill for his prize."

You cried more. Your just like a pretty trophy wife. You thought he was different than the other men and boys in earth. Suitors who wanted to marry you for your looks.

You fell in love with a jerk.

What a fool you were.

Before the Colonel left to the ship to bomb hometree once and for all. He wanted to "touch" you one last time.

He announced to everyone when he bought the entire marines first round at the bar when they destroyed the omiticaya home that he will marry you after the battle is over.

He proposed to you and you were forced to act happy. He went on his knee everyone cheered.

Then... You were locked in your room. The scientists had to leave for Earth. So the labs were shut down.

But, you decided to spite him... You snuck in weapons to the Avatars and gave mad useful information about the Marines plans to invade the Navis.

And gave them keys to the soldiers supply room.

Well... Before Quaritch would fuck you before he wanted to kill Sully. You drugged his coffee. Too bad he noticed something again. Remember, he is too smart for his own good. Nothing gets past him. He spat out his drink. He was only slightly dizzy. He was so angry.

He wanted to punish and rape you again.

"maybe I pump a brat inside you. That will tame your bitchy attitude." He grinned. Your breath heaved.

Before he came. You grabbed a heavy book and hit his head. He bled and howled in pain.

"you bitch!" He knocked the book out. He slapped you. He knew he could kill you easily. So he decided to just tie you up.

But, you used the taiser he gave you for protection against his neck.

He smirked after getting shock. "oh look, doll. A hickey."

He mockingly beckoned you to come closer. "Come to daddy."

You then kneed his balls. He clutched down. You kicked his nose. He cursed and clutched his face in pain.

"who's your daddy now?"

You locked him in his room and ran off.

The Colonel kicked the door down open and then was summoned to Selfridge to immediately start the ship.

The Colonel used his phone to make his men detain you. He will punish you so fuckin bad after he kills Sully.

Luckily, Max and your other scientists friends who were also avatars attacked the base and freed you from your cell.

And from Selfridge. He tried to rape you while the base was in a frenzy and you were alone.

Before Selfridge could touch you. A gunshot missed his head.

"don't shoot!" He held his hands up.

"Give me a reason, prick." Your Avatar friend pointed the gun at him.

You then decided to run to the communication room. You heard Quaritch's voice.

"this is Papa dragon. I want this mission high and tight. I wanna be home for dinner." You rolled your eyes.

You called Jake and told him where to find the ship aircraft of Quaritch.

You never heard of Quaritch again...

But sadly. You felt something moving inside your body. And it wasn't guilt. Damn Quaritch. He always gets the last laugh.

#avatar #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #yandere miles quaritch x reader #dark miles quaritch

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v4mptoru · 9 months

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You don't even know my name do ya? pt. 2

Character/Fandom: Gojo Satoru/Jujutsu Kaisen

Summary: Although the very much well known Gojo Satoru has a ton of girls on his tail, his (six) eyes only seemed to be only on you.

Content(s): Implied fem!reader, cursing, Gojo actually being smitten while reader is outright confused and creeped out, Geto playing wingman and cringing at Gojo anyway, Shoko and Utahime being your gossip buddies, mentions of masturbation.

<<previously

It was no doubt that Gojo Satoru, was a certified clown.

Currently he was getting dragged by Suguru somewhere where you couldn't see him, he felt his ass hurt after getting plopped onto another bench by his big-eared friend.(/j)

"Satoru you dumbass!" The ravenette exclaims in exasperation as he massaged his temples, as if the stress couldn't get his eyebags any worst.

"hey! what's the big deal? you said I should talk to her!" Satoru huffs out as he fixes his crooked sunglasses and crosses his arms at his best friend.

The boy sighs at the blue-eyed boys stupidity for the 29739283928th time since they met. "stupid! you're the one that likes her, and i'm just here to help you, not to be your guinea pig!" "well what the hell was I supposed to say? you're the one that pushed me to her? I panicked!"

And of course, people were staring at the two losers bickering, but truth be told. Who knew that Gojo, who had tons of girls running after him, would be failing at trying to woo the girl he's interested in?

You were currently still with the gals, the three of you were heading to some karaoke spot that Utahime really wanted to go to, dragging Shoko along with her while you were following right behind them.

