#as far as church scenes go it's neck and neck with the one at the beginning of moby dick for just pure on the nose symbolic imagery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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purity ring

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, reader is virgin and religious, purity rings/waiting until marriage, virginity/innocence kink, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex <3 (yay! for once!), one scene takes place in a church

you are perfect. an innocent angel, untouched by anyone. you wore a silver purity ring firmly on your finger, gifted to you by your father on your 16th birthday. you don’t take the promise you made that day lightly, and while you have had one serious boyfriend in high school, you have remained abstinent.

rafe overlooked you at first, seeing you as a sweet harmless girl, but didn’t take any real interest until you grew out of your teen years, your body developing without him realizing until he saw you at the beach one day, wearing what would be a modest swimsuit if it wasn’t for you wide hips and large breasts, threatening to spill out even with your high neckline.

rafe took a liking to you right then and there. he knows how pure you are, how you are a proud virgin and don’t partake in any of the partying or drinking like most of the people your age, even though you are over 21. it may be legal, but you always say it doesn’t feel right, and only have a bit of wine at dinner on occasions.

“hello.” rafe says as he sits down on the church pew next to you. you give him a confused look. you have never seen rafe at your church before, and you thought that he wasn’t religious, but you are never one to judge, so you wipe the confused look off your face and give him a pleasant smile instead.

“hello, rafe. it’s been a while.” “i know, haven’t really seen you since high school.” he says.

“i don’t think we have the same interests.” you giggle. if you were more into partying, you’re sure you would see rafe a whole lot more often.

“really?” rafe questions. “you didn’t develop a love for golf since we graduated?”

you scoff, shaking your head. rafe smiles at you, and you are surprised to find yourself liking his attention.

“how about mini golf?” he asks. “i could take you after the service. get ice cream too.”

you go to say no, not wanting to hang out with someone as wild and crazy as him, but you remember your vow to god to not judge others, and end up agreeing.

rafe smirks at you when the pastor starts his sermon and you turn your attention away from rafe.

hes sweet throughout the whole date, respectful of your boundaries and chatting with you with seemingly real interest. he asks you when you finish all 18 holes of mini golf if you’d be willing to see him again.

you say yes, which leads to more and more dates until you’re comfortable with rafe, even going as far to officially begin courting him.

you fall head over heels, in love with the attention he gives you until you're kissing in the back seat of his truck, his hands moving all over your body.

“wait, rafe-” you pull away with a gasp. “we can't.”

rafe frowns but nods. he's been progressing the physical touch more and more, trying to get you to open up to him, but every time things start to get hot and heavy, you stop him.

he is determined to change things, especially when he realizes he's lost sight of why he became interested in you in the first place. he wants to claim you, not just court you, and he's quickly falling just as hard.

rafe convinces you to spend the night. a movie marathon and cuddle session. you tell rafe that you need a separate bed to sleep in, but he's hoping to convince you to share one with him.

rafe ignores the movie playing on the tv, his head buried in your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck.

“rafey.” you giggle and squirm when he sucks a spot onto your neck.

“come on, baby.” rafe begs, moving to kiss your jaw. “haven't i proven how serious i am about us?” he questions, his hand resting on your thigh, pushing it closer to your core. you can't help the moan that escapes your lips, your body betraying your mind.

“just let me make you feel good. you'll love it, i promise.”

you think it over, briefly glancing at the ring on your finger, at the promise you made.

“baby.” rafe cups your hand in his, taking the ring out of your sight as he captures your mouth in a kiss.

he moves so you're laying down against his pillows, covering your body with his, hovering over top of you.

he moves one hand to under your knee, pulling it so you have to wrap it around his waist. rafe keeps kissing you, keeps you breathless and dizzy as he presses his hips into you, letting his hard length rub over your core.

you moan into his mouth, looping your arms around his shoulders.

“please.” rafe says against your lips. you blink your eyes open to meet his bright blue ones. “i love you baby.”

you melt at rafes word, giving him a nod of permission. “i love you too.” you coo.

rafe presses his lips against yours, letting you get lost in the kiss as he continues to grind into you. he can tell from the way your other leg loops around him that you like the feeling a lot.

rafe lets a hand wander underneath your top, feeling the smooth skin of your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breast over your bra.

you reach behind your back and unclip it, letting rafe continue to feel you up as you take the bra off from under your shirt, tugging it away.

rafe grips your breast, toying with your nipple immediately, not letting you think too hard about what he's doing, needing to keep you focused on what new part he's touching.

he makes sure to give both sides of your chest equal attention. he wishes he could pull away from the kiss and rip your shirt off, wanting to see your tits bare, but you keep your arms locked around his shoulders as you kiss.

“baby, i can make you feel even better with my mouth.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“n… no.” you whine. “don't want you to look.” you feel enough shame as it is letting rafe defile you this way, and you certainly aren't confident enough to have him seeing you naked.

“how about i turn the tv off?” rafe offers. the light is already off in the room, and theres only a bit of moonlight peaking through the drawn curtains, the tv providing all the light in the room. you nod as he reaches for the remote, clicking the movie off.

“wait-” you realize that he's forgetting something. “you need to use a condom.” while you may be giving up your virginity to rafe, you certainly will not be letting him get you pregnant before marriage.

“yeah.” rafe fumbles in the dark through his nightstand, pulling a condom out and setting it on the bed for when he's ready.

rafe leaves your shirt on, hoping it will make you feel more comfortable as he tugs on your pajama shorts. it's a bit of a fumble in the dark, but he eventually gets them off.

he reaches for your underwear next, feeling the frilly fabric against his fingers. rafe has to pause before taking them off to squeeze his cock through his pants, needing relief. he's finally so close to his goal, finally close to taking you, to being your first.

“just tell me if anything hurts.” rafe says, taking two fingers and running them through your slit, feeling how wet he's made you.

“rafe!” you shout.

“does it feel good baby?” rafe asks, pressing a finger against your entrance, needing to open you up quickly before he can't control himself and hurts you by forcing his cock inside you too soon.

“yeah, feels really good.” you moan out. rafe moves his thumb to your clit, glad he knows pussies well enough to find it easily in the dark. he let's the sudden overwhelming pleasure take over your mind as he plunges his finger in.

he can't help the groan he lets out when he feels your tightness wrap around his digit. he begins to pump his finger, his thumb continuing to massage your clit, smiling at your nonstop moans. he's sure that you've never even touched yourself before by your reaction.

rafe drops himself onto his stomach between your legs, needing to have your sweetness on his tongue. he swears you taste better as he licks around your folds, knowing that you haven't been sullied by other men.

he moves his thumb in favor of licking at your clit, pushing a second finger into your cunt as soon as he feels a bit of give.

you reach down, gripping rafes hair in your hands. you push his face further into your pussy, his fingers stretching you out when he begins to scissor them.

“can't wait to be inside you.” rafe says, his voice vibrating against your skin.

“want you now.” you tell rafe. you need more than just his fingers pumping into you, need to feel connected in the most intimate way possible.

rafe moves quick, shucking his pajamas and underwear off. his cock is finally freed. he takes your hand in his, wrapping it around his shaft while he kneels against the bed.

you aren't fully sure what to do to make rafe feel good, but you stroke your hand up and down, and judging from the sound rafe makes, it feels good.

rafe can feel your purity ring as you stroke him. he grabs the condom and takes it out of its wrapping, pushing your hand out of the way as he slides the rubber over his cock.

“gonna take you in this position, as long as it feels good.” rafe says, moving back between your legs. he gets a pillow and shoved it under your hips, raising them up and hopefully making it easier for you to take him.

“rafey.” you whine, hand reaching out for his. rafe loops his fingers through yours, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. rafe moves slowly, his breathing heavy and deliberate as he splits you open, his heavy cock touching places no one has ever gone before.

“does it hurt?” rafe asks once he's seated all the way inside of you.

you whine in response, causing rafe to frown. as much as he wants to make you his, he doesn't want to put you in any sort of pain. he leans over your body, pressing his lips to your cheeks.

“im sorry baby, but you're doing so good for me.”

“just-” you gasp when you move your hips a little, making him touch a new part of you. “just give me a minute.”

“take your time.” rafe says. “i love you.” he thought he was just saying it to get you into his bed, but rafe finds himself really meaning it.

you breathe deeply for a minute before pressing your lips to rafes. “you can move now.”

rafe hums against your lips, continuing to kiss you as he begins with gentle thrusts, wanting to build you up. he finds much more patience within himself now that he's been inside of you.

you move your arms back to rafes shoulders, pressing your nails into his back, dragging them down his back when his thrusts increase in tempo.

“scratching me already? what a dirty girl.” rafe chuckles into your ear.

“shh.” you complain, brows scrunching together, not wanting to think about how dirty you are being at the moment, wanting to focus on how good rafe is making you feel rather than the fact that you're letting go of your virtue.

“my innocent little girlfriend, squeezing around my cock.” rafe continues to tease you.

“it feels so good.” you say, as if it's some sort of excuse as to why your cunt is repeatedly pulsing around his dick.

“i know it does baby. your pussy feels so good too. so tight for me, my little virgin.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a kiss. “although i guess you're not a virgin anymore.”

you cry out when rafe presses his thumb back to your clit, whatever response you had brewing cut off as he begins to thrust with earnest now, able to slide in much easier than when he first got inside of you.

“gonna cum for me?” rafe questions. he can tell from the way your body has gone tight that you must be close.

“i-i think so.” you whine, feeling a rush of wetness flood to your pussy, rafes thumb pushing your clit perfectly as your orgasm rushes over your body, a loud moan forcing its way out of your mouth, your entire body shaking with the force.

your cunt is squeezing so tightly rafe almost can't thrust his cock back into you, but he manages to force himself through your walls to release into the condom deep into you, your pussy milking him. you would surely be bred if it wasn't for the thin layer of rubber.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly as you breathe deeply underneath him, coming down from the ecstacy that he just brought you to.

rafe moves to pull his condom off, discarding it in the trash.

“can we put our pajamas back on to sleep?” you ask as rafe begins to get back into bed. he can't help but smile at you, still so shy even after he had his mouth buried between your legs.

“of course.” rafe gives you your underwear and shorts back, eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark, but still not able to make out many details as he redresses himself, but leaves his shirt off.

rafe slides into bed next to you, pulling you in close. you fall asleep almost instantly, which rafe is glad about, not giving you a moment to regret what just happened on a tired brain.

rafe hears your breathing change and grabs your hand, sliding your silver purity ring off your finger. it's his now.

you don't overthink the act when you wake up in the morning, especially when rafe sinks to his stomach and eats you out in the morning light until you cum on his tongue.

you even go as far to thank him for showing you how good sex can be for a couple. you are certain rafe will become your husband, and you suppose you are just starting your martial acts early.

you are walking with rafe through a crowded restaurant the next day. he's treating you to a nice dinner when you realize he has a silver chain hanging off his neck.

you furrow your brow, tugging it out from underneath his shirt, gasping when you realize that your purity ring is hanging around his neck.

“well, it's not like you could keep wearing it.” rafe smirks, leaving the ring out for everyone to see.

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jessamine-rose · 7 months

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♱ Dance with the Devil ♱

Against my will, I was inspired to write more for WHB. Istg some of these characters aren’t even my biases but their paraphilias are too creative. I hope you all enjoy reading this <3

Characters:: Sitri, Leviathan, Astaroth, Glasyalabolas, Paimon, Amon, Marbas, Gabriel, Minhyeok

Note:: Nsfw, pls take note of each character’s paraphilia before reading, noncon for Gabriel, MH-2 spoilers for Minhyeok, MINORS DNI

♡ If you like black tea, you are a perfect fit for Sitri. He often brews your favorite drink for the purpose of enjoying your satisfied smile, your bittersweet kisses, the melody of your palpitations as he makes love to you. If you ever send him a recording of your heartbeat, he will save it on his phone and listen to it religiously in your absence. Just don’t be shocked if he uses your gift for impure reasons; his imagination can only do so much.

♡ Leviathan enjoys the sensation of your hands around his neck, but what more if you were to experiment with his kink? Does he get more excited when you use your bare hands? Does he prefer the metal chill of rings or the soft lace of gloves against his skin? Would he come faster if you dig your fingernails into his throat—and if yes, what if your nails were longer, sharper? There are so many factors at play and you have all night to find out~

♡ Astaroth’s kink is perfect for literature lovers!! If you write erotica, he will gladly proofread your work, going so far as to enact the scenes and his suggested revisions. Another time, you asked him to read you a “bedtime story” and he complied after much pestering. He accepted your book and read it aloud in his soothing voice…then upon reaching a raunchy scene, he looked up from the page, met your cheeky gaze, and joined you in bed <3

♡ Once you were done kink-shaming Glasyalabolas, you decided to indulge him. His paraphilia is creepy, to say the least, but you knew what you were getting into. The best method? Play dead. You can’t resist the occasional moan or involuntary shudder, especially when he is touching you, but it certainly does wonders for his arousal. You’re his Ophelia, his Sleeping Beauty—beautiful, voiceless, and completely at his mercy.

♡ The only thing Paimon enjoys more than your blood is the sight of your body decorated with cute bandages!! Once he’s had enough of you, he will treat your wounds and present you with a set of printed Band-Aids. Here, would you like a pink one for your finger? What about a heart pattern for your thigh? A smiley face on your neck? Even better, what if your Band-Aids match the stickers on his horns? Take your pick~

♡ Sometimes, you wonder if Amon gives you tasks which he knows you will fuck up. There are telltale signs—his constant gaze, a hint of a smile, empty reassurances which somehow lead you to his bedroom. It begs the question: How would he react if you were to make a mistake in bed? Would he still smile after you “accidentally” touch a sensitive spot or ruin his orgasm? How will he react once he realizes you’re doing it on purpose?

♡ If Marbas were to cite an example for the term “heaven and hell,” it would be your moments of intimacy. He encourages you to restrain him to the best of your ability—tying complicated knots, using strong materials, testing his new set of regular restraints—then use his body as you’d like. It’s difficult to say who enjoys it more, especially when you are relishing the sight of him beneath you, totally submissive and desperate for your touch.

♡ Considering your history, your sadism towards Gabriel is warranted. So once he is defeated, in a church no less, you waste no time in humiliating him. If he refuses to yield, it only takes a few minutes to bend him over the altar and force him to face the image of his God. How does it feel to be watched by the passive, artificial faces of his creator and fellow angels? At any rate, the stained glass casts such pretty shadows on his defiled body~

♡ Of course Minhyeok knows your underwear preferences. The color, the style, the type of fabric, every detail. So when he finds a black lingerie set in your closet, he recognizes it as a new purchase—but for who? The next thing he knows, he is visualizing the lingerie on you and calling you for answers. Whether or not he understands your invitation, that specific underwear will frequently disappear from your room.

♡

Sitri fic ๑ Lucifer fluff ๑ More headcanons

Fun fact, a day after I wrote Glasyalabolas and Sitri’s headcanons, they came home in my gacha pull. D-Did I summon them?? (´⊙ω⊙`)

So far, my favorite devils are Leviathan, Sitri, Astaroth, and Satan but the other characters’ paraphilias are…….interesting to write about, to say the least. Cheers to more hornii xD

Tag a WHB enjoyer!! @sparkbeast20 @2af-afterdark @d34dlysinner @pinkaditty @og-in-a-bog @h2o2-and-baking-soda @paradivis @potol0ver @obeythisass @gr0tesquerom4ntica @dobaekki @binar-es @ushitoshiii @yanmaresu @beelsjuicytitties

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

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Cardinal Sins and Other Desires

Okay, I know I have other requests that were submitted first, but I this weekend is a writing weekend because I need to decompress my mind and I wanna do something fun

But this one was requested by @cantchoosejust1 who offered a very interesting idea of Arthur and reader having to disguise themselves as a priest and a nun....and have some...interesting times.

I-

The idea is so juicy I had no choice but to do it.

This is my take on it but of course @cantchoosejust1 if it doesn’t match your expectations I’d love to take another stab at it!

It’s also probably gonna be a bit of a longer read, so strap in!

With that being said

Warnings!: NSFW, Uhhh religious type things but it’s sexy so like....if that offends you don’t read, arthur being delicious, female reader

Tags!: @mrsarthurmorgan7 @kieropal @photo1030 @pcotarelo @6kaja9

Alright, that being said, everyone, hold onto your butts, let’s get this horny train rolling!

“Dutch, this has got to be your dumbest idea yet.”

Arthur scoffs as he looks down at the ridiculous looking outfit that Hosea and Dutch have managed to just barely squeeze him into, his arms raised out to his sides.

A set of Priest’s robes that match the Nun outfit you’re wearing, and you can’t help but agree with him, you feel absolutely idiotic wearing the long black robe with it’s white accents and hood.

The black robe Arthur dons is plain, matching black buttons, and something similar to a miniature poncho rests against his shoulders, that signature white collar sits around his neck, but if it’d been a single size smaller he’d be choking.

“I have to agree.” You sigh and look down at yourself, and at the rosary beads that Hosea had placed in your hand. “This is a stupid idea. The two of us couldn’t pass off as religious figures, are you kidding me? I couldn’t quote a single thing from the Bible.”

Arthur snorts in agreement and puts his arms down to his sides, looking up at his two father figures with a grimace on his face.

It was early evening, and Shady Belle seems far more inviting than going out into Saint Denis, into a Church of all places too.

“The two of you need to look on the logical side of this!” Dutch crosses his arms and stares at the two of you, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. “That Church has money in it, I know it does. We got a decent tip on it, and this is the best way to get in there and get it without causing a huge scene.”

“Why us though?” You can’t help but let the question slip out of your mouth.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like working with Arthur, quite the opposite actually. Arthur was fantastic to work with, he got the job done right, and he got it done quick, usually, if he could. He was precise, and he was good at what he did.

The only problem between the two of you working is that you were often distracted watching him work. It was obnoxiously attractive to watch him reload his gun in the middle of a gun fight, his back against his wall and the calmest look on his face, sometimes annoyance, but never fear. It was one of the best things about him.

That was about the only thing that ever-caused problems working with him.

That and the fact that the two of you tended to get along a little too well if you’re left alone for too long.

In both of your defenses the two of you have been together for nearly two years now, so it was only natural that it happened.

But, your question, it was more directed at why the two of you for THIS specific job.

If anyone was suited for this kind of job it was Mary-Beth, Karen, maybe even Hosea himself, but Arthur? You?

Arthur wasn’t exactly known for his play acting, or for his subtly.

“Because, the two of you are the best we have, you’ll get the job done, and the two of you are the only ones without jobs set up right now.” Hosea chimes in and quietly he walks towards Arthur, adjusting a part of his costume. “You’ll know what to do.”

“Arthur’s not exactly...” You swallow, trying to think of a nice way to say what you needed to. “He’s not really the stealthy type.” You finish.

“That’s why you’re going with him.” Hosea huffs. “We were told that there’s a stash of money in the basement of the church, as long as you and him can get there and get it that’s all that matters, if he goes to step out of line then you can step in and steer the situation right.”

“Don’t I get a say in all this?”

“No Arthur, you don’t.”

“So why not just send me in by myself?” You furrow your brow and cross your own arms now.

“Because you can’t pass as ‘Father Morgan’.” Dutch snorts.

“Ugh....’Father Morgan’.” Arthur shakes his head and looks towards the road leading out of camp, his horse and yours stand next to each other, grazing at the grass nearby.

“Come on you two! It’ll be fun, go out for drinks afterwards! Our treat!” Dutch moves closer to the younger man and claps his shoulder with a hand, shaking Arthur slightly with a huge smile on his face. “It’s just one job, I promise, no more outfits for you for a while after this one Arthur.”

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but swallows and nods before taking a step towards the horses.

“C’mon Darlin’ let’s get this done with.”

You roll your eyes as well but follow behind offering a bit of a timid wave to the two older outlaws, moving quickly to keep up with Arthur, who even in his new outfit seems to move much faster than you could.

“This is ridiculous,” Arthur looks over his shoulder at you as the two of you reach your horses. “Look at this, look at me, I look stupid.”

You chuckle and smack his shoulder with the back of your hand as you mount up.

“You aren’t the only one Arthur, I look stupid in this get up too.”

“Not as stupid as me, I’m surprised this damn thing hasn’t ripped yet,” He sighs and mounts his own horse, struggling slightly with the tightness around his arms. “They couldn’t find anything bigger than this?”

“Apparently not,” You nod towards the road leading out. “Let’s get going cowboy, the sooner we get this done the sooner we can get out of these things.”

“You’re right, I know.”

He offers another sigh, but then turns to lead the two of you out of camp, setting off at a decent pace.

............

You lean your head against the side of Arthur’s bicep as the two of you lean around a wall, staring at the Church placed in a rather unfortunate location for the two of you.

It’s situated in nearly the center of attention, it’s not in an area that’s exactly easy for the two of you to sneak into it, the only way to go about it was to walk in with confidence that your disguises would work. ‘Stealth’ in the traditional sense wasn’t an option for the two of you two.

“Alright, so...” Arthur adjusts himself, standing a little straighter. “I guess we just walk in?”

“I guess, try to seem Pious, straighten your back, look confident for once Arthur.”

“Hey, I’m confident-”

“Yeah when you’re drunk and when you’re robbing, just....Imagine you’re....”

You stop and huff, turning to face him as he stands against the wall of the building the two of you have hidden yourselves behind.

“Play Dutch.” You finish.

“Play Dutch?”

“You know, be....fuck Arthur just be obnoxious. Everything you do, pretend it was planned out, if you’re confident about it they won’t question a single thing.”

“You think Dutch is obnoxious?” Arthur makes a sound that borders between a snort and a full laugh as he looks at you.

“Of course I do, but that’s not important right now.” You look back towards the church. “Just...Like I said be confident.” You reach up and gently move a lock of his hair behind his ear, it’s not too long, not enough seem out of place, but he definitely should have gotten it trimmed.

“I know, it’s a mess.” He huffs and reaches up, covering your hand with his own. “Didn’t get the chance to stop and cut it with everythin’ goin’ on in camp. It’s gettin’ too long.”

“Just keep it out of your face, you did good with your stubble, looks clean.”

“Good, now, gimme a kiss before we do this.”

You can’t help but smile at him, and offer him a quick kiss, which he makes longer as one of his hands grips your waist tightly when your lips make contact with his.

He has a habit of deepening those kisses that you mean to be quick pecks, little messages of love that turn into something far more...promiscuous.

You finally manage to pry yourself away from him, suppressing a laugh.

“Arthur, come on, we’re gonna get caught, now go, I’ll follow.”

“Alright, alright-” He starts to move away from you, but you grab his robe sleeve quickly.

“Sorry, don’t forget this.”

You thrust a bible into his hand, and then give him a slight push.

“Confidence Arthur!”

“Alright, I got it, I got it, jus’ come on, you gotta come with me anyhow.”

You wipe your hands on the front of your robes, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty.

You stand a little straighter and follow after him as the two of you walk towards the church, trying to control the sudden set of nerves that have overcome your body.

It’s late, the sun had set on the way into Saint Denis, in theory there shouldn’t be anyone in the church, or at least there shouldn’t be too many people in there.

It was the middle of the week, there wasn’t a Sunday Service.

Hopefully things would be easy for the two of you, as long as you could keep the charade up.

Nearing the church you could see two nuns talking to one another outside the front door, arms held in front of themselves, one hand over the other, and you quickly mimic the posture as the two of you continue.

Luckily as you pass the two of them they do nothing but nod and smile at the two of you, which each of you return.

As you pass through the doors you lean a little closer to Arthur, keeping your voice quiet.

“You’re doing great Arthur.”

“I ain’t done anythin’ yet, that’s why.”

You shake your head and swallow back the remark you want to say as you look down at the rosary in your hand.

“Just look around, where’s the stairs to the basement in this place?”

“Don’t know, I ain’t ever been in here, I avoid the city and most religious places like the plague,” he whispers. “I’m surprised I ain’t burned up in flames yet.”

You elbow him as subtly as you can.

“Shut up, if anything the both of us would be in flames by now if that myth was true.”

“Mhm...Awful crime, that premarital sex.”

“Arthur, I think it’s several other crimes that would cause us problems before that one.”

“I guess you’re right, probably all the murder and robbin’.”

“You think?”

He offers a quiet chuckle, one of your favorite sounds, low and breathy, short and sweet. It’s cut off quickly as he looks to the left, seeing a door off to the side of the main room, away from the pews and podium.

“You think that leads down?”

“Don’t know, we’ll have to take a look.” You sigh and look around the room, it seems completely empty, at least from what you can see. “Let’s be quick about it.”

“Right.”

He leads you off towards the door, and as you reach it he opens it up, only to reveal a small closet that’s nearly empty, despite a broom in the corner and a few extra bibles on the top shelf.

“Damn, not it... We should look-”

“Get in the closet!”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Your body is sparking with a sudden rush of anxiety, a sound from your right had sent it through you within a matter of seconds. Voices, is what it sounded like to you, quiet, but there.

“Just get in!” You shove him into the closet and follow after, closing the door in front of you.

The two of you are shrouded in darkness easily, and your body brushes against him, your back to his chest, and you listen as he grunts after hitting his head on the shelf.

“Jesus Y/N, the hell are you doin’?” He’s whispering, but there’s a familiar anger in his voice, well, perhaps its more annoyance.

“I’m sorry I panicked! I heard voices over by the pews...”

“Well we’re dressed like this for a reason-”

“We can’t get out of here now, they’ll wonder why we were crammed in here together.”

“What, you’re sayin’ Priests don’t get freaky now and then?”

“Arthur you know they don’t.”

“It was sarcasm darlin’.”

You take a shaky breath and Arthur’s arm snakes around your waist and he pulls you flush against his body.

“It’s alright Darlin’, we’re fine. What’s goin’ on with you tonight?”

“I don’t know...something about a church, I feel like getting caught here is worse than getting caught in a bank.” You mumble.

“What, all that higher power nonsense?”

“I don’t know, society does not take likely to thieves of the church.”

“Darlin’ society don’t take a likin’ to any thieves I’m afraid.”

You chuckle quietly and lean against him.

“You always know what to say, you know that?”

“Mhm...I try...Now...you think you can take a peek out there, see if they’re gone?”

You take a breath and do as he suggests, opening the door quietly and slowly, peeking your head out just barely.

You listen, hardly moving, hardly breathing, until you realize you no longer hear anyone speaking.

“I think we’re good.”

You step out of the closet and Arthur follows suit, and that’s when you see another door.

It’s straight across from the one that you just exited, and without another word to Arthur you head towards it, and pull it open, a feeling of relief flooding over you as you see stairs heading downwards.

“Good Girl...” Arthur’s voice is nearly a growl in your ear as he leans over your shoulder, he knows how that gets to you, he does, but in this instance you’re fairly certain he’s done it unintentionally.

He’s got a habit of making things attractive when he doesn’t mean to.

“Thanks Father.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Would you prefer Daddy?”

“Not unless you wanna cause more problems for yourself Darlin’.”

You chuckle and begin to head down the stairs, Arthur following you and closing the door quietly behind him.

The basement is dark, and almost damp feeling, you can’t see a damn thing and Arthur doesn’t have his trusty lantern with him.

“Well now what?”

Arthur’s breath comes out warm against your shoulder and an arm wraps around your waist.

“I don’t know, let me think.” He mutters. “I got my matches in my pocket.”

“Your robes have pockets?”

“Course, yours don’t?”

“No, it’s a fucking dress, so is yours I didn’t figure you’d have pockets.”

“Please don’t refer to it as a dress, you’re ruinin’ my masculine reputation.”

You roll your eyes but your hand finds its way to his thighs, patting along the robe in an attempt to find said matches

Of course he has matches on him, he can’t go more than an hour or two without a smoke.

“Mhmm...careful, you’re gonna hit somethin’ else while you’re down there.”

“Why the hell are you so horny right now, I’m not even wearing anything revealing-”

“Maybe I’ve been possessed, need some holy water...”

“Arthur please, can we find the money?”

“I’m sure we can, but I’m sure I’d be a lot more focused after...”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah, serious as a heart attack Sugar. Somethin’ about this place...somethin’ about that....the...shit...the idea of somethin’ like that in a place like this, a church...” He lowers his voice. “In public.....it’s doin’ somethin’ to me.”

You know he means it, you can feel his hardness against your rear, you’ve been able to feel it since the closet, you just refused to say anything.

The basement seemed like the safest place, if you were going to do this.

Not only that but Arthur wasn’t the only one who had this sort of feeling.

The idea of being caught...It was exhilarating, and the idea of being dressed as a nun, yet committing such lewd acts...

You swallow, and grip the rosary in your fist fairly tightly.

“Possessed by the devil, not a demon.” You mutter.

“Maybe you should exorcise me....you are a nun after all.”

You turn, and your eyes are finally adjusting to the darkness, you can see the look on Arthur’s face, the haze of red beginning to cover his cheeks.

“Maybe we need to fuck it out of you.”

“Seems like it’s what he wants...” Arthur murmurs and his hands reach for your waist, and that’s when you catch him.

The rosary slips around his wrists easily, it’s a long beaded string with a cross on the end, longer than it needs to be, but long enough it works perfectly.

You know he can break out of this makeshift bondage easily, but he won’t, at least not on purpose.

He watches, his eyes hungry as you wrap the rosary around his wrists as many times as you can.

“That’s new.” He snorts.

“Maybe that demon will be more willing to leave with a cross on him...”

You have no idea what’s convinced you to slip fully into this sort of romanticized sort of scenario. You know he isn’t possessed, you don’t even believe in that kind of stuff, but....the idea that the only way to expel that ‘demon’ is to fuck it out of him...

It’s doing something to you.

Luckily Arthur can catch on easily, and he follows your lead.

“Well, what the hell are you waitin’ for, you gonna fuck this demon, or are you gonna leave me tied?”

Quietly, you step forwards, and unbutton the lower buttons of his robe, following after that his union suit which even in the dark you can see the outline of his dick pressed against his thigh.

His cock springs out the moment you get it unbuttoned, and without much of a thought you lick the tip of it, listening as Arthur sucks in through his teeth.

From there you move to the base of him, and lick along his shaft, moving towards the tip before taking him into your mouth fully, and that lovely voice of his comes tumbling out of his mouth in a groan.

He rests his tied hands against the back of your head, gently pushing his wrists against it in an attempt to partially guide you, gripping, or at least attempting to grip, at the hood of your robe.

“Fuck....I didn’t....shit I didn’t realize I was that...sensitive...right now.” He breathes out.

You hum against his skin as you bob your head, and again he lets a groan out.

You don’t do this long, and his dick comes out of your mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Nah, that....that ain’t fair-”

“I said we’re gonna fuck it out of you Arthur, me sucking you off isn’t exactly a fucking.”

He’s silent at your remark and watches in the dim light as you shuffle and manage to get your undergarments off.

He watches as you kick them to the side and then motion for him to near you.

He follows orders, the opposite of his usual dominating demeanor, but that’s going to change soon.

You simply turn around and face the wall nearest to you, placing your hands against it, and then arching your back out towards him.

“Oh....shit.”

Arthur swallows, and it’s only a moment before his mind seems to be taken over.

His hands are still tied, but thanks to your earlier endeavor his dick is exposed, and all you have to do is pull up your skirt.

His arms come over your neck, his hands still confined, now settled against your collar bone as he manages to get his cock lined up with your slick.

He pushes into you roughly, enough to make you cry out, and from there he’s unable to move slowly.

His hips snap against yours, deeply, roughly, needily.

“Jesus Christ...” He huffs.