You were currently dazing off into the distance as you continued to walk with equal pace with your two friends, thinking about the events that occurred just a few minutes ago while you sucked on a lollipop,

"...rlie.. irlie... GIRLIE!" Utahime's voice boomed in your eardrums as you flinched and almost choked on the candy, "girl! holy shit! you were about to hit a lamp post!" the girl exclaimed as the brunette beside her nods along.

"were you thinking of something?" Shoko asks as she pulls out her phone, seemingly caring and uncaring at the same time while Utahime snatches her phone out of her hands and slides it in her pockets.

"yeah! what's up with you? you've been like this since earlier!" Utahime asks as she raises a brow at you, taking out the lollipop you've been sucking on and throwing it on a nearby trashcan.

"y'know the guy from ea—" "no." the girl cuts you off as she drags you and Shoko with her inside the karaoke bar with a deadpanned expression.

"oh c'mon! you can't even let m–" "please shut up." "fine!" you grumbled in annoyance, as you let yourself get dragged into the bar while Shoko just giggles.

"don't even ask her about it, ask me instead.. I can share some juicy gossips to you about that guy." the brunette whispers to you with a smirk.

"you know those two?" ".....no." "I can smell the lies from here." "that's just the cigarettes." "what are you two fussing about?" the girl who dragged thy asses into a private karaoke room asked with a stern look.

"nothing." You and Shoko instantly replied, "okay, let's just sing 'Bring me to life' by Evanescence or something, the both of you makes me wanna become an edgelord."

"You think she'll give me her number?" "don't know don't care." the boy groaned under his breath as he leans back on the couch, placing an open magazine over his face.

Satoru whines at his best friends lack of tact, "c'monnn... throw me a bone here! I wanna know what you think!"

"I think I don't want to, and I think she doesn't wanna give you her number neither." Suguru grunts at Satoru, "In that case, i'm gonna continue to masturbating to Waka Inoue."

"oh my fucking god stop." The ravenette snaps, raising a hand to smack Satoru on the back, "Yeowch!" the white-haired boy shrieked. "This is why your ex-girlfriends dumped you." Suguru sighs as he sits back down while Satoru gasps, "buddy you did not!" he pouted as he slouched on the couch beside his best friend.

"If you want her number, then YOU ask, stop asking me to be your wingman, I have curses to feed." Suguru grumbled, "fine! if I manage to get her number, you owe me a Waka Inoue poster." "I hope she fucking throws you in a ditch."

"I'm serious! you owe me one!" Satoru wails as he gives a series of soft punches onto the other boys arm.

6:03 pm

"I'm never letting the you sing again." You mumbled under your breath as you looked at Shoko with a 'what the actual fuck?' expression, "agreed." Utahime chimes in as she raises a hand.

"I literally never asked to be here." The brunette simply states as she lights up another cigarette while the three of you walk out the karaoke bar after hearing the deafening screeches of Shoko's attempt at covering a Nirvana song.

"Kurt Cobain didn't die for this shit." You retorted as you crossed your arms, Utahime just chuckles at the two of you bickering, "okay, but where the hell do you guys wanna go next?" the girl asks, "I wanna go home." "for real." "tsk, well that's something both you and Shoko can agree on" Utahime huffs as she scowls.

"it's 6pm!" You replied, "I wanna plop down on my bed already! maybe go on MySpace too." you added, oh how you wish to be at home, in front of your computer posting a few updates on your MySpace account, "You're not even a scene kid! 2chan is way better!" Utahime argued,

"You don't do anything on your wall besides sharing pictures of stars though." "2chan still on top!"

"Suguru, can you push me harder onto her..?!"

You suddenly felt a heavy weight pushing you over, Utahime and Shoko immediately catching you before your face hits the pavement, "Oh my god what the fu-" but before you could finish, you get cut off by another voice, "my god i'm so sorry, anyways.." Oh shit! it's the white haired twink from earlier!

You stared up at the unknown guy, while Utahime just looks like she's ready to bark from behind you, "hey! it's the cute girl from earlier!" the boy remarked as he examines you up close, now if you could smell bullshit, this boy would've been stinking, he's obviously acting.

"Oh, it's you." You deadpanned, before turning your head to look back at Utahime, who which was already getting dragged by Shoko already to a safer distance from you and the boy.

"So uhm, do I know you?" You asked, as you turned to look back at the guy, "no, you don't, but you will." he smirks and shoots you a wink, in to which you cringed at.

"okay, so.. who're you?" You asked once again as you tilt your head slightly to the side, he gasps, mocking an offended expression, "you must be living under a rock! i'm the one and only Satoru!" he exclaimed proudly as he puts both hands on his hips and puffs out his chest.

"okay..???" "okay? okay! okay... give me your number!" he yaps, you covered your ears, why must he be so loud, at night too.

"oh my god please shut up." You groaned, "Give me your number first puh-lease!" Satoru pleads as he gets on his knees while clasping his hands, practically begging onto you like he was Lucifer begging for God's forgiveness.

"how'd you even find me?!" "I'm not telling you that."

"You don't even know my name, do ya?" You questioned as you shot him an unamused look, in which he just blankly stares at you, blinking a few times before nervously chuckling, "I-I was gonna ask, don't worry." He muttered sheepishly as he grins widely at you.

"it's [Y/n]" you replied instantly, his form immediately perking up while his vibrant blue eyes light up. "Nice!" He says as he gives you a thumbs up, "now give me your number." "no.'

You see him immediately slouching down as his grin falters into a look of disbelief, "eh?! why?" he asks.

'On god, I don't know you." you sighed, meanwhile, Suguru just facepalms at his best friend's stupidity.

It didn't take an idiot that long to know why someone wouldn't wanna give them their number, yet here's Satoru, sulking, because he couldn't get her number, AND most importantly, he can't get the Waka Inoue poster.

An idea then suddenly pops up in his mind as he immediately stands up straight again. "what about a date?" he asks, a bright smile plastered on his face, eyes glistening with hope, everything was so bright you had to squint your eyes when looking at him, even his dark ass shades can't reflect back the amount of light this man was radiating,

now you can't deny that, can ya? this man wants you and he'll do everything in his power to have you, and the poster he had on the line.

"o-okay, jeez..." you muttered softly as you covered your eyes with the back of your hand, Satoru just beamed even more. "then it's a date!" He happily exclaims as he ruffled your hair.

You softly smiled at him, although he was an absolute man-child, he was a cute one, maybe you will give him your number after this.

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #☆— VAMP fluff!

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fromgoy2joy · 3 months

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Impermanence

the impermanence of this world is emphasized a lot in Judaism.

Embalming is prohibited. On Shabbat, your day of rest, you may not do anything that will last. The entire point of a Sukkot is that it is a temporary lodging. There’s an entire debate on should a sukkot be able to stand up in harsh winds and what exact miles per hour.

I could go on and on, but overall it touches on this idea that-

"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return unto the ground for out of it wast thou taken

for dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return. "

This may seem like a basic abrahamic value. But it goes farther for me- even though every Ash Wednesday as a Catholic, I would get the blot of black ash upon my forehead to remind me of my fate, I still wanted to be preserved. I went to confession every week, and wrote in my journal how much I wanted to be a saint. I wanted my bones to be buried under the altar at a cathedral, unforgotten to this world. I wanted statues and churches named after me, in the way that young people are afraid that each thing they do now is irrelevant.

But that never felt right.

My journey in Judaism has taught me a few things. Mainly, that I do not do the things I do now because of the promise of awards and reverence after death in this mortal plain. I do not stay awake at night wondering my fate of heaven or hell. Instead, my religion lies in the here and now on this earth.

As a Christian, I was other-worldly, demanded to live in a realm where my soul was in constant peril. I was told that I didn’t belong to this world, could not belong to it, not if I didn’t want to burn.

Now, I look in the mirror and I see myself as being carved out of the beautiful dirt and dust. I am meant to be here, living out a religion that focuses on life. I don’t know where I’ll go when I die- some say a soul washing machine, others contemplate the idea of reincarnation to complete mitzvahs, others leave it at “returning to GD,” and still some say that it’s just death.

But I am impermanent here, and rarer than the stars above. And when I die, my memory will be a blessing to all that loved, knew or heard about me, until the knowledge of my existence softly putters out.

And I think about that, looking in the mirror, and I grin. I see the crinkling smile lines that will one day form besides my eyes permanently, when I am long into my journey as being a Jewish woman.