“He ain’t doing...much to help...you right now.” You manage to get out as your cheek rests against the wall, your body moving in tandem with Arthur’s, back and forth, your breasts grazing the wall.

“No...he ain’t....fuck....you sure you ain’t the devil?”

You twitch your hips, moving against Arthur in an attempt to get a deeper angle.

“Maybe...” Your face is hot, your neck too.

You listen to the sounds he makes, each little grunt or groan pushing you forwards.

“This ain’t very....fuck....this ain’t very holy of you.”

“Sometimes....you need different....solutions..”

There’s a noise the sounds from upstairs, and suddenly Arthur’s hands are pressed against your mouth as he continues to rut into you.

“Shhh....quiet Sugar...you don’t want us to be caught do you?” He whispers.

His thrusts get harder, and you bite down on his hand, the area you can get to, you think it’s the side of his thumb, doing your best not to hurt him, but it’s the only thing you can do to stop the moan building in your throat.

You love it when he’s rough with you, and this position, these clothes, getting caught now would only make things hotter.

You know exactly how Arthur would react, and a part of you hopes that someone will, but you know it’s for the best if they don’t.

“Fuck....’demons’....jesus...fuck...” Arthur’s attempt at another suave sentence fails as his hips smack yours again and again.

You lick his hand, leaving hot breath against his skin, and listen to him do his best to suppress a sound that rises to his throat.

“You tryna get us caught? For a Nun...you’re kinda....a slut...” He huffs out.

“Yours Father Morgan...” The words are uttered against the side of his hand in a whisper, but he hears it and he swallows, trying again to keep his voice from raising.

“Please....Harder...”

“Christ Woman, maybe you are possessed.”

“Harder...” You plea again, pushing your hips back against his, roughly hoping he takes the hint, which you’re lucky and he does.

“You know....I...fuck...I could finish you...if I had my hands....”

You offer a grunt in response and watch as he pulls his wrists apart and the beads scatter around the room, pinging against the floor in every direction.

His hands fly to their places almost like it’s instinct.

One against your throat and the other to your clit.

He circles it, matching up his speed with the thrusts against your ass.

“You thought you could keep me like that, but sorry Darlin’...I just couldn’t do it any longer.”

His voice is breathy, and he leans forwards, kissing your neck, listening to the sounds that escape your mouth,.

He only stops when the sound of the basement door comes.

He’s quick to move, his cock still buried inside you as he pulls you around the side of a wall.

No one would see you there, not unless they walked around.

He places a palm against your mouth and he leans his back against the wall, only to thrust upwards into you, slowly, making sure his body and yours wouldn’t make a sound.

“Someone down here? The church is closed for the night I’m afraid!”

Arthur moves slowly, his hips still gently rocking against yours, it’s nearly torture, and you want to beg him to move faster, but to quell it you bite his palm, just as you’d done earlier.

“Hello? Anyone?”

His dick pulls out gently, and he has to do his best to keep a groan in his throat.

“Must be hearing things.”

The two of you listen as the person heads back up the stairs and the door closes.

You let out a deep breath and as soon as you do Arthur’s pace picks up.

He’s fast, thrusting into you with a speed that seems like he’ll die without feeling you clench against him.

His hand comes back to your neck and the other back to your clit.

He’s persistent, and after a moment you know why.

His hips begin to get erratic, the rhythm and speed are off, and his breathing against your neck gets hotter, they turn from deep breaths into panting.

“Sugar....you nearly there? Princess...I’m....soon.”

You can’t do anything but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder as he keeps you moving.

The hand around your throat moves to cup your breast, squeezing it through the cloth.

“Love the way these bounce...” He mutters. “Even clothed it’s a sight...”

“Arthur,” You close your eyes, your arm moving to come around his neck, the other slapped against the wall.

“Mhm....you’re almost there, I can hear it in your....fuck...in your voice.”

It’s a few more of these hard fast thrusts and then suddenly there’s a warmth that fills you and you yourself come apart as Arthur’s fingers continue to circle your clit.

Arthur groans in your ear and puts his forehead against your shoulder, breathing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

You’re silent for a moment.

“You broke my rosary.”

“Oh, like you were ever gonna use it after this.”

“Maybe on you, back, back I say, may the power of Christ compel you-”

“Oh, you need more than Christ to compel me Darlin’.”

You chuckle and the two of you manage to get untangled, not before Arthur whispers in your ear about the mess he’s made.

“Gonna have me all over you, hidin’ under that outfit of yours....you ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary are you...”

“Shut up Arthur, the ‘demon’ is supposed to be gone, let’s find that damn money and get out of here, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me when we get back to camp.”

“Good, not like you were gonna stop me anyhow.”

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble #arthur morgan smut

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spookykoolkat · 6 months

Text

kinktober | lucifer, my love - e.m.

kinktober day twelve - somnophilia

pairing: eddie munson x plus size!reader

wc: 3.8k ish idk

summary: your boyfriend was rising to fame quickly with you still behind the scenes, by choice, and you were still unsure about him. was he truly the devil your family claimed him to be? should you cast him out and cleanse yourself from his abominable lifestyle? or will you give yourself to him, worship the devil you were taught to hate?

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are not welcomed. this kind of got a little away from me heheh sorry! talks of religious trauma, talks of the devil, unprotected sex (p in v), somnophilia, knife play, cutting clothes off, cutting, dirty talk, extreme *to me lol*

not proofread. also very very far behind pls forgive me omg.

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated i love everyone's feedback!!'

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YOU DIDN'T HEAR YOUR BOYFRIEND get home from rehearsals, too late at night for you to be awake to greet him. eddie had been to rehearsals every day for five months, forcing the two of you to rent an apartment in new york, near the studio he went to every day. you didn't know how he did it, seeming superhuman in some aspects.

he was getting ready for his upcoming tour, one that wasn’t going to be too long since he was touring in the UK. even though it was five more months away, you noticed how tired eddie would be. whether it was sound check, rehearsing, eddie having to oversee most things managers would since he was in between.

you even offered to take that position over, but you weren’t fit for the publicity. you liked being in the shadows, being the girl eddie talked about in interviews but never specified. he let everyone know he was taken, for good, but never said who you were. unfortunately, eddie had insane fans, even occasional groupies you’d try to ignore when you face timed him on the tour bus.

this time, you were going on tour with him. this was your entrance to the world, and you really didn’t know if you were ready for it. you told eddie you liked being the mystery girl, the one no one fully corrupted with their image of what eddie’s girlfriend would look like. you were safe. and he kept you safe.

many people told you to forget about eddie in the beginning don't act on the man who saw you in a bar and couldn't leave you alone after that. especially when he's got the devil's star on stage with him, a ram's head glittering in silver hints around his neck, the subliminals in his music — your friends and family told you he was lucifer, the devil in disguise, temptation at its finest.

church girl from rural texas, into a city girl that's surrounded by the devil's music. music that tempted, possessed, brought on this earth by the devil himself to spite. your mother forced you to believe, everything that wasn't the way she raised you, was evil. sinisterly waiting to tempt you, to steer you from the path of god almighty, to keep you as a servant to satan himself.

god was testing you, apparently. find the will, find the way.

to the world, had they known you fell in love with a man who covered himself in blood before sets, other than your closest, you'd be tainted by the devil. you worried it'd be bad for his image, but he only said it'd boost it. innocent church girl falling into the well he carved out for you.

but he usually had his ways of comforting you. in every situation, telling you that no one could compare, not even coming close to you. that the only god he worshiped was you, anything coming close to having faith in something. he was devoted to you, and he knew your family. he knew they'd never agree, but he told you it was okay. he'd be your family.

that’s why you never questioned waking up with him inside of you, you never complained in fact you encouraged him. you wanted him to wake you up like that, just so you could give him what he wanted to ease the stress he had lingering. to be as close to him as possible, it’s only something both of you craved.

he made sure to mark you up in every way he could, and you allowed him to do so. you wanted to see how much he was yours, how much he wanted to be yours and to belong to you - not some other woman who was probably a whole hundred pounds lighter than you. maybe even more.

you didn’t feel the bed dip either, eddie laying beside your practically naked body as the moonlight shone in through the large windows. he couldn’t help himself, not when he has your full consent for him to do as you asked when you were asleep, and ran his warm hand over the curve of your body.

you were admittedly a heavy sleeper. clapping, slapping, picking your arm up and letting it fall, nothing woke you and eddie even found it a little scary at some points. but, somehow eddie still found himself being gentle.

maybe you are the devil. lucifer, satan. what if you called to him just enough times? was this because of him?

you were only in your little panties that bit into the fat of your hips, ones you said you were throwing out since you had a hole ripping at the seam and they got a littleee snug on your hips and sex. it only made eddie drool more, they were cutting into the fat of your ass, your hips and creating an indention that eddie teased around.

instead of sliding them down your legs like a normal person, eddie figured it’d take too much work to work them down your legs. making excuses in his head, he pulled out the pocket knife he always carried in his back pocket.

these are already tearing, what’s the harm?

you can always buy her new ones, she always liked the comfortable ones.

she wouldn’t mind? i mean they do look a little uncomfortable.

devil's son.

just to take the blade, scraping it along your thighs and to your ass cheek and slipping under the fabric to cut through. all he had to do now was shift, rolling you on your back softly as you moaned a little in your sleep. he took the blade again as he sat on his legs between yours, scraping it along your thigh and pulling through the cloth.

all you had now was your sports bra that was a little too tight just to secure your breasts, and a little voice in his head began to make excuses again as he took the blade and fixed it in your cleavage, cutting through the fabric to expose your nipples.

eddie loved your breasts. you always talked about a breast lift or a breast reduction, eddie told you he’d have your bras custom made if you really wanted it. eddie told you to let him hold them for a bit to give your back a break, to let him take care of you for a bit.

anything to keep your breasts just as they were.

you thought they were saggy, he thought they were full and perfect to shove his face into, to love. it was a bonus that they were all his.

it was making eddie throb in his pants, against the confines of his underwear just begging to make its way between the lips of your cunt. he figured he’d just slide them down to the muscles of his thighs, and let his cock spring free above you.

he is evil, dark shadows that swallow you whole, he is that.

the thing is, you were already soaked from making yourself cum not even an hour ago. you were up thinking about eddie again, wishing he could touch you the way you did, thinking about every time he pressed into you to make you cum.

all eddie had to do was raise your legs, heavy with unconsciousness and spread your glistening cunt. you loved this. he kept reminding himself, remembering the way you begged for him to take you as he pleased, whenever he pleased unless you said so.

eddie always respected you, and as he stroked his cock and guided it to nudge between the slick lips you broadcasted to him, slipping against your clit and making your eyebrows twitch — he left kisses on your skin, planting them on the chubbiness of your cheeks, down to your neck and over your shoulders as he felt his cock lather in your juices.

you’re a lucky fucking man. remember that, be grateful for this girl. you’ll never find another like her, and you know that. don’t fuck this up.

he was trying to find security in you, make you his just as he was yours.

and the feeling you gave him, the one that made his limbs go numb as he made himself welcome in the warmth of your cunt, no one else would be able to give that to him.

to the world he was nothing but metal, death, darkness, and impudent. but with you, he was far deviated from corroded coffin. he was yours, you were his reason for being, for loving, and he was unapologetically soft when you wanted it.

and what you wanted, what you asked for — you got, because you deserve nothing less.

corrupt her with your love for all things evil, curse her with your desire to destroy, to pleasure, to crave.

thought you were a heavy sleeper, eddie moved his hips slow, softly as he stretched his hole for his liking. he didn’t feel like he needed to get you ready again since you had your cum still on your fingers, but he was rethinking now before he bottomed out completely.

you believed you were dreaming, a wet dream you came up with in your subconscious that you were hoping was true. it was blurry, but you could feel it. your body was responding to something, and it moved and squirmed as you tried to get more and more.

until you started to hear yourself whine and moan, no longer feeling like you were asleep, not with heavy pants and winces above you hitting your face. not with feeling cold air hit your freckled areolas, your legs bent to fit another person between them.

eddie’s thrusts got snappier, his palms resting against the bed on either side of your head, rutting into you like an eager man. you were clenching unknowingly, and as your eyes began to flutter open and mouth began to hang open a little — eddie’s cock throbbed inside of you.

“e-eddie,” you broke, your voice husky with sleep and confusion.

“hi baby, i’m – fuck – home, i’m home,” he cracked, and your legs almost opened wider, almost instinctively wrapping around his bare waist.

your eyes looked between his dark ones and to where you two connected, just to see your bra was cut in the middle and your panties are gone. something twinged inside of you, suddenly everything was achy, like his cock at his slow pace just wasn’t enough.

is he the devil?

“your knife,” you moaned out as your arms wrapped around his, feeling the heat under your fingertips and grasping at every part of his pale body to feel him with your own hands.

“i’m sorry about your bra, baby, and your panties. couldn’t fucking help myself,” he growled, still looking you in your eyes, occasionally glancing down at the waterlike movement of your breasts.

“use it, wanna feel it, your knife,” you said in a haze, not sure if the words you said were the ones you met.

did you welcome evil to consume you the way he did as he lay above you?

you were half asleep, drunk off of eddie and how delicious the stretch he imposed on you was, and somehow throwing the word knife in the mix felt right.

eddie sat up on his haunches, still buried in you and you bring your legs to your shoulders, bent at the knee so your feet were grazing against his shoulders. he glanced around the bed and found the black steel blade, grabbing it and guiding the pointy tip of it up your hip and against your thigh.

“what do you want, baby? i’m sure you don’t want me to hurt you with this, do you?” he asked innocently, except he felt the way your cunt clenched and nearly gushed around his girth. not only did he look between your fluttering hole to your eyes, but he brought the blade right down to the curve of your thick mound.

you invited it, you felt enveloped by the dark, wanted by the devil, just as you want him.

he was scraping the flat part of the blade against the sparse curls of your sex, watching as your eyes shut and your hips squirmed. your cunt sucked him in like a vice, something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life as your eyes flutter between consciousness.

the blade traveled to your inner thigh, up the skin and back to your fupa, over the roundness of your belly and to the cups of your breasts. the knife was sharp, eddie could attest to that, but the answer you gave him silently when he asked you what you wanted him to do with the knife was tempting.

“want me to mark you, baby? make you mine?” he asked and sleepily, you nodded.

your cunt was producing obscenely wet noises, hearing the air that seeped inside as he thrusted manically. the blade went over your peaked nipples, to the underside of your breast and he decided to trail the blade down your tummy with a little bit of pressure.

it didn’t take much to see the small break of skin he caused, forming a pink line almost down to your navel. the sting was sharp, as if getting a tattoo, but surface level enough for the blood to dry almost instantly as it formed droplets at the cut.

“eddie,” you slurred, the air burning its way into the thin line of hurt, making you his.

“want me to stop, sweetheart? or do you want me to keep making it hurt?” he asked sweetly, almost sinisterly as the blade scraped over your skin.

if he was the devil, why does it feel so satisfying?

it was painful, the searing burn of the cut down your tummy, but it was almost electrifying as you felt eddie’s cock pump inside of you.

you’d be terrified if another man took a knife to your body, but eddie — you’d let him do whatever he wanted.

as your eyes opened again, you grabbed the hand that held the pitch black knife and used your own fingers to position his hand to fit the blade of the knife against your throat.

“m..m..make me cum,” you hummed, stuttering with submission, letting eddie bring his face closer to yours as his hips punched into yours, chasing something of his own.

seeing you like this, almost limp in his hold as your eyes fell heavy enough to fail at keeping them open, cockdrunk and trying to keep him all to yourself, it was easy to get to his point of release.

so with the blade to your neck, his own memory of branding your skin with a cut down your stomach stinging with his love, he lifts himself again to press two calloused fingers onto your nub. eddie uses the slick gathered in a ring around his cock, gushing all around him enough to spread it over your clit in firm circles.

he watched as the blade pressed into your neck, the way your hips lazily bucked up into his palm as his thrusts got erratic and disorganized — it was sending his cock to throb and jerk inside of you as you felt heat creep down your body and your muscles tense with pleasure.

it was lust, greed, gluttony — you should feel disgusting. god would never take you as is, god would diminish you to nothing for lying with the devil.