#fromgoy2joy thoughts #jumblr #jewish convert #jewish #jewblr #jewish tumblr #tw catholicism #tw christianity #poetic #jewish conversion journey #jewish conversion #ex catholic to jewish convert specifically

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verona2314 · 6 days

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Judgment of the Damned (translation) PART XI

Link part X

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 11: Defying the Limits

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Hello everyone! I apologize for the delay with this chapter. Once again, it was a bit challenging to translate due to Zestial's archaic dialect. I hope you enjoy it!

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Zestial

To say he was furious would be an understatement. The Overlord was indignant as if he had been directly attacked. It couldn't be a coincidence that the radio demon had asked about the Limbo just before the appearance of a judge. Alastor had blatantly lied to his face, and that wouldn't be overlooked. However, Zestial was not someone who let himself be carried away by strong emotions, as it denoted a lack of character and control. No. He preferred to act with intelligence and take advantage of the situation. Therefore, without announcing himself, he showed up at the Hazbin Hotel with the intention of unsettling Alastor and, hopefully, locating the minor judge. Zestial sensed that the radio demon had managed to keep her close.

Once in front of the door, he knocked gently on the stained glass, admiring the building. Clearly, the reconstruction had greatly benefited the hotel. The details in the architecture seemed curious to him, but tasteful. After a few minutes, the door was opened by a timid, frail sinner, whose eyes looked at him in astonishment. Zestial knew it wouldn't be difficult to scare him and thus enjoy a delightful scream of terror, but his priorities at that moment were different.

“Good day, young sir," he greeted courteously. "Pray, what be thy name?" "Adrian," the boy replied timidly. Zestial couldn't help but smile. This boy was intimidated by his mere presence. He seemed like a fairly new soul and doubted he was very cautious. He decided to seize this opportunity. "Very well, Adrian. Permit me to present myself, I am Zestial. I have ventured hither in pursuit of my esteemed comrade Alastor. I surmise he is presently engaged. As an Overlord myself, I can empathize."

"Also an Overlord?" the boy replied, widening his eyes. "Unfortunately, the radio demon is not available at the moment. I believe he is hosting his radio show at the station."

"In sooth, might I speaketh with thy grace, the judge who resideth in this inn?" he inquired nonchalantly, trusting the sinner wouldst be ensnared in the stratagem

“Do you know the judge?" Adrian asked, surprised.

"Verily!" he replied, barely containing his laughter. The young man had unwittingly validated his conjectures. The judge did lodge at the inn. "I have e'en kept vigil over her from afar since her advent into these realms.

"Really? But she has never mentioned you," the young man inquired, with a hint of skepticism. Perhaps he wasn't as naive as Zestial had thought.

"Of course she hasn't mentioned me," Zestial expounded. "Thy lady had to keep her connections hidden. Now that her presence in the infernal realm is no longer shrouded in secrecy, there is no utility in maintaining discretion. Thus, I would be beholden to thee if thou wouldst lead me unto her.

"You speak a bit strange," the young man observed, then sighed. "She's still a bit weakened. She woke up just yesterday. It's okay. Just because you're a friend of hers and Alastor's. But don't tell Vaggie or she'll probably kick me out of the hotel."

The Overlord contained a smile. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to convince this young man. Luck had played in his favor, as if someone else had opened the door, this scenario would never have unfolded.

As Adrian led him through the hotel corridors, Zestial took the opportunity to memorize every detail: every nook, every corner, every elevator. He decided not to let his guard down in case he encountered anyone else. However, his concentration was interrupted by the sound of tiny footsteps behind him. Turning around, he found a small lady with a single large eye watching him with a disturbing smile. Zestial merely looked at her with curiosity.

"Uh, you seem like a very bad boy... very bad and scary," said the red-haired woman followed by a chilling laugh.

"She's Niffty," Adrian explained nervously. "She's a bit odd, but she's not bad. Anyway, I recommend you don't be alone with her."

Zestial remained silent, feeling unsettled by the way the little woman was looking at him. He simply nodded. The lady started walking towards him, which put him on alert.

"Niffty! I forgot to tell you that someone dirtied the windows in the lobby," Adrian urged. At this, the tiny sinner made a sound of annoyance and proceeded to leave. Zestial found himself surprised, sighing with relief. "We'd better continue before she finds out I lied to her."

Zestial trailed behind the youth, casting occasional glances rearward. Though loath to concede, he hadn't experienced such discomfort in centuries. The prospect of encountering that dame anew held no allure. Finally, the young man stopped in front of a door, indicating that it was the judge's room. Adrian knocked softly on the wood with his knuckles.

"Yes?" came a pleasant voice from within.

"Judge Victoria, you have a visitor," Adrian continued. Now Zestial knew her Honor's name.

"Let them in," the woman's voice came after a few long seconds.

Zestial entered the room without Adrian. Lying on the bed was a woman with chestnut hair and amber eyes, looking at him defiantly yet with a hint of intrigue. The judge's presence was striking, her upright posture adding to her aura of dignity. Zestial held his breath for a moment. He was facing a strong woman not easily intimidated. She reminded him of Carmilla, whom he deeply respected. However, he didn't know if this judge felt any compassion or had someone to protect, unlike Carmilla, who was willing to do anything for her daughters. The woman didn't avert her gaze from him for a single moment and slowly began to arch an eyebrow.

"Well?" Victoria asked in a calm yet firm voice. "How may I assist you, Mr. Zestial?"

“I should not marvel that thou knowest who I am. I suppose thou camest prepared to these domains. I am sorry for troubling thee even in thy weakness, but thy appearance in the news deeply caught my attention. It was imperative for me to finally meet thee,” he responded with a slight bow. He chose to show himself respectful and courteous.

"I sense you wish to know what brings me here," the judge concluded, remaining calm, with a slight smile on her lips.

"Verily. Furthermore, I shan't deny that having thy friendship is advantageous. Besides, I wish to inquire further about the Limbo. I have always been fascinated by the legends surrounding that domain," responded the Overlord, taking a few steps forward. The woman was intriguing. Zestial could wager that Alastor was already doing his utmost to gain the lady's trust. A challenging endeavor, undoubtedly.

"I must inform you that I cannot divulge much information. Nor do I intend to favor anyone. What I can say is that I have come here to report on the situation of Hell to the Supreme Judges. It has been a long time, and it is necessary to update the information we possess. To do so, I intend to remain as neutral as possible," said Victoria, with a cunning gleam in her eyes. "That being said, I am very glad to have your presence here... what better than an Overlord to speak to me about this circle of hell?"

Zestial could not refrain from a light laughter. The judge was playing her cards to gather information. "I understand. Yet it seemeth more suspicious to me that the supreme judges wish to update their knowledge about hell at this moment. As thou thyself didst point out, it hath been a long time. Surely there is some event that motivated such interest. Regarding the other matter... Dost thou not already have another Overlord by thy side?"

"Perhaps you are giving too much credit to the supremes and they simply needed something to entertain themselves with. And about Alastor, he hasn't been in hell as long as you have. When exactly did you arrive in hell? Was it difficult for you to be an Overlord? Do you think you are different from the Zestial who arrived in these domains?" said Victoria with genuine interest.

"Why dost thou inquire so deeply into me?" he asked, somewhat surprised. He could perceive that the judge was being genuine. However, that did not imply that she had no hidden motives behind that curiosity.

"I already told you. You managed to catch my attention. After all, you managed to make your way to my room by tricking Adrian, I assume... Is your curiosity about a minor judge that strong? What motivates that curiosity? What sparked that aspect of your personality? What are your motivations and what are the sources of those motivations? I believe it is convenient for me to fully understand such an ancient Overlord as yourself to infer the impacts that your presence has had on hell and how it influenced the current state of this circle," Victoria pointed out with great eloquence

Zestial began to laugh. This girl knew how to get someone talking, and he wasn't going to deny her that. He decided to sit in the chair beside the bed, conjuring a cup of tea. The girl was charming. He thought she could be a good ally of Carmilla's, or at the very least, a friend. "Very well, Your Honor," he said, getting comfortable. "Thou hast convinced me with thy eloquence. I shall answer thy questions, but I want something in return. Nothing complicated. Allow me one of these days to introduce thee to a friend of mine." The Overlord saw the judge nod. The girl inspired confidence. Her elegant presence and charisma made her a being with great potential. Zestial dared to think that this girl might even get the nobility on her good side and influence them. Perhaps she was the pawn they were looking for to unify the masses and have the princess under their influence. "So, Your Honor. Where do we begin?"