“cum on my cock, sweetheart, let me see – oh fuck – let me see all of it,” he felt your hole squeeze him in response, and made him take the knife from your throat and threw it somewhere on the bed as you started to babble incoherency.

“g-g-gonna, gonna cum, gonna cum, eddieeee,” it was slurred, soaked in sleep and haze as you tried to come back into full consciousness but your eyes were still heavy, still laced with pleasure, too much to find the strength to keep them open for him.

but eddie’s eyes were on you as you came around him, milking his cock like your life depended on it, taking all of him in your tiny hole with your legs shaking around him until he gave three last sloppy thrusts inside of you and burst with flames, leaking all of his release inside of your walls.

the guilt, the religious trauma, it should haunt you, haunt you as the devil would stalk the vulnerable.

his favorite place to be, was inside of you. any time he could, he’d bury himself inside of you until you were crying tears to be fucked. and watching you squeal and squirm for him as you tried to push him off from the pleasure being too much, it made his release snap. the coil broke, and it made his cock twitch inside of you, his cum invading your hole and coating you entirely.

so after his release burned with warmth inside of you, so comfortable, so homey, he collapsed on your thick body and snuggled his cheek against the stickiness of your breasts from the sweat and took his hand to grope one and stay there.

“eddie,” you mumbled, voice still raspy with sleep and your orgasm.

but nothing could haunt you more than the love you have for your lucifer, nothing could be compared to selling your soul to him, for the love you have for your lucifer.

eddie just looked up through his lashes, winced and apologized as he slid out of you to leave you cold and empty. you felt cold all of the sudden, and eddie got up to get a wet rag and cleaned between your legs with no resistance from you, and decided to just lay down next to you as he pulled the sheets over your two bodies.

eddie wrapped his arm around you as you stilled on your back, your breathing going back to a normal rhythm and your eyes still fluttering open and closed.

“how was practice?” you mumbled, not capable of correcting yourself. you were so dazed, like you were getting high for the first time again, still very out of your mind.

“mmm, baby, terrible. terrible practice, but it’s alright. i’m here with you. let’s go back to bed baby, yeah?” eddie dismissed.

he felt it was too much to say that everybody but him was an idiot. because you’d probably prove him wrong.

“you cut my clothes off,” you mumbled.

you didn't mind the work of the devil. he was yours, and only yours after all.

“you can cut mine off too, if you want,” he grinned against your bare shoulder and rubbed your tummy.

“i’ll remember that.” you slurred, deciding to cuddle back into your boyfriend, grateful you didn’t spend another night alone.

“i really hope you do.” he whispered and kissed your shoulder, closing his eyes as he felt you shift more into him, getting in your usual position.

this was all he needed. he didn’t need the fame, the money, the music. he just needed you, and he was planning on trapping you with a ring or a baby soon. very soon. and he knows you’d love it, because you’d be his completely. and that’s all you needed in a world where your boyfriend was the one everyone wanted or hated.

no one understood him, you said. he was too complex for the world to fully grasp other than throwing the theory that he's given himself to be used as a vessel for the devil's work, they said. the scary thing was that you believed the rumors, and you still fell into his trap.

when eddie was the one held responsible for his demonic persuasion, being the cause of revamping the satanic panic, his 'rituals' being pushed by his songs, and you were the one that was willing to love the devil unapologetically — you could not fear your lucifer.

for your lucifer would fear you.

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl @dirtydianaahah

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possibilistfanfiction · 4 months

Note

I love Beatrice feels about Avas gender identity (or lack of). And how, for Beatrice, her womanhood is still an important part of her, even if she expresses that part differently than other women. And how Bea is just down for the ride when Ava experiments with their gender expression, just endless support and love and just letting Ava try out whatever they want. Like the scene with the binder, Ava wasnt visibly uncomfortable or weirded out, she just said that it wasnt something for her, and Bea never discouraged her of trying it out by telling her that she wouldnt like it, or other masculine things that fit better, like the suit. So yeah, thanks for having someone like Ava who doenst give a fuck about how she "should" dress and act as told by society and then Beatrice, for whom womanhood is still an important part of, but she puts her personal own spin on it, so she still feels like herself and happy. So, yeah you said you already have two butch!Bea prompts, so I just wanted to request a Avatrice fic with some happy gender expressions/feels it doesnt have to be butch!Bea AU, if you want. But yeah, I love how you write Beas butch style but still in touch with her womanhood. (And of course her kicking ass in Aikaido class ;) )

‘wow,’ you say, a little breathless. ava grins, spins around in their tuxedo slacks and button down with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, an old binder of yours that’s loose on them but still offers some compression underneath, paired with patent leather loafers and a tie loose around their neck. they’ve slicked their hair back neatly and are grinning, arms outstretched. ‘you look amazing.’

‘yeah?’

‘of course,’ you say, as if there was any other possibility. ava wraps her arm around your waist and looks in the mirror at the both of you together: it’s a little different, because you’re used to ava in the dresses and crop tops and flowy pants he loves, an old favorite pair of overalls — but it’s, like, really, really hot. you’ve learned through your friends and therapy and ava’s own deep exuberance around queerness that you really are in love in so many of its forms, the textures it takes and allows; while you feel much, much better and safer and more comfortable and at ease in yourself when you’re in loose, easy pants, your chest flat, your hair short, you have never begrudged ava their expansion. they’ve seen so, so much, lived through more pain than anyone should ever have to, so everything about them, even at their most annoying, is beautiful to you.

‘if i wore a packer into a cathedral, do you think i would be struck down or something?’

it takes a second too long for your brain to get unstuck from the heat that races down your spine; ava smirks. ‘are you —‘ unfortunately your voice comes out a little strangled and you have to regroup — ‘are you wearing one?’

‘nah,’ ava says. ‘thought about it, but these pants are kinda tight and if i have to sit through some dumbass pomp and circumstance at the vatican i’m at least going to be comfortable.’

you hum, the best you can do.

‘maybe i’ll wear it tomorrow with that new skirt i got in madrid though,’ she says, far too casual for the victorious expression on her face.

‘well, you do know god best.’

‘that’s so true,’ ava says, preening again and then turning toward you. ‘gender expression, totally cool with god, if you can believe that.’

‘i suppose i can.’ ava’s smirk softens into an easy smile, one you revel in every time it’s for you, the way sunflowers turn toward the sun.

‘plus, this little vest situation you have going on is, like, so hot. god can’t begrudge me your arms, not after all i’ve done.’

you huff at their obvious delight in flustering you, but it’s summer and very hot and, really, the light sweater vest you’d picked out to go with your very church-appropriate slacks is also quite tame.

‘i love you,’ they say, softening again, and kiss your cheek. ‘now, let’s go scandalize some conservatives, shall we?’

you laugh, unable to resist ava’s warmth, again and again. ‘we shall.’

#wn fic #avatrice fic #prompts #wn #avatrice #smth smth ava modeling her look off of nate from gossip girl but w a side of slutty blair i can't explain further but u get it #another silly one esp for those of u in my inbox BEGGING for masc ava lol this is p much all i got #butch bea 🥺🫡

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winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Unholy || Karl Jacobs

Pairing: Karl Jacobs x fem! Reader

Summary: To be a priest meant your loyalty shall rest with the lord and Karl would be a lying if he said he wouldn't want to lie with you instead.

Words: 6.4k

Tags: Overstimulation, priest! Karl, switch!Karl (he whines and comes first does that count?), porn without plot, rough sex, floor sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, priest kink, religious kink (i guess), cursing, dirty talk, name calling.

This is a fucking mess because I forced this one during my biggest writer's block but HEY ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED AFTER MONTHS. I'll go fix the mess later on, I am ready to pass out.

As always, constructive criticism is welcomed. I would like to hear what I should change and what not :DD

Archive

---------

The nights where the wind howled against the corners of the church are always the most insufferable nights, Karl observed.

It’s always when drunken men or sobbing women approach the building with their sins sitting at the edge of their tongue, ready to spew their darkest secrets to the man sitting behind the thin plywood wall.

It's amazing how confident they are in confessing their sins just because their faces are obstructed from his vision.

It was always their disloyalty, either a far-away admiration situation or a recurring event of waking up in another’s arms and another room. It’s something Karl could never fathom how it happens.

They marry one another in front of the lord with pledges of love and protection then seek a different tongue in a few years.

Not that he could say much in the matter as he has never experienced such a thing, otherwise he’d be excommunicated.

But one thing’s for sure, his heart, although holds no one else but the lord in the heavens, still beats and skips in his chest every once and a while, either for his favourite food on the table or at the sight of you.

Karl barely knows anything about you, other than your frequent visits to the church to help the nuns with the garden and looking over the children at the orphanage and the fact that you just moved into the small town of Kinoko.

It was amazing how despite knowing so little about you, his heart still stuttered in its cage whenever you greeted him with a wide smile, waving so sweetly, he thought you could make a miss universe cry with how graceful and attention grabbing you are without effort

It’s a simple connection between a priest and a citizen yet he swears whenever you sway your hips whenever you pass by him or move away your hair to show him your neck, you were offering yourself to him.

Your vanilla scent tantalises him, taunting his bound hands to break free and swallow you whole. He had never thought how a sweet scent could elicit such an emotion until then.

Karl can’t even remember the last night he had where he had to fight of his desires apparent by the uncomfortable tent in his pants, nor can he recall the moments where his head steers clear of its imaginative state that’s mostly composed of him snapping and bending you on the nearest elevated surface to see your face crumple into an expression of pure pleasure.

As much as he imagined taking you gently in your bed like the gentleman he appeared to be, there’s an insatiable beast in the prowl who'd love nothing but eat you through and through leaving nothing, not even a piece of your bone, until your scent and taste has ingrained itself to his head and tongue in his waking and resting state.

It was a morbid thought a person like him shouldn’t have but his feelings are far tamer than what his mind lets on, still they remind him of the sinner he once was.

A man who lust over someone, whose hands became more tainted and occupied with every day passing with her growing closer to him.

He's no different from the others he swore to never turn into, the only difference was the cassock he wears, a sign of his affiliation with a religion while the others wore casual clothes.

Would you run if you ever saw the foul, revolting scenes his mind conjured for him at the deepest of nights when sleep felt like a tedious task and your smile taunting his very being?

Today was unfortunately one of those nights he dreaded yet welcomed so warmly like a friend, the stings of the chilly night on his cheeks is the only thing grounding him. The silence in the chapel is torturous, enough to make him wish for the usual boring confessions from the town folks.

Until the double doors creaked open and came calmed footsteps approaching the booth, it sounded nervous and jittery, making him wonder if this person's confession is more than adultery or lying.

Karl couldn't help but be hopeful that it'll be a different topic tonight.

He still wouldn't mind Susan telling him of her recent adventures with her neighbour's husband or John sluggishly recalling his latest fuck after work when his wife is worried sick for him at home.

It's not like he could even interfere with their lives. The last thing Karl wanted is being incorporated into a drama.

Upon hearing the person take a seat, he starts. "Good evening, what brought you to this seat, my child?"

There was a beat of hesitance that hung between them, heavy and tense, like the weight of this person’s sin on their shoulder. Maybe this night will truly be different.

"Father, I have sinned."

Karl's heart fluttered in his chest, cheeks heating upon realising who the person sat on the other side. What kind of atrocity have you done? Maybe this secret of yours might repel him, straighten him up, wake him up from his daze.

He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. "How so? Tell me so I can pray your sins away."

There was a long pause that followed, Karl thought you fluttered away in your nervousness but soon, you spoke once more.

"I lust for someone and I don't know how to act upon it..."

Never have his heart fall to his feet faster than when he heard your whisper, an angry blob rearing its ugly head at the back of his mind, his stomach churning uncomfortably as his mind raced with thoughts of inquiring you more about this intense affection you feel for someone.

Just the thought of this someone he doesn’t know lingering in your mind, making your heart race… His blood boiled vehemently in his core, lighting up a faint pain in his chest as they circulated around his body.

The stretched stagnant silence between them was broken by your sigh as you continued your tale, Karl couldn’t be more thankful that you did, fearing the words that might escape his mouth will scare you off for good.

“I’ve only been in Kinoko for two months now but never have I ever fallen for someone as fast as I did for him.”

Your voice trembled, not only in nervousness but also a hint of shyness, the same tone when people are sheepish and blushing when they introduce their crush to a friend. His jaw clenched, his fists turning white and his nails digging straight into his skin, itching to drive itself to the nearest solid item near him but he knew he had to keep his composure.

He can’t be acting like a child who didn’t get the toy he asked his parents for.

“So not only do you lust for him but also love him?”

“I-I do, father.”

He was prepared to hear your admission but to hear it straight from you, his heart crumbles to his feet, eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Fate is truly cruel to those who're believed to be showered with blessings. Karl tilts up his head, he still has a confession to hear.

Is there really no chance he could ever be yours?

Yes, a whisper at the back of his head said. It was already hopeless to think he had a chance in the first place.

He knew well enough how tight the rosary had bounded his hands, of course he never stood a chance. You know his boundaries more than he does at this point, his logic blurring whenever he sees you pass by, a passing breeze with your scent is enough to render him heedless.

At his heavy sigh, you called, anxious. “Father?”

“What a naughty girl you are. Lusting for someone who’s not your husband... What would the lord think of you now?”

He has no idea what compelled him to say such a thing with a seductive voice. He should give up already the logical part of him knew that but the other part of him urged him to continue, to hold onto the thinnest thread of hope that maybe this man you’re raving about is him.

It was delusional but can you really blame a man in love?

“H-he already thinks of me sinful for wishing to him every night… for someone to bend me over and fuck me rough like I’m nothing but a toy.”

A delicious shiver slithered down his spine at your words, urging blood to up to heat his cheeks and down between his thighs. He groaned softly, your soft voice matched with vulgar words sending pleasurable jolts down to his length.

You sounded so sultry, a succubus disguised as an angel descending to break him. It was dangerous to listen to you but he couldn’t help himself. Your voice holds the promise of a heated night lulling him closer to your arms.

“Tell me, do you ever touch yourself for him? Wishing it was his fingers and dick inside you?”

You responded with a soft groan, it was miniscule yet he almost bolted from his seat to cross the very boundary he was adamant to keep.

“Yes father. Every night I dream of him making me cum over and over again, not stopping even when I tap out.”

“What a mouth you have there. How bold of you to ask God himself for a good fuck and talk dirty to a priest."

Stop, the logical part of him whispered, he was crossing the boundaries placed between the light and the dark. But his heart that thudded harder in his chest and his cock that stirred in his trousers fogged his mind.

He’s too far gone to even try and leave.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

There was a challenging tone in your voice, condemning him to his fall from heaven and into the hell of your own making.

The string of constraint snaps and he’s on his feet. Karl walks out of the booth and into the other side, throwing the curtain open to see you look up at him with wide eyes, surprised and eager but he could see the glint of mischief in them.

There’s a lot of things that raged in his mind, actions he could do with you at his mercy. But instead, he sighed, mind clearing a bit as he straightened up.

“Step out of the booth and kneel in front of the cross to pray, I will baptise you once you show remorse to the lord."

He watched intently as you stood up with shaky legs, approaching the wooden podium noiselessly, the silence growing intensity with every footsteps taken.

It was suffocating and exhilarating at the same time.

This is crazy, this is crazy. His thoughts bounced around his mind but he could care less, he started this and he will see through it all.

The stained glass windows casting a shadow over the figurine nailed on the cross, sculpted face tilted down, its expression ever firm yet it looked like iy was frowning at him for a split second.

It was spine chilling how it felt like its eyes were made to glower at him with disgust, judging his very being at where he stood. Karl's guts twisted at the thought, fear rising up to his throat only to dispese the moment you kneeled onto the red carpet, waiting for the priest to arrive and deliver his blessing, waiting for no one but him.