Alastor

After finishing his broadcast, he decided to linger at the station for a while. He tried to stop thinking about yesterday's events, but he found himself making excuses to visit Victoria. The judge had openly recognized his ability as a radio host and had also sincerely thanked him for his small rescue. Every time he thought about it, he felt a certain pride, but then the whirlwind of thoughts would come crashing back. He still had many questions to ask her, but he needed to find a way to confront her without his mind descending into chaos. On the other hand, he couldn't waste too much time, as she was now in the spotlight of prominent figures.

The judge was the key to his freedom. He needed to get her to nullify the contract that bound him, even if there was no real legal basis for it. She must have sufficient authority or at least the necessary knowledge. However, he found it difficult to believe that she would act corruptly. He would have to convince her somehow that it was for the greater good, or simply deceive her. But that would have to wait. For now, he needed to learn more about the Limbo and the Supreme Judges, because why limit his ambition only to Hell when he could aspire to also pull the strings of Limbo? Everyone had a weakness. Lucifer's was Charlie, for example. Surely the Supreme Judges were no different. Moreover, Alastor had no doubt that those beings could also die. Patience was needed.

"Alastor!" he heard Vaggie shout from outside his studio. "You better come out of there. Niffty is being more weird than her usual self, and I can't find Adrian anywhere. Take care of it."

Alastor frowned in irritation. Weren't they capable of dealing with anything on their own? Interrupted in his moment of peace, he had no choice but to investigate what was going on. He transported himself out of his studio with Vaggie, concealing his annoyance. "There's no need to shout. It's quite annoying," he informed the former exterminator.

"Ugh, don't you hear the commotion?"

"Mmmm no," the radio host responded mockingly. "We all have the right to rest from others, and I've learned to ignore them, like white noise. Well, let's not waste any time. I'll go see what's going on with our little companion." Once again, Alastor transported himself, arriving in the lobby, where Niffty was running frantically around everywhere, beside herself. Then, the small woman headed to different areas of the hotel, non-stop. Eventually, Alastor stood in front of her, causing Niffty to bump into his legs. "What's going on, Niffty? Some particularly elusive insect?"

"Something like that, Alastor," she replied with that disturbing laughter. "A very bad boy slipped away from me. Adrian tricked me with the windows."

"I beg you pardon?" he inquired, confused. Had Niffty's instability reached the point of delirium?

"Adrian brought us a very, very bad man, Alastor. With four eyes and a spider leg bow tie. Taller than you. I'm looking for him to take something from him and add it to my collection," Niffty continued, even more unrestrained

Alastor felt a chill run down his spine. That description matched Zestial. How could he have underestimated the Overlord so much? It was only a matter of time before he connected the dots and appeared at the hotel, but he never thought it would be so soon or in such an inconspicuous manner. How had no one noticed his presence? Without wasting a second, he appeared in Victoria's room, finding an unexpected scene.

Sitting upright on the bed, with a cup of tea, was the judge, engaged in a friendly and lively conversation with Zestial, who was casually seated in the chair next to the bed. Both fell silent and looked at him when they realized his abrupt arrival in the room. Zestial smiled at him, squinting his eyes.

"Alastor," Victoria called out. "It's rude to appear like this in someone's room," she scolded, tilting her head.

""I would venture to say the offense is greater considering that this is a lady's chamber," the old Overlord added indifferently, but Alastor knew that Zestial was enjoying his humiliation.

"My apologies, dear judge, but I thought your integrity might be threatened upon learning of Zestial's presence in the hotel," he reluctantly replied. Of course Zestial would play the role of the gentleman!

"My integrity threatened by Zestial? Oh, don't be absurd," Victoria chuckled lightly. "This gentleman is very kind, with impeccable manners and a fascinating story. We're simply learning from each other."

"Verily, thy grace hath a silver tongue," Zestial continued, his gaze fixed upon Alastor. "Yea, she is a charming damsel. I comprehend why thou didst keep her hidden, Alastor. But thou needst not bear the task of her welfare alone any longer, for we are now comrades," the archaic Overlord said, placing his hand on the judge's shoulder.

"Splendid!" replied the broadcaster, masking his irritation. Zestial had barely interacted with Victoria and already he called her his friend! Not only did he have the audacity to touch her shoulder, but also to proclaim himself her protector when only he had that right. "But Zestial, believe me, it wasn't merely out of preference that I hid the judge's presence. Her grace insisted on keeping her visit confidential," he continued, feigning indifference. "I hope there are no hard feelings between us." Alastor felt his ego being attacked by the Overlord and was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing him irritated. He wanted to deny it, but he was deeply frustrated that Zestial thought it was so easy to gain the judge's trust, as if all the efforts he, Alastor, had made so far were worth nothing. It was like being a spectator in his own play. No, Alastor had already decided that Victoria was his source of entertainment, and he wasn't willing to let anyone else monopolize that fun. After all, she was his challenge.

It's reassuring to know that I have the support of two Overlords," said Victoria amiably, taking a sip of tea. Her carefree attitude infuriated Alastor even more.

"Well, dear judge, I fail to see why bother Zestial when I am more than enough," replied the radio demon, not holding back his words but maintaining a cheerful tone. "After all, he's already somewhat Carmilla's protector. Besides, you seem to have a knack for causing trouble, don't you?"

"Really? Well, Zestial, you do seem to enjoy looking after people, don't you?" Victoria remarked, looking at the archaic being, ignoring Alastor's sarcastic comment.

"Verily, I cannot gainsay it. 'Tis but individuals of worth. Both possess determination and strength of character. 'Twould be naive not to wager on thee," replied Zestial with pride

"In that case, Alastor is right. I truly don't want to inconvenience you. And from our conversation, I can tell that you are a busy individual," remarked the judge, setting a certain boundary with Zestial. "But don't doubt that I will come to you if I need help."

"Fear not, Judge Victoria. I expect no more. And Alastor," continued the ancient Overlord, transporting himself before him, "There is no ill will. Your grace has vouched for thee already."

Alastor glanced at Zestial. Clearly, those words weren't entirely honest. The archaic being was going to seize any opportunity to level the playing field. He didn't blame him. Certainly, the situation could have been worse. "How delightful to hear that, dear friend."

"I bid thee farewell for the moment. We shall meet again, Judge," concluded Zestial as he departed the room.

Alastor remained silent, gazing at the chair where Zestial had been sitting just minutes ago, trying to contain his annoyance. How could the Overlord claim friendship with Victoria as if it were so easy? He hadn't even interacted with her enough to arrogate that title. How could he be losing ground so easily? And why on earth wasn't Victoria seeing through Zestial's machinations? Didn't she see that he, too, was an opportunist looking out for his own agenda? Why did it bother him so much that she was giving in so easily? Why did he hate that someone else was trying to enter the game between them? It churned his stomach with irritation that Zestial would seek to win the favor of the judge in the same way he did.

"He's a pleasant fellow. Don't you think?" Victoria remarked with a smile. That was the last straw.

"Are you out of your mind? Do you really think Zestial is a good fellow? Don't be naive! You're cautious with me, but with him, you let yourself be fooled by pretty words and manners? He's another opportunist seeking his own benefit. Like everyone else here!" he reproached, barely containing his frustration.

"Oh, come on," she replied with a small laugh. "He was quite pleasant and helpful. And he didn't even make much effort to hide his true nature."

"Does your arrogance cloud your judgment? Getting involved with him will only bring trouble. Don't trust him," he continued, growing more frustrated at Victoria's lack of seriousness. "Zestial is an ancient being who knows perfectly well how to play his cards. After all, I couldn't get rid of him back then. And here you are, playing tea party as if he were a harmless rabbit."

"You're exaggerating. I assure you this won't affect your own interests," the judge replied, shrugging.

Alastor bit his lower lip, feeling frustration and confusion creeping over him. He didn't know how to explain to Victoria what he was really feeling because he couldn't even understand it himself. Why did he always end up questioning his relationship with her? Why did her opinion of him matter so much? He couldn't help but feel a certain... emotional connection, despite his efforts to deny it. But no, it couldn't be. This is just a game, a pastime. Or is it? A means to an end. Alastor decided to try another angle and be honest. "Victoria, I didn't lie yesterday when I told you that you've earned my respect. I hope to be able to have a camaraderie with you," he finished, thinking of Rossi. Curiously, it didn't leave him satisfied, but for now, it was enough to calm his mind.

"Alastor, didn't I tell you not to underestimate me? I thought you had already learned that," Victoria said with a soft, kind and playful voice. "I understand Zestial's intentions perfectly well, and I don't take his words seriously. I simply played along. I know he's cunning, but it was necessary to enter his courtesy board to get what I wanted."