Your prayer left your lips in hushed whispers with both hands cupping each other close to your mouth. With the moon beaming down onto you, highlighting your figure underneath the oversized button up you wore. It was unfair how his desire showed no intention of stopping while you remained calm kneeling in front of the god’s hanging figurine.

The church gate closed and the lock echoed with a loud metallic clang and you shivered noticeably. Karl had to lock the main gate, nobody could enter the premises without his permission and no one could interrupt his moment with you.

Heaven knows he'd run away if anyone were to ruin the already fragile mood.

"Father?"

"Can't have anyone entering such a holy space during a cleansing, you wouldn't want anyone to see how much of a bad girl you are, do you?"

Karl has never been as nervous as he is now. Not even when he moved out of his parents' house nor when he rose to stand in front of the masses for the first time as a priest.

Yet there he was… A pin-drop interruption away from cowering in a corner. Both sides of himself are stuck in an on-going tug of war between his human desires and his god-fearing heart screaming at him.

Even every step he takes towards the front where you kneel and shiver with his approaching footsteps felt like he was striding towards his death.

His eyes wandered back to the divine sculpture pinned between mismatched panes of colored glasses. Karl's chest tightened before he averted his gaze in favor of paying attention to you.

God wanted his children to live happily and this is one of the things that'll give Karl joy, surely the divine and benevolent God could grant him this one sin.

But seeing the delectable tremble that shook your body after his words, his human desires pushed further front. He wanted to see your reaction, ached for a glimpse of how your cheeks flushed dark in his presence when he crouched in front of you, hand reaching up to pinch your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

There was something addicting with the way you easily surrendered control to him with so much trust made pride swell in his chest, something about the sight of you obediently kneeling with hands splayed on your thighs and staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with desire. A hunger he has grown unnaturally familiar with, befriended it even.

He couldn’t help but wonder if those eyes will retain its warmth and crave for his touch if you ever caught a glimpse of his mind whenever he thought about you.

"Before we start, tell me now if you want to back out, princess."

The rosary hanging from his neck scorched his skin, their round beads digging into his skin like an apparent annoyance. The accessory weighed heavier than any other day when he took it off and held it in his hand, a reminder of his duty as a priest who has made the pledge of Chastity, the same promise he’s about to break for you.

But if a ‘no’ ever escapes your lips, no matter how loud or hushed it is, he’ll be willing to stop in his tracks and move districts.

He couldn’t bear the thoughts of you looking at him with disgusted eyes.

“Darling?”

You let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, Father Jacobs.”

He grinned. “Good girl, now start praying.”

Karl watched as your eyes grew comically wide in shock, cheeks burning in humiliation as you fell to your chest, no doubt ashamed of assuming differently of his words. He held back the urge to laugh, no matter the setting, you never fail to be adorable.

But those worries dissipated once his large hand took yours with urgency and pressed the rosary into your hold.

Of all the hands he’s seen having the accessory hang from during the Sunday masses, he could confidently say that yours is the greatest of all. He wondered how your wrists looked when tied tightly with it.

“You only stop if I tell you to, alright? If you disobey, there will be consequences.”

With a nod, you started muttering your prayers and he went ahead to claim the lone bottle on the counter a few strides away.

"I'll start the baptising now."

But instead of going through the whole ordeal of sprinkling bits of the liquid on you like a proper priest would, he uncapped the bottle and poured its contents on you.

The water is truly holy, he thought as he stared at the sight of you in wet clothing.

You only gasped as the liquid drenched your shirt, sticking into your skin and revealing the bold red lacy bra you wore. The colour complimenting your skin so perfectly it hurts, it pains him that he's not seeing it properly.

"My apologies, the bottle broke. That shirt must be uncomfortable, we can proceed without it."

He went around you with hands cupping your shoulders as he kneeled, giving it a comforting squeeze before he reached around to undo two buttons. Your breath hitched when the collar loosened, he knew deep within that it was from the excitement and arousal yet he couldn’t help but be worried.

Karl would rather die and never see you again than be hated by you after using his power as a priest to force you into agreeing to this.

"Hey, are you sure you want this?"

When you nodded, he poured all the contents of the bottle onto your head, unsatisfied by your response. The fabric is practically translucent against your skin, what a sight you are to behold.

You gasped as the chilly temperature encouraged goosebumps on your skin but he could care less, he needed to hear you say it.

"Words princess. I need to hear them."

"Yes, Father Jacobs."

"Good girl." His words elicited a shiver from you as his hands made quick work of your shirt, shedding it off and tossing it somewhere in front.

The new uncharted skin revealed to him made his breath hitch, feverish and unmarked beneath his fingers, the goosebumps he felt under his touch sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, warmth exploding in his chest at your sigh. Such a perfect little darling for him.

Karl listened to your breathing as he lightly nibbled on your skin, careful not to leave a long lasting mark before drifting down to a more inconspicuous area to suck on.

As much as he wanted Kinoko to know you've been fucked thoroughly tonight, he wasn't sure you'd like the idea like he does.

“Wearing such a promiscuous bra at a church, did you ever plan on repenting for your sins? Or were you hoping that someone would take you home and fuck you like the slut you are?”

“No sir, it's only for your eyes, Father Jacobs.”

He chuckled, pleased. “If it's a present for me, then shouldn’t I unwrap it?”

His pecks turned into open mouthed kisses and soon, he was laving the skin hiding your rapid heartbeat with his tongue. Every sigh you emit sends pleasurable jolts downward and further hardening his length, your every soft moan of his name frying his nerve endings alight, the feelings are intoxicating.

Your sweet, honeyed scent is addicting as it surrounds him and like the addict he is, he drowned in them, letting your perfume momentarily overpower his lust.

even then, he noticed the silence—save for your moans— in the room and swatted your thigh.

"I'm not hearing your prayers missy, don't think I've forgotten that."

If you continued, he didn't even realise. His focus zoned on the feeling of lace under his touch as he touched the hem before unclasping your bra and disposing them somewhere behind him, hands surged to your mounds, grabbing a handful and squeezing it gently. Hard nubs poking his palm, screaming for his attention, urging him to pinch them.

You’re so soft and pliant underneath his touch, surrendering and trusting him with your vulnerability and boy, does it feel good.

He felt like a high schooler who just saw boobs for the first time in his life, a teenager about to cream his pants at the sight of a topless woman. It wouldn’t surprise him if he explodes before even entering you.

"So pretty for me."

As his hands massaged both mounds gingerly in his hold and you sighed, nails digging into your skin as he pulled them before pushing back up to relieve the stings his fingers left.

His fingers soon found your nipples and pinched them between two digits, sending ripples of pleasure in your system as he tugged on them before rolling the hard nubs in different directions.

But you needed more and he knows that from the way you crossed your thighs to close around nothing, attempting to relieve the burn in your inner core, the intense ache between them. Karl watched as your cheeks crudely flushed before he parted you open with his legs wedging in between them.

His long hands trailed down your legs teasingly, dropping to your inner thighs before they caress you up to your knees.

"Father Jacobs, please."

His hands paused at your thighs. "What is it?"

"Touch me please..."

"But I am touching you." His hands dug into your flesh before grabbing onto them with an iron grip, the sting only igniting your core further.

"You know what I mean.."

"I don't, princess. Tell me what do you want?"

Arousal burned your cheeks a deeper red as you desperately grabbed his hand on your inner thigh and dragged them to your itching heat, body trembling when he cupped over your sex.

Karl felt light as you pushed his fingers down on your prominent nub, moaning as you manoeuvre them to circle it, he could feel the fabric grow wetter with every touch and he almost passed out.

The heat radiating off of your clothed folds is enough to drive him crazy, he couldn’t even imagine how he’d react once he breaches your underwear and touches your arousal, revelling in them.

He could feel the burning phantom stare above him, shame curling around his heart as he stared down at your slowly writhing hips. Karl wasn't emotionally affected by his dirty talk earlier but now that he's touching your clit through your panties, the guilt weighing heavily on his heart almost made him run but your voice pulled him down, grounding him

"Touch me here, father."

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Asking to be finger fucked in front of the lord, aren't you a kinky little slut?"

You nodded feverishly, groaning as you pushed his hand down, mewling at the pressure applied to your clit. The fabric was absolutely drenched in your wetness and Karl almost blacked out.

He didn’t need to hear your words next, his hand pulling the cloth to one side before the other slid down into your folds, brushing over your clenching hole and rising up to press onto your clit. You moaned, hips following the slow swirl of his finger.

Karl wondered what he could do to you, there’s a lot of possibilities and he’s lightheaded at the thought of them.

He could have you trembling from pleasure upon pleasure here on the floor but he could also treat you properly and calmly guide you to your climax. Karl wondered what could satisfy a minx like you.

“Karl please…”

Of course this isn't enough. He slipped two fingers in and you let out a strangled moan at the sudden but welcomed intrusion, back arching when he curled his digit to reach up to the spongy spot continuously that got your hips rising from the floor.

You moaned and panted so sweetly in his ears, hands gripping onto his sleeves as he plunged his two fingers in and out of your cunt at a growing frequency.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

His hand picked up a pace and you mewled, head falling back to his shoulder as your hips rose to meet his thrusts. The wet squelch bouncing off the walls with every thrust of his finger made your cheeks burn from embarrassment but they only goaded him on.

The apparent burning phantom stare now numb to him as he opened your thighs further for his gaze.

Karl felt light at the feeling of your walls clamping around his hand greedily, sucking him in yet also pushing him out, it was maddening. His length ached behind the confines of his pants, desiring nothing but to plunge himself into your heat and die a happy man.

“My little princess is so drenched for me.” He slid another digit into your folds, smoothly joining the already inserted fingers in its increasing pace and you fluttered. “Don't you have any shame for spreading your legs in front of God?”

A slick slap tore a yelp from your throat, the sting lighting your skin aflame before his fingers plunged itself again into your hole with a renewed vigour, the new pace got your knees flinching to close but his legs wedging between them prevented it from shutting and instead opened it further.

You cursed under your breath, hands rising up to massage your breasts, pulling on your nipples as you moaned like a crazy woman in his arms.

Karl watched with bated breath as his hands retracted and reentered your cunt, throat tightening as your walls clamped onto his curling fingers with an iron grip. You were crumbling in his arms and he’s elated, he was enjoying his effect on you, whose body is sensitive and responsive to his every touch.

It was an addictive feeling and he’s obsessed.

“Fa-faster…! Fuck.. Karl!”

"Aren't you ashamed you're being finger fucked in front of the lord, princess?"

You clenched at him as your head shifted in his shoulder, probably to look at the statue above you both before moaning a little louder than before, undeterred by the omniscient eyes possibly watching him pump his fingers in and out of you.

He thrust his fingers in and out feverishly, like his life depended on it. With his legs keeping your thighs firmly open, you had no choice but take it all, hips thrashing wildly and bucking into his fingers. Karl clamped a hand over your mouth as your moans increased in volume, bouncing off the walls of the church.

He was proud he's making you scream but he wouldn't want to wake up any of the sisters nor concern the locals with your screams.

"I-I'm close..!"

"Come for me princess, give it to your darling priest."

The pressure from his palm bumping into your clit along with the rapid thrust of his digits soon got you trembling as hot white flashed behind your closed lids and you came.

You screamed into his palm as your orgasm came without a warning, exploding and lewdly expelling liquid pleasure into the chapel floor before trembling pathetically in his arms, body reduced to the state of euphoria.

Karl retracted his hand with a squelch, raising it to eye level to revel in the wetness fully coating it, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at them drooping down before sucking on his fingers. Your flavour exploded on his tongue and he groaned.

"You taste so fucking good baby. Did so well for me."

Your hands weakly tugged on his pants and he knew what you wanted.

Because he also wished the same.

Soon enough, his pants were tossed somewhere behind him and he was left standing on his boxers. The stiff tent on them immediately caught your eyes and you reached out to free him from the constricting fabric, hand wrapping around his base once he was completely bare.

Karl dared to let his fantasies play in front of him as he watched your hand pump him slowly and you stared at him through your eyelash before kissing the tip of his cock with feigned innocence, he groaned.

What a minx you are.

“Can I taste you, Father Karl?”

“Later, on your back now, princess.”

His hands guided you down carefully, palm splaying onto your abdomen as if your body would break under miniscule of pressure, his words and actions not correlating as he naturally hovered over your body.

There must've been divine intervention when you laid, spread and vulnerable in front of him. The moonlight escaping the huge mirror behind the altar shone perfectly down on your body, highlighting your perky nips and casting shadows on places that made you look more desirable than earlier when you were kneeling.

Karl couldn't help but be thankful that he was rewarded with such a sight in this life.

"You're so pretty."

His head bent down to place a haste kiss on your stomach and your breath hitched. The heat of his breath and the hovering weight of his length on your fold frying your nerve endings aflame as he peppered kisses all over your body.

"Karl, please."

A huge hand entangled themselves with yours, his face hovering on top of you, noses a hair's width. He could feel your exhales on your lips, awakening the butterflies in his stomach as you stared at his lips.

Breathless, he asked. "What do you want, princess? I need to hear it"

"Kiss me please."

You didn't need to ask twice when Karl leaned down to capture yours in a slow dance. Time slowed, all you could feel was the softness and warmth of his skin under your touch and slightly chapped lips caught between yours.

He reached a hand to cup your cheeks, scared that you'll be another dream of his as you nibbled on his lower lip.

You only stopped when breathing became a problem, Karl pulling away first to place kisses between the valley of your breast before he rose to head level, silently asking for permission as he stared deep into your eyes.

No words were said but you understood what he wanted. His eyes reminding you of a begging dog as it stares deep into yours.

With a nod and a trembling exhale at the promise of pleasure he was about to give you, the head of his length parted your hole, walls clenching around him as he entered. A searing heat flooding your folds as you adjusted to his thickness while he carefully inserted himself into you.

His groan rumbled deep in his lungs and ricocheted in the shell of your ears before sending shivers down your spine, the pain of his iron grip on your waist only fueling the burn of lust raging in your veins.

His firm composure shook, eyebrows crunching and eyes closing in unadulterated pleasure just from entering you.

Karl almost passed out, your warmth clamping around his dick so greedily is taking his breath away. Lord forbids he moves, he might come earlier than he'd want to.

God give me strength.

"Relax a little, baby." His thumb found your bundle of nerves and rolled it gingerly in tight cirlces as he slowly pushed all of his inches inside your cunt.

You felt full to the brim. You haven’t had someone as thick as Father Karl before but it was a welcomed change. Your breath stuck in your throat as you adjusted to his length, legs wrapping around his middle as your body decided between keeping him inside and ejecting him.

Karl's head fell to your shoulders, grunting and panting as your walls crazily pulsed around him, crunching his eyes as he focused on something else other than coming earlier than he'd want to.

"I-I'm sorry, it's been a while."

His body shuddered as he struggled to withhold his own climax for you. There’s a sick part of yourself that glowed at the sight of his struggle, small whimpers erupting from his throat as he hid his reddened cheeks from your eyes.

Karl is breathtaking when he’s domineering and demanding but absolutely sinful when he’s panting and embarrassed.

Experimentally, you wound your legs around his lower back and tighten around him. A strangled whine left his lips, the sound sinful yet so sweet as his nails dug into the skin of your waist. "St-stop it."

"Come on, Karl. I wanna see you come."

"F-fuck…!" He weakly exclaimed, his composure faltering as you squeezed harder. “Stop..!”

“But you look so pretty like this.”

You wiggled your hips and he folds, his back falling and rising in quick successions before he pulled out and splattered his hot semen into your abdomen. You couldn’t help but giggle at this. A crisp slap echoed in the room, his hand leaving an angry mark on your left inner thigh.

"You are in so much trouble, young lady."

"Am I really?"

Your teasing chuckle halted in your throat when he plunged three digits into your heat, moving them at a feverish pace, not letting you adjust to the stretch. Your hips rose from the ground from the sudden influx of stimulation, trying to avoid his unforgiving thrust but the firm hold on your waist prevented you from moving away.

A wicked grin spreads on Karl's face as your legs flail around him, heels digging into his thighs and pushing him away but the man relents.

“Stop moving and take it like a good little slut.” He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, squeezing hard enough to hurt but not to bleed.

Blood rushes up to your cheeks at the name, embarrassingly aroused by it. The stinging pain it brought became the pleasure that ran down to his length, hardening it further. You could only wail in place, his iron grip on your waist unrelenting.

Your body erupted in flames, every vein of your body scorched with the fierceness of pleasure running through them, every collision of his hips into yours sending sparks down your thighs. There was nothing but moans and whines leaving your lips as the coils in your abdomen tightened with every thrust and Karl knew it.

His eyes rose to your lust clouded eyes, down to your bouncing breasts and standing nipples almost begging for his touch before it fell to your cunt sucking him in greedily as you bounced on his cock.

He burned the image of your sex-drunk state at the back of his eyelids, such a sight should be treasured forever.

A sloppy slap echoed in the chapel and your legs closed around his body, his fingers retreats from your hole only to be replaced by his length, immediately lodging himself to the hilt, his head almost nudging your uterus.

"Fuck!"

"That's right baby. This priest is fucking you good tonight."

He folded your legs to your stomach before starting his rampage, pulling out until his head remained before bottoming out in a flash and you screamed as you came apart without warning.

Even with your legs twitching and your sobs increasing in volume, Karl only continued, even daring to speed up. He didn't mind that you're about to leave bleeding scratches on his forearm, if anything, they're proof of this encounter. Something he'll surely remember in his waking days and sleepless nights.

Just like how he carved himself inside you.

You stuttered out incoherent words as he thrusted in and out of you in quick progressions, impatient and rabid. Pleasure and pain intermingled with each other so much your brain couldn't process which one is which as they blurred, deeply cock drunk to w

There was something about how you're letting him witness such a sight, to let him bask in your lust driven state that makes his heart grow.

So trusting and so perfect for him, God himself is truly generous to grant him this opportunity.

"K-Karl, please..! I can't—"

"You can baby, now give me another one."

As if his dick continuously poking your g-spot wasn't enough, his hand moved down to roll your protruding bundle of nerves and you swore you saw fireworks behind your eyelids.

Pleasure flooded and fogged your already sex-addled mind, your own thoughts overshadowed by your own arousal and you screamed. Karl watched your shaking thighs with sadistic glee before the dam broke and you squirt.

Your throat grew hoarse and dry as your climax tore a moan from it. Karl pulled out until the tip and plunged back in, albeit slowly this time, his ears tuned to your incoherent blabbers as he chased his own high.

“I-I can’t anymore.”

His palm felt like spring after a harsh winter when it splayed on your back and rubbed your skin gently, comforting but it did nothing to your shaking legs. “Just a little bit more, princess. Can you do that for me?”

You only hummed a response, there was nothing you could do with weakened limbs and a traitorously hungry cunt despite the stings of pain lashing across it. His groans rumbled deep into your middle.

“Next time, I’ll fuck you properly on a bed, treat you like a princess and a cock sleeve that you deserve. Would you like that baby?”

You nod, tears spilling down your eyes as his hips collided into yours, the promise of a next time lost in your muddled thoughts. It didn't take long before thick strings of his cum flooded into your insides, his own climax triggering yours and your body shook.

Karl couldn’t help but chuckle as your greedy cunt constricts around nothing to keep his seeds from spilling out. Seeing his come ooze out of your pulsing cunt sent tremors down his spine but he has to stop now, you’re already spent tonight.

Later.

He rose to pick your lax figure up from the floor and forced you to sit on the nearest pews before going around the room to pick up your discarded clothes. Karl decided on forgoing his t-shirt to use it to wipe his essence staining the wood and your skin, your wordlessness made him nervous.

You could be still gliding from the state he reduced you to or maybe you were regretting everything, either way, Karl is scared, you could see it in his eyes as he gingerly wiped you down and dressed you up until you gathered the strength to do it yourself.

Laying on the floor indeed gave you back aches and with the weakness of your limbs from your previous endeavours exhausted you incredibly, the comfortable silence of the room only pulling you closer to sleep, something Karl immediately took notice of.

“Did you regret it?”

You cupped his cheeks, keeping his eyes firmly on yours before shaking your head. “No, I don’t.”

“Wanna stay the night?”

“If you promise to let me hog your blankets.”

He grinned, kissing the tip of your nose. “Of course princess.”

#karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagines #karl jacobs #karl mcyt #karl x reader #karl jacobs smut #mcyt smut #priest smut #karl mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader #overstimulation #dream smp smut #dream smp imagines #dream smp fics #dream smp x reader fics

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ficbrish · 4 months

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Devotion

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 27th - Wax Play]

[[TW/CW: Blood]]

Summary: Astarion and Vistri devote themselves to one another.

Durge Vistri and Astarion on the night after the graveyard scene, in the Lower City camp church. There are SPOILERS for BG3, Dark Urge, and Astarion under the line!

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Astarion could barely articulate himself over his full-chested guffaws, “You are—You are too… Cannot be serious!”

The damp stone of the ruined church crashed with the echo of their voices. Their laughter shouted and bounced between its crumbling walls as if coming from a thousand people, but it was just Astarion with his Vistri.

“It’s true!” she insisted, her voice so full of amusement it went pitchy, “We did!”

Tears were actually streaming down his cheekbones, “Why was I not there?!”

“I don’t know! You were off somewhere.”

“You didn’t wait for me!”

“We couldn’t!” Vistri laughed, “I swear!”

“Then do it again,” Astarion demanded in an even, heated tone. It made them burst apart.

Their cackles smashed crudely across the old stone. Vistri wiped the tears from Astarion’s eyes, her hands shaking with laughter. He grabbed her fingers and kissed them reverently.

“How did you do it?” he asked.

“Shadow,” Vistri collapsed on herself out of hilarity, “Shadowheart and Lae’zel pretended to get into a fight—”

“Pretended?”

“Yes, well, this time.”

“Ah. Do go on.”

“Right. They were shouting over by Wyll, because as you know, Mizora always hangs over by Wyll. Because—”

“Because she’s obsessed with him.”

“Right. Exactly. So,” Vistri broke into giggles again, “So Mizora leaves and—”

“And?” Astarion asked impatiently as Vistri struggled to control herself.

“And when she passed me by! I did a little spell! And… It shoved her stupid, devil panties up her big, blue arse!”

“I hate you!” he howled, laughing.

Vistri was so far gone she collapsed into his chest. If Astarion were to let go now, her face would surely crash into the floor.

“I’m sorry!”

“Without me there!”

“I know!”

“You bitch!”

“I know!”

They sunk to the floor. His knees weakened and his balance collapsed. He fell, and she fell on top of him.

Then there was silence in the church. Only Astarion staring up at Vistri, and Vistri gazing down at Astarion. Their chests danced with heavy breath. He reached up to tuck her little braid behind her ear.

“You are my whole heart,” he whispered.

Vistri shut her eyes, and he reached up to wipe away her tears, “Don’t cry, love.”

She laughed, “It’s so ridiculous! I don’t know why.”

A salty, warm drop landed on Astarion. He let it trickle down his own cheek, leaving a cool trail across his face of her inner life incarnate.

He sat up to hold her better, “Do you have to know?”

Her head shook against his chest.

“That’s all right. Sometimes these things just happen.”

Vistri shut her eyes and found fear woven under layers of her forgotten self. She also found it in Astarion’s care. Somehow those two discoveries were linked, she knew that, but didn’t know what it meant.

Throwing her arms around his neck, clinging like a lost child, she begged him to find her, “I think I might be afraid.”

“Can I tell you a secret, love?”

She nodded and wiped her nose on her arm, for she had no sleeves.

“I’m always afraid.”

He spoke his admittance so close to her trembling lips. She could taste him through his words, and the ache and the void in her both shouted for the salve of him. Vistri leaned in for a kiss. The warmth of it stung her frigid fear.

The moment stilled; they found the stars. His tongue slipped past her lips, and Vistri moaned her acceptance. Now Astarion knew these appetites were truly his, he found himself ravenous.

“Wait,” she interrupted.

“What is it, love?” he asked, his lips lingering on her neck. There was a nasty bite sitting in his fangs with her pulse so near.

“I had a… plan for tonight.”

He nibbled her ear, “Is it a naughty plan?”

Vistri laughed the spikes out of her skin, “A rather silly plan, but one from—Gods!—from the heart.”

Astarion loved when she went all shy, it made her perfect to tease. He chuckled “Please do tell. What does your silly, little plan entail?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“You’ve already made me laugh plenty.”

Vistri rolled her eyes, but she was blushing, “Okay.”

Astarion grinned ridiculously as he helped Vistri to her feet. Her silly, little plan burned inside her pockets. She was discovering so many shades of fear this evening. She thought through this moment so many times it felt casual enough to do for real. Now her thoughts scrambled for a way out, but even with the best excuse, nothing in her wanted to lie to him. Even a tiny deception, after all they’d been through, felt like betraying everything they fostered.

Even at her bravest, Vistri still couldn’t meet his eyes, “I kept something I found in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. I’ve wanted to show you for a while. To share with you...”

Her fist pulled the keepsake from her pocket and stayed shut, “Although, as I warned you, it’s so silly—I just never found the right time.”

A deep breath, and her palm blossomed like a flower; two gold rings sitting at its center.

“…Oh…”

“Please don’t panic!” she said, ignoring her own advice, “I don’t mean it to be that serious.”

Astarion smirked, “Looking to wed me with a delicate veil of blood blooming over my white curls, darling?”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

He shook his head as if the denial was delicious to him, “Never in all my days. I’m just as sure of that as I am of you.”

The impulse to forgive him was blasted away by his sudden outburst of laughter.

“Well, I meant this to be a little serious…”

“No,” he protested, trying his best to regain his composure, “You don’t understand!”

“You said you weren’t going to laugh!”

“I made no such promise, but don’t worry. In a moment, you’ll be laughing too.”

Watching him reach into his pockets, Vistri searched for the punchline. Maybe he was freaked out. Maybe he didn’t understand—

“Turns out, we think quite alike. Eerily similar, really.”

Astarion presented in his palm a different set of rings. Vistri’s mind reeled as a dizzying wave crashed over her.

His confession was shy, even though she’d gone first, “I kept these too. Found them near that Sharran nightmare of a hospital—bleak as it was. Always wanted to show you, but never found the excuse. Until now, you perfect thing.”

Vistri wiped her eyes, scoffing, “Who are we?”

“The kind of people who exchange rings in a church. Apparently,” he giggled.

“Gods, it’s so embarrassing.”

Astarion gathered her face with his free hand and held her close. He kissed the top of her head, feeling her hair on his lips, “Why not be as embarrassing as we can fathom?”

Vistri laughed into his chest, “Okay.”

“So… Uh, what do we do now?”

She cleared her throat, “How about… I’ll give you one of mine, and you’ll give me one of yours. Then we can… Oh, maybe we declare how we feel—Is that dumb? Answer me honest.”

His happiness sang though his eyes, “Every time we reach into our pockets, or look down at our hands, we’ll remember that we belong to each other.”

She almost couldn’t take it when he was this sincere, “Your rings are so much fancier than mine.”

Astarion smiled kindly, “I believe they have a warding bond, so do let me know when you plan to wear it.”

“Wait! But that’s—If I get hurt, then you…?”

“I don’t see how that’s any different. Any scratch on you is a stake through my heart. It’s all the same to me.”

A hard lump thrummed alongside Vistri’s pulse as they fought for occupancy of her throat. There was no space left for sentiments, “Mine don’t do anything special.”

“What made you keep them?”

“They belonged to a local couple—dead now,” she swallowed, “The letters on them… They appeared entirely devoted to one another. A couple of ordinary people, but they—You could just tell they were happy, even though there’s nothing left now but bleached bones.”

“And that made you think of me? Other’s devotions?”

She nodded, ashamed to hear her impulse spoken aloud.

“Then they’re special,” he stated. Astarion had more to say, but the words got caught.

Countless things tugged on her soul, haunted things and resurrected dreams. They crawled out from her arteries like roaches, skittering onto her skin.

“I’m the spawn of a murder god.”

“And I’m the spawn of a vampire lord.”

Vistri shook her head, “You’re your own person now.”

“And I still want to be here. Isn’t that funny?”

“Oh, it’s hilarious.”

That was it, though. Astarion could give his affections freely now his life was his to lead. Bhaal still owned her future, and father didn’t approve. Astarion could dispense promises, but Vistri could only give wishes. It didn’t feel fair; made it harder to take everything in.

“I don’t quite know what living is,” she said, “But I know I want to spend it with you.”

Astarion kissed her, “Put a ring on my finger, love.”

She blinked, recovering from the whirlwind of his kiss, “What should I say?”

“No cheating!” he chided dramatically, “Tell me something you feel and something you promise. I’ll do the same.”

“But I can’t make promises,” she heard herself say.

“And why not?”

“The Urge. It’s still in me.”

“I’d rather be the only dark power inside of you.”

“Astarion!” she giggled.

“What does the Urge have to do with anything? A bit of rope when you feel it coming on, and nobody dies.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

“Could you make promises before Cazador was dead? Really, truly give yourself to anything? Even if you longed for it with your whole heart.”

“Shit.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Astarion held her tight and thought for a moment. He knew the answer but wanted something different. Even though there was nothing binding in their little theatre, he felt a great sorrow. His freedom didn’t feel the same without hers.

“If you can’t promise, you can’t promise. What else can you do instead?”

Her voice was thick, “I can wish for something. Wishes, I can put my whole heart into.”

He gave the tip of her nose an affectionate peck, “Then we can exchange wishes for now, and save promises for later. Actually—Please allow me one promise. And you don’t even have to return it because you already fulfilled what would be your end of the bargain.”

“…All right.”

“I know-I know it’s bullshit until it happens, but I promise you, you’ll be free of him. As free as I am now. I’ll kill a god if I have to! I don’t know. But I know you won’t be his toy forever, love. And when your life is all yours, on that day, we can make promises together.”

“I think that was three.”

“Vistri.”

“You said one promise.”

He frowned.

“Astarion, I’ll die if I think of it. I can’t hope. I can’t think of it.”

“You won’t die, love, but we can wait if that’s what you want.”

She nodded, “Give me your hand.”

“Oh, right!”

It was like marble, pretty and delicate with a solid strength. His long, pale fingers reminded Vistri of feathers. Art made of nature.

“How I feel about you and a wish?”

“Yes,” he said dryly, “But do make sure it’s only one wish. Otherwise, I’ll come for you.”

Vistri giggled, “I did not come for you!”

Astarion raised his brow, “Really? My mistake.”

“Shush! I’m trying to put together how I feel and you’re teasing me.”

One of his fingers tickled her palm, “Can’t wait to do more than tease you.”

She had to close her eyes and shut him out, or else she wouldn’t make him wait. Vistri knew how she felt, but none of it was in the shape of words. Maybe there was a language out there with some to capture it, but even from the fathomlessness of the Astral Planes, she couldn’t conceive of such a vocabulary existing.

So she settled for her best attempt, “The more you show me, the more I love. Knowing you… Every bit I see, I cherish. You are my favorite thing about the world, and-and I want you. Astarion, I want all of you.”

His tone was warmly strained, “And what do you wish?”

“For our lives to be blended, always. No matter what happens, I wish to never be rid of you.”

Her hands shook as she slipped one of her gold rings onto his finger. After finding which it fit, Vistri lifted it to her lips to bless it.

Emotion clouded his speech, “Thank you. Here let me put the other one on you too.”

They didn’t linger in the moment because they couldn’t. One glance at their matching gilded hands was like a peak at the sun, and their eyes burned from it.