"What do you mean?" he asked, feeling curiosity slowly replacing his irritation.

"My job, Alastor. Remember that I'm here to determine if there are redeemable souls here. I hope that this investigation ends with a staggering number of salvageable souls and thus achieves a change in the system, an improvement. For that, I need to have information on as many souls as possible. And I don't just mean the story of their lives. For that, I could simply lock myself in the Limbo archive. I need to know their motivations, the source of their decisions, every introspection they've made since their arrival in hell, their reflections, hopes, and shattered dreams. I need to know the depth of their hearts." Alastor absorbed Victoria's words, surprised by the depth of her mission in hell. For a moment, his mind shifted away from frustration and immersed itself in the seriousness of the task she had undertaken. "So, is Zestial just a pawn in your larger game?" he asked, seeking to fully understand Victoria's strategy.

She nodded with a smile, her eyes shining with determination. "I hate to call it a game, but yes. Zestial is just one of the many players on this board. My goal is to gather as much information as possible to make informed decisions about the fate of these souls. To truly make a change. There are many things I don't agree with in this system," she explained. "I can't afford to overlook any opportunity to obtain valuable information, even if it means playing the role Zestial has for me. You must understand that to achieve this, I must be open with the souls of this place and show a genuine interest in them, something I truly have. I'm not here just for the Supreme Judges; I'm here for myself and for my ideals."

Alastor couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The Radio Host couldn't help but see himself reflected in the judge's ambition. She looked at him confused for his reaction. "Don't misunderstand me, my dear judge. I'm not mocking you. I just find it incredible how, despite being so different, having such divergent goals, we both long for something greater. The pursuit of power and knowledge, the need to challenge the limits imposed on us. Darling, you want to challenge the status quo, playing this game to achieve your goals. Your methods may not resemble mine, but whether you like it or not, you and I are not so different," he concluded, leaning on his cane with a wide smile. Realizing that her presence went beyond blind obedience confirmed his suspicions. This woman was much more than she let on. She was a force that not only had to be reckoned with but also mastered.

The judge looked at him perplexed. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to deny his words, but she couldn't find a way to argue against them. Her amber-colored eyes looked at him completely open. Alastor couldn't help but smile conspiratorially at Victoria's confused expression. He had never seen her put on such a different expression from her elegant and dignified aura, from her usual calm demeanor. It was a sight he was deeply enjoying. "Perhaps you're right," Victoria replied, looking away.

"Don't be so surprised, my dear judge. After all, we are two forces sharing a determination that defies established norms. Beings like us always strive for something, be it power, knowledge, justice, or simply freedom." Alastor fell silent after his exchange with Victoria, letting his own words resonate in his mind. The feeling of discomfort was making its presence felt again, but this time he wasn't going to let it dominate him. He had to face it. He couldn't deny it anymore; it was impossible to continue rejecting any hint of an emotional connection with the judge. He had convinced himself that these interactions were just a game, a strategy meant to satisfy his own desires and ambitions, to find an endless source of entertainment. He scolded himself. He should have listened to his instinct when it screamed at him to stay away. The situation was completely bewildering and inexplicable, but a fact nonetheless. How could he have allowed this to happen? To have an emotional attachment? It was ridiculous, and it infuriated him. He felt as if he had betrayed his own nature and identity. He still had time to distance himself, but a part of him refused to do so because he still had goals to achieve in which she was an important card. Once again, she was his challenge, and now he had even less reason to allow anyone to claim her attention, time, or interest.

"I find it hard to admit that you understand me more than I thought. I thought there would be mockery or disdain from your part. You're more insightful than I had anticipated," Victoria admitted with a small smile curving her lips. "Perhaps this camaraderie you seek is a good idea."

Those words were enough for Alastor to feel that warm sensation in his stomach again. However, that feeling was quickly replaced by the frustration that all of this caused him, by the betrayal he felt toward himself. Without thinking, he approached Victoria and leaned towards her. The judge looked absolutely surprised.

"My dear judge, I'm glad you understand," Alastor said in a cold voice, "but for that, it's crucial that there are no secrets between us," he continued, taking her chin so she wouldn't look away. "Tell me, my dear Victoria. Why do you bleed red?"

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