Astarion still had to mark the moment before moving on, “It’s kind of like we’re wearing your heart on our fingers, isn’t it?”

Vistri laughed out of happiness.

“Let’s add mine then, shall we?” he asked, taking hold of her other hand.

“I kept these because I want to protect you. I didn’t tell you about them because I figured you’d never agree. At first. Then I felt too much to give them. Honestly, they’d probably just rot away in a drawer for centuries if you hadn’t brought yours out first. So, thank you for being braver than I. And for being patient with me. And so kind.”

“You taught me how to be all of those things.”

“I was there as you learned along the way. You, my dear, cultivated all that yourself. It’s why I love you so. Or part of why. It’s rather inexplicable actually, which makes the part where I tell you how I feel a bit difficult. How could I possibly capture all of it in the turn of a phrase?”

“Right? It’s so hard!”

“You made it seem so easy,” he giggled, “I’m just so happy that I don’t know what to say. I’m still getting to know what that is, happy, but you’re the one who first introduced it. Actually… That’s my wish. To learn enough that I can tell you. I’ll discover every detail and translate for you; whisper it into your ears every night. That’s what I feel, and that’s what I wish.”

He put the ring on Vistri that would hurt him the next time anyone dared harm her. Astarion would take the hit, even if it were from Bhaal himself. Then she dressed him with the other of the bonded pair. Now they had her heart on one hand and his on the other. Seeing the rings felt the same as when they took each other over his grave once he decided to live again.

“I’m yours now,” Astarion promised.

Vistri threw her arms around his neck, “I was always yours.”

To Astarion, Vistri was the light you see before death, and it brought him back to life. Unreal and bright, like an ideal end to a story; bliss shouted over the blight of his past, and he surrendered to its ebullience. It welled in his eyes, and she kissed it away. He brought her face closer and tasted her mouth before touching her lips. Dissolving self into an ‘us’, they slipped their tongues onto each other, slipped hands under cloth to meet the cool skin underneath.

He picked her up and sat her upon the altar, and possessed, they moaned. Helpless to whatever would happen next, each touch spurred another touch. Every taste only provoked their appetites. Powerless to the miracle of each other, they surrendered to it together.

Astarion leaned forward and crawled to her kiss.

She eagerly gave it, then stole her tongue away to remark, “Good thing our families aren’t here.”

His laughter barked through the church, bouncing down the empty aisles.

Vistri grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him back in, to devour him. He met her with a deep “mmmppphh” that she could feel the buzz of along her teeth. His intoxicating taste was the only thing she ever wanted for the rest of time. Astarion didn’t realize how lucky he was, not having to breathe. Vistri always had to eventually pull away.

“I love you,” slipped out of her so naturally, and used to be so hard to say. It was like taking flight.

Astarion kissed her, over and over, before saying it back.

“I have no gods,” he whispered softly against her jaw, “But I can worship you.”

Vistri yelped from the want that clenched around her like a vice, and she squirmed under his chest.

“I’ll have no sovereign,” she panted, “But I can devote myself to you.”

Astarion smiled so widely it broke their kiss, “You are the most precious thing.”

He stood up and surveyed her with a wild look of affection mixed with lust. Candlelight flickered against the glint in his eye. Then he turned to the long-forgotten, burning votive candles at their side, and told her—

“I have an idea.”

Vistri slipped her tunic off, exposing her back and chest to the cold stone altar.

“I think I like your idea,” she said, having followed the trajectory of his eyes.

“Lie back, darling.”

The candles dripped onto Astarion’s hands before their melted wax met Vistri’s soft stomach. He gritted his teeth and made no sounds. She cried out and laughed heatedly.

A little drop of it on her hip, a button over solid bone. A little stab of a burn that faded fast. As the lightness of pain left her, Astarion caressed her other hip, a gentle tease of his feathery finger. Vistri felt her heart expose itself a bit more with every drop and subsequent caress.

She unraveled as he lowered himself, kneeling. Her belly and hips were decorated with dried wax, and having left a satisfactory painting, Astarion tore her trousers off. Lustily, he trailed his mouth along the inside of her leg. As his touch on her skin cooled in the absence of his tongue, he tipped the dying candle to drip wet heat onto her shivering thigh.

Vistri yelped and Astarion kissed her, slowly, just above the knee.

“Does that hurt, love?”

“A little.”

“Do you like when it hurts?”

Vistri outstretched her arms. She ran her fingers through his hair, tangling herself in it. His fangs scraped along her skin, and she pulled his hair, dragging his face up and down her thigh. Astarion knew his hunger would never best him, but he trembled from the fight.

“I love it when it hurts.

He groaned, a stumble in his control that provided such relief raw emotion escaped it like steam.

Stroking his curls, she begged, “Bite me.”

His armed linked around her thigh like a serpent. Vistri gasped, feeling his teeth pierce the most vulnerable spot, the part prey should never expose to a predator. And he drank her up, sucked her down. Vistri felt the weakness in her head as she gave herself as sacrifice to his ecstasy.

“Take me,” she moaned, rolling her hips; draping her other leg over his shoulder.

He gulped her down with a whimper, then pulled back with a whine. His bloody grin was more warm than devilish. She wanted to see more of it; felt excitement at the prospect of coming days filled with it.

Astarion kissed his bloody bite mark and licked up the mess. Vistri leaned back as his tongue travelled further upwards. When it found her center, he looped his elbows under her knees, and gave it a kiss.

Vistri cried out his name, and the stone shouted it back to them. He felt her nails skate across his scalp and onto his ears. When she grew louder than he knew she wanted to be, Astarion added his fingers to her sweet torment. His sucking and stretching radiated into a beam that made existing in her body something good for once.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured along her folds, “Be a dear and die a little for me.”

Her body took his words as an imperative. The ruined stone around them hadn’t sheltered such praises for decades.

Vistri sat to kiss him with abandon. His hands worked at his tunic, and she helped him out of it. Then off went his breeches and stockings. Naked and trembling, Astarion joined her on the altar. Bodies intertwined; they reached a state of perfection.

Perhaps they were the gods this church was rotting away for.

Vistri rolled out from under him. Straddling him, she looked down and surveyed her beloved. He twitched and shuddered pleasantly as she teased him with a gradual grind of her hips. Hard and unsatisfied, the slow movement against him was equal parts pleasure and torture.

She reached out with a finger to trace his lips, “Whenever I look at you, devotion becomes my favorite word.”

Astarion brought her finger into his mouth, curling the tip of his tongue around it.

“It’s a higher form of love, you see. Most people only give such a thing to gods. It’s when you dedicate yourself, body and soul, to something else. A paladin’s oath. I never wanted to be Bhaal’s chosen, but there isn’t a moment where I don’t wish to be yours.”

He was coming apart underneath her, “Vistri…”

“I love you, and I can’t believe I found you.”

His grip on her thighs tightened enough for her to gasp. He panted, “Take me.”

Doing so all at once, he tore through her like a blade. She needed more, and raised herself for another fall, again and again. Astarion moaned freely under her, not trapped but released; his voice like that of a chanting priest blessing an offering.

Having just feasted on her dragon, god blood, Astarion grew too restless to lie there and take it. He didn’t want to spoil such a splendid sight, but he needed somewhere to put all the power roiling through him. He sat up, embracing her writhing form. Overpowering her rhythm, he wrested control; holding Vistri tight in his lap, rutting into her.

Astarion knew her ecstasy by her breath before he felt her pulse and squeeze around him. Her shouts rumbled under his tongue as he licked her neck. His eyes began to roll back, but he held on to watch her die another few deaths.

“You belong to me now, darling,” he said, “For as long as you wish.”

“I wish it. I wish it.”

“Do you love me?”

“I love you.”

“And who are you devoted to?”

“You, Astarion. Devoted to you.”

“Oh, I know that. Tell me again.”

“Devoted… to yo—Hah—you!”

He flipped her over like a cat with its plaything. On her side a while, then her back.

“Look at me,” he said, and she lost herself. Astarion tumbled into the unknowing with her. Who they were peeled away, leaving only how they felt.

Breath was their last offering to the altar. Reality returned with their clothes, but they brought their fantasy back with them. Their feelings and wishes sat solidly on each other’s fingers and beat life in their chests.

Not wanting to leave the church yet, they sat up against the altar and each other.

“You know,” Astarion remarked, “I thought last night was the best one of my life until tonight.”

Vistri’s muscles were still getting used to smiling so wide, “Every day with you is better than the last.”

He kissed her forehead, “Can’t wait to see tomorrow.”

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

#vistarion #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober list #prompt fill #vistri #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #full fic #durge x astarion #astarion x durge #devotion fic #BrishFics #smut #fluff #lemon #bg3 spoilers #durge spoilers

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regulus-needs-swimminglessons · 2 months

Text

Alrighty kids, dad has some thoughts to share.

I‘m talking about Helluva Boss episode 6 „Truth Seeker“… uhm obviously spoilers yk

Just to remind y‘all in this episode ma bois Blitz and Moxxie were kidnapped by some shady government people. They were eventually drugged resulting in one funky ass trip. What I wanna talk about is this scene:

(Pic is a direkt screenshot from the episode on YouTube)

In his drug out state Blitz finds himself crawling up these stairs with Stolas sitting at the top, taunting him the entire time. But lets take a look at the colour scheme. Because obviously I‘m not the first to notice what this looks like, especially considering the white feathers falling down and everything.

(Got the pic from the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Wiki)

Folks, lemme introduce you to Blitz personal stairway to heaven.

Now Heaven has always been a sort of scary concept to me (religious trauma says hi) the pure desperation I have seen in some members of my old church. It honestly terrified me more than their accusations and shouts of me being sent to hell to burn in eternal damnation. I see this desperation in Blitz here.

Imps are ranked lowest in hell‘s hierarchy yet Blitz managed to build an independent business and make a name for himself, he has a family as fucked up as they might be, but he needs the book (can’t spell the proper word, to lazy too look it up). He can‘t call off the deal without loosing everything he‘s worked so hard to gain.

But them something unexpected happened to him. Blitz found his heaven with Stolas. Going back to the first pic we can see that he in not only putting Stolas in a clear position of power here, he is going as far as putting him in the position of God. A crule unloving god, a paradise he can never reach without giving himself up completely. Their deal binds him, he is stuck watching, reaching out but never quite grasping. And to him Stolas is the puppeteer behind all this pulling on his strings making him do as he pleases but still Blitz can not help but want him. For more than the book, for more than just sex. Blitz wants Stolas.

Golden binds appear on his limps and yet he still continues his way up. At first of his own accord but when he shows a moment of hesitation Stolas is there with a chain around his neck to pull him up the rest of the way (not unlike the chains we see between overlords and the souls they own is Hazbin Hotel)

This is how he sees his relationship with Stolas. Blitz gives all the power over to him and he hates it. But quite like the souls in Hazbin he can‘t leave.

Lastly I wanna address the figures standing beside Stolas with the big fan things, because they too look like Blitz. He is serving Stolas constantly even when he hasn‘t even made it halfway up the stairs and not getting any acknowledgment for it. (this is of course what Blitz perceives / belives, because obviously Stolas wants nothin‘ more than to love this little guy)

I don‘t think Blitz is even consciously aware of all this shit. He just knows that there is a power imbalance (which is very real btw. no matter how much Stolas wants to ignore it) and he doesn‘t like it.

Welp I hope this made sense, was just something that was brewing in my head for a while so I thought might as well put it out there, offering my mind to the people’s judgement.

Have a nice day everyone!

#helluva boss #blizø #stolas #character study #blitzo x stolas

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uefb · 4 months

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Chapter One of Aimez-vous les uns les autres (Love One Another) posted today, sequel to Far Away from Temple After Sunset

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and the first night of Hanukkah when Newt and Tina are injured in an action against Grindelwald, whereafter they are evacuated with Theseus & co. by the Magical Resistance to a small church in rural France. Dealing with curse-exhaustion, landmine injuries, and travel through Nazi- and Grindelwald-occupied regions isn’t how either of them expected to spend the holidays, but—-in the big scheme of things—-there were, arguably, worse ways to finish 1940… In the end, the experience brings them closer together and—-back in England—-holidays with their families give them paradoxical hope for shared peace in the years to come. (Written for @afrenchaugurey!)

Excerpt (opening scene):

Newt had woken up in an extraordinary number of incredibly strange places in his life, but—for him—coming to on top of a hay bale in the back of a Muggle lorry was really maybe the strangest.

In fact, if he weren’t so groggy, he certainly would have done more than a double-take to find his injured leg elevated on the thighs of what appeared to be an actual Christian pastor, sitting on the haystack directly beside him. Newt moved his arm to scratch at his nose then, only to fuzzily realise he’d been warmly tucked into what was definitely said pastor’s clerical robes, so he ultimately only succeeded in hitting himself in the face with its massive sleeves...

The pastor had looked up at him by then to offer a smile, but Newt’s mind still wasn’t up to its normal speed—though his heart felt like it was pounding doubletime—so he broke the gaze as fast as he could, casting about for his brother, who must have heard the shift of his head because—

“Merlin’s beard!” — A voice from across and behind him in the truck, and then Theseus had knelt on the dusty boards beside him, fingers instantly feeling at his wrist and neck for pulse and pressure, before pulling back to balance on his haunches, brows furrowed. “You are drugged to the gills, little brother... How in Gamp’s good name are you awake?” [1]

As the truck bounced over a particularly deep pothole, Newt couldn’t help throwing the robe’s sleeve over his eyes to hide his discomfort. Beside him, he could hear Theseus saved from falling on his rump thanks to the soft thump of one of the maquisards’ boots at his back.

“Humans don’t have gills,” he finally murmured through gritted teeth. “And to answer your question, I’ve developed a rather unfortunate resistance to a number of common substances, that’s why I’m awake…” A beat and a frown. “Where’s Tina?”

“You’re on her, Newt.”

He uncovered his face, tilting his head back to see what he was pillowed on, only to be met with the gentle dip at the top of his wife’s thighs; the scratch of her warm, wool coat; the subtle scent of her perfume that always reminded him of camping for pleasure (not work) in Puzzlewood Forest… [2]

He twisted back further for a better look (and he caught a glimpse of her, too—head low and pillowed on Auror Voorhees’ shoulder, deeply asleep), but Theseus put a hand on his chest to urge him back down before he could better assess her.

“Stop moving. Macmillan’s stability spells on your leg are already being tested by these roads...”

Newt relaxed reluctantly into the dry hay, and Theseus thoughtfully transfigured a handkerchief into a towel to tuck beneath his neck when he noticed him grimace at the texture.

“Look,” he reassured, “she’s fine — just utterly exhausted. She’ll be good as new with a few cautionary countercurses and a couple days’ rest. And we hope to be able to say the same for you soon.”

“So - where are we going then?” Newt countered with quiet acceptance, glancing from the pastor to Theseus and back again. “And - and what is he doing here?”

“Don’t worry,” Theseus reassured glibly. “He’s a squib.”

#need to do a tiny bit of editing for geographic and magical clarity but it’s here for now!#my stuff #tina goldstein #newt scamander #Theseus scamander #shameless hurt/comfort #holiday fic #jewish tina goldstein #autistic newt scamander #fantastic beasts fanfic #scamander brothers #chapter 1 of 4 #I write the scamanders as largely non-religious bc it’s easier for me bc that’s how I was raised so this has been a fun fic #to learn more about certain cultures - customs - history etc!!#fantastic beasts and where to find them

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one-coming-is-enough · 5 months

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I wanna hear about your beef with Mr. Claus, if you don't mind.

I've been sleeping on this ask for a minute, and it's time, honestly. I've had such a busy holiday season already, it's crazy! I mean, this year in addition to all the zombies, I'm trying to get through the training videos for taking over Hell, and they're meandering, awkward, and full of incoherent jargon. It's just a lot!

But the 6th was St. Nicholas's Day, and tonight it's Hanukkah, so I should definitely answer this one.

St. Nicholas is a decent guy, if a little stiff-necked. His thing is giving dowries to poor women so they don't have to go into sex work. And also bringing poor children back to life after they're sold for stew meat.

(Also, he was the one who proposed at the Council of Nicea that Easter be celebrated on the first full moon after the spring equinox, which tied it to the solar calendar instead of the lunar calendar. Granted, this was to reduce the Jewish influence on the religion, but it also made it easier for Me to celebrate Passover, and I really like Passover.)

So St. Nicholas Day ends up being a day where, instead of finding the nearest whore and offering to fund her marriage (sex work is work), you give money and presents to children. You can see the connection, yeah? Make sure kids have what they need growing up and they won't go hoing to make ends meet. Or have to be made into stew.

Meanwhile, we have this spirit over in the East called Ded Moroz, or Grandpa Frost. He's just, like, an old guy who freezes stuff. He'll take your kids if they wander out in the cold like you told the little bastards not to do.

And because of cultural drift, the duties of Ded Moroz get shifted over to Odin, another dude from the East. Originated somewhere between the steppes of Mongolia and Turkey, as far as anyone knows, finally made his way to Sweden and even the British Isles. Odin is now the Yulefather, the freezer of water and collector of the dead in the dying part of the year. Makes sense, because He's a wind god, since air is the element connected with Spirit at this time. (This is true for Hebrew and Latin, too! Pneuma and ru'ach.)

Well, the church doesn't like that Ded Moroz is a spooky guy who takes souls, decides he's a demon. But people like their Ded Moroz a lot. So now, instead of being a demon who takes souls, he's... Well, who do we have that's also from the East, Turkey specifically, and who is associated with giving or taking something, especially regarding children?

We have St. Nicholas! Who gives children presents instead of taking their souls, and coincidentally can calm the storm (of wind) that so often takes the souls of those lost outside in the cold. And his holiday is just under 20 days before Yule Xmas it's Christmas now. (Or, Yuletide. You know, whatever. Sheol is Hades now, who gives a shit.)

So it all gets kinda muddled up. Odin, St. Nick, Ded Moroz. Father Frost, Father Solstice, Father Christmas.

Well, I'm hanging out in the Holy Roman Empire, and I hear about this guy known as Sinterklaas. I think it's my old buddy and trusted employee Nicholas of Myra, who as far as I know has been buying, freeing, and funding the education and/or startups of slaves for as long as that's been possible. (He has six to eight African guys he ended up hiring on as assistants.) And I hear he's giving out not just coins and oranges, which prevent scurvy, but also toys and candy. And Nicholas of Myra is a good man, but he had zero sense of humor or fun and would never give a kid candy ("it rots your teeth, at least have an orange").

So I track down this Klaus, whom the kids also call Kris Kringle. I hear the kids have been doing all sorts of weird rituals to him, like the Spanish Yule log that shits candy, or the little pooping guy they hide in the Nativity scene (also Spanish, now that I think about it. What the fuck did the Inquisition do to people's brains over there?). And that he has a creepy BDSM goat called the Krampus for an assistant, who's in charge of dealing out the punishment to bad kids (that one's German and I thought it was just, like, the nation's id or something).

And he's smol. I mean, this guy is fucking Thumbelina sized. Roughly round, jolly as fuck, red fur trimmed in white, pointy toque beanie to match, and a miniature sleigh with eight tiny reindeer. Telltale pointed ears. Sparkling all over like they do.

Eight transmuted beings. Sleipnir (Dasher), Shiva and Baal Marquad (Dancer, Prancer), a kitsune (Vixen), a fallen star (Comet), Eros Himself (Cupid), and Thunder and Lightning -- Thor and Loki. Donner and Blitzen.

It's an entire Neil Gaiman novella of folks who've, I dunno, lost some kind of bet to him.

Okay. So he's one of The Neighbors. Gotta be careful.

I greet him like he's my old buddy Nicholas. I ask him how the soul collection is going and ask to see his inventory. He demurs, but I remind him that I'm his boss and they'll all come to Me eventually anyway. I just want to see if I think he ought to put any back. Oh, and can I just scan your company badge so I can establish that you made your check-in?

Well, I'm bluffing really hard, but he doesn't know that. He says he lost it. I tell him I'll wait with the souls until he gets back -- actually, whoa, looks like he's got a full load there. I'll take them in Myself.

That's when he laughs and says, "Well, Jesus, looks like You caught Me fair and square tonight. But how's about you and I make a deal? I'll spread Your Word and tell children to be good. And I will tell them to give to others all year round, because that's the spirit of Christmas. If they are good all year round, doing what their parents say, I will give them presents. If they are not good all year round -- which is to say, they don't do what their parents tell them to earn Christmas presents -- I will not give them presents. Fair?"

Note the wording carefully. Note where there's an and, and where there's not an and.

This works for a while. And then this song comes out.

Something seems wrong if kids are getting Santa presents according to the wealth of their parents, not their goodness over the year.

Then I find out that the primary metric by which Santa distributes presents is no longer behavior, but belief.

Not in Me.

In SANTA CLAUS.

I storm into his North Pole office yelling idolatry and he's got a fucking elven lawyer underlining shit. He didn't convert. He only promised to encourage charity. He didn't promise presents for charity, it's just for kids doing what their parents say they need to in order to get gifts, and right now that's belief in him.

I'm fucking steamed and he points out that I do exactly the same thing. Instead of doing good works or seeing the Divine in others regardless of social status or even fighting for equality here on Earth, Heaven has gotten twisted around to the point where believing in Me alone -- not what I stand for, which at this point can be nearly anything, but just the idea that I existed and did the Thing -- is considered sufficient acceptance criteria.

And I can't argue with that but I hate it. I hate that it's come to that. I hate what My section of Heaven looks like these days. I personally have been pleading for them to enact stringent, clearer, and above all objective metrics of entry, but I'm outnumbered in My own 5D connected consciousness in that opinion!!!

So. Fuck that guy. I'd literally rather you just worship Odin for Yule flat-out than fuck with Santa Claus, because at least He has solid advice for living and a comprehensive afterlife system.

I don't know what Santa Claus is doing with all that belief except get bigger, and it really scares Me.

#good omens rp #santa claus #christmas

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starseneyes · 2 years

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Romitri - Rose / Dimitri - Vampire Academy - Season 1 - Ep 7

Let’s have some fun talking about Rose, Dimitri, Romitri, and this show that has all of us rapt with attention—Vampire Academy.

If you’re new and want to catch up:

Episodes 1-5 Meta

Episode 6 Meta

SPOILER ALERT: This is a Meta. I will talk about the entire season even though we are focusing on episode 7. So if you haven’t watched (and don’t want to be spoiled), run far, far away from this. Remember, I haven’t read the books, so please feel free to educate me on book stuff in the comments!

Yes, I *thought* I was going to batch out 7-10, but this got so long that I decided to go ahead and post.

Ready? Let’s go!

Beyond the Wards

“Cheater!”

Rose and Dimitri are playing a fun game. When I first watched the scene, the music and the fear in Rose’s eyes didn’t mesh for me, and I was completely confused. Then, I realized it was a game (er... training exercise) and it all fell into place.

I love Dimitri’s “Oh, really” response. No words. Just those raised eyebrows as he folds his arms. He’s toying with her, and he’s loving every second of it.

“There’s no way you beat me here, and set up an ambush unless you scouted ahead of time.” “Recon is just basic perimeter control.”

Look at you calling back to Episode 1 and your first real conversation with some MAD flirting. Go ahead, Dimitri!

“We said we were going in blind.” “Suddenly Rose Hathaway is a believer in rules.”

I love this conversation. For all of his hiding away and maintaining control at all costs, he’s turning so many of his own things into flirtations in this conversation. They’ve flirted about rules one other time—in the church during the Benchmarks. It was hot, then, too.

“Or maybe you've been scouting out secret places to get me into.”

Or to get into you. I’m sorry, folks, but it was right there (yeah, it was). *ahem* Where was I...

Dimitri can’t deflect because that’s exactly what he’s been doing. And strangely enough, in the light of day they are far safer than in the blackest night due to Vampire timetables. You can SEE his tongue dancing behind his teeth as he looks at her, glad she caught up to his plan. They start the seduction dance, eyes meeting, lips parting, but Dimitri decides to skip ahead. There’s a smirk on his lips when he makes the move.

He wraps his arms around Rose, lifting her up. But this time, instead of lifting her into the air to dance, or into his arms to spin, he lifts her onto the banister in one smooth motion. A laugh escapes her, elation bubbling within. They both exhale as they take one another in, like the long exhale after so much heartache and hurt that signals the shedding of the past to embrace the arrival of the good.

This moment is too good to be true, too much a dream to be believed.

Poor darling doesn’t yet realize how much.

But in the moment, she is breathing in every second of Dimitri’s undivided attention. There’s a smile on his face—slight, but real. More than that, there’s an absolute peace and contentment in that moment between placing her down and devouring her. It’s brief, but it’s just as charged as their last kiss while simultaneously more intimate even though they’re in the wild.

He leans in for two, tongue-filled, savory kisses. Her hands wind around his neck, into his hair. This feels so right.

A new charge works through him, as though those first two kisses were only the appetizer for a more enticing entree that must be devoured without delay.

His hand reaches for her face, anxious to feel her, to bring her closer to him, to embrace every second of the experience. Her hand slips into his hair, gripping it as their lips collide. Because, this isn’t a sweet peck—this is the wild attraction of two people who’ve met their soulmate—the one person who can bring them to life in ways they never anticipated.

Think about it. Damphir life isn’t about love. Yes, we’ve seen Damphirs sleeping together. We know that Morois sleep with Damphirs to create more Damphirs. But love isn’t really a big thing in Damphir life.

Heck, it’s not a big thing in Moroi life, either. Remember, Lissa said that most Royal marriages aren’t about love... that there are few exceptions.

So, both Rose and Dimitri have likely accepted a life with sex but without love. That was before they met each other.

He kisses her with renewed passion that surges out from within him like a plasma charge. Her neck calls to him, too far away and he moves his lips to it. Her mouth parts, wider than usual, consumed with thoughts of where else she’d like him to put that mouth.

In this moment, neither one of them is thinking about Strigoi, Moroi, or their duty as Damphir Guardians. Instead, they’re reveling in the experience of adoring one another in the safety of the sun.

Until Lissa calls Rose’s name.

Rose’s eyes fly open, but Dimitri’s reaction is only a fraction behind hers. It’s sobering, that’s for sure. He’s dashing out of sight, but Rose feels the need to give him an extra push. Neither one of them is up for getting caught at the moment. Little tip, Rose? Don’t look back over at the man you’re trying to conceal!

And Rose just sits up there all prim and pretty like she somehow got herself up there... for no reason.

And Lissa doesn’t even think to question it.

Rose chokes out an “uh-huh” because she’s still completely out of breath from Dimitri’s exploration of her neck. As she hops down from the ledge to join Lissa, Dimitri exhales. That was f*cking close.

“Speaking of which, Lissa, you told me I would have my own Guardian.” “I know I’m late.” “Well, hello, little Damphir.”

Ah, yes, the beginning of the Jealous Dimitri era.

When Rose comes in, she takes a second to appreciate Dimitri in his trademark duster. It’s been a bit since she’s seen him in it. Her eyes barely even note Adrian Ivashkov. But Adrian is definitely noting Rose. He drinks her in and makes his mark.

But Rose merely raises her eyebrows in surprise while Dimitri’s face literally oozes, For fuck’s sake.

“I’m driving.” “I am in your hands.”

The minute Rose asserts she’s driving, she’s got Dimitri’s attention. He’s driven her in Caroni, and not once did she ask to drive or demonstrate that she could. Then, of course, Adrian has to shoot his shot with Rose, again. Dimitri reacts a little less to this one, but he’s still frustrated beyond frustrated.

Rose steps down a little further, settling on the step above Dimitri, putting them at a very comfortable height difference. In episode 6, it was Dimitri standing behind her with one foot on the step, allowing him to lean down. This time, she’s standing too close right behind him.

“Have you ever driven a car before?”

Rose doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Dimitri reaches to take the keys from her, and she doesn’t immediately let go. A low hum emanates from his throat as he looks back at her, and the look screams, honey... give me the keys. It’s so domestic I could scream with glee.

“Guess I’m in your hands.”

His eyes cut back to her, and it’s so clear she’s twisting Adrian’s words purposefully. Not only to pass on the keys, the flirt, but also to make her point—at this point Adrian doesn’t have a chance.

I understand from book fans that Rose and Adrian become a thing. But in this moment, she doesn’t remotely see Adrian as an option. And she’s trying to let Dimitri know it.

Rose skips away from him, and since I haven’t read the books, I don’t know if that’s a part of the character, or a subtle callback to the Vampire Academy movie (or neither... it could be neither). But Dimitri watches her go. He takes a moment to wish he wasn’t caught up in this ridiculous breach of protocol, then sighs and decides to get it over with.

“Make a night to regret...”

The first line of this song makes me crack up. It’s perfect. I love the music choices in this show (and the beautiful theme they created for Rose & Dimitri), and this is another that is totally on point.

“Now, Rose, just so you know when I start making inappropriate cameos in your dreams, just know that’s not Spirit Magic, alright? That’s just your intense attraction to me.”

Dimitri shakes his head, wishing he could stake this guy... just a little. Rose looks over to Dimitri, keeping her focus on him.

“So, have you ever healed anyone?” “Heal... you can heal?”

Dimitri looks over to Rose on this one. He’s been listening to the two of them talk about some weird things, but this one is the weirdest, by far.

We don’t know it, yet, but Dimitri leans hard into his religion and his code. He needs the structure, and he needs the parameters. We’ll get into that later. But what he’s listening to is unlike anything he’s ever heard before. He glances over to Rose again.

“So, maybe I should explain.”

The way she cocks her head to the side and her voice shifts up at the end reminds me a lot of “Can we be done with wind sprints?” It’s lacking the smile, but it has the same attitude.

And poor Dimitri’s frustration with the situation only grows when he realizes they’re off to see a Heretic. Not only is this whole little mission woefully unprepared for the perils of Strigoi attack, and lacking all the line-of-sight security he’d prefer (not to mention they’re off-grid because of Adrian’s power to get them into the Human World)... but now they get to go talk to someone who has basically been excommunicated. As Rose would say, goody.

Then, Rose spots the Human World out her window, and she and Lissa stare out the windows in wonder. Remember, Lissa and Rose’s whole plan when Lissa graduates is to go see the world... to travel in the Human World and get out of the Dominion to have a completely different life. Lissa wants to look at art, and Rose wants to protect her best friend while accompanying her on adventures.

Rose places her hand on the window, the dream seemingly more within reach than ever. She’s never seen the Human World, and she longs to touch it, to really experience it. A chuckle bursts out of her, the pure elation casting a joyful glow on her features. Rose Hathaway is in her element, even as Dimitri is being pulled further and further from his.

“Do we look human now?”

Lissa is the first to pop out of the shop wearing her new outfit, so Dimitri is already fully turned when Rose pops out alongside Lissa. And the giggling these girls are doing reminds me so much of the first episode when they were dancing together in merriment. Lissa and Rose are relaxed, and their outfits reflect it. Rose’s hair, usually tied back while on the job is styled and framing her face.

And she’s BEAMING.

Let me tell you, when someone is happy, everything in them shifts. And people around them can feel the joy emanating from them. Dimitri takes Rose in, the way her smile lights up her features, the way her hair frames her face, the way her clothes fit her body.

This time it’s Dimitri whose mouth drops open. Wow.

Rose catches the attention, and she revels in it. She loves the way he looks at her—a look reserved just for her. And she knows it.

Lissa looks from Dimitri, back to Rose, then over to Adrian. You seeing this, too? Adrian takes a quick look, and that’s all he can stand. He breaks the moment expeditiously.

“Who wants to go clubbing?”

He’s such a smug little sh*t.

The club is hopping and Rose and Lissa are reveling in it. Rose even gets a dance in with a girl on the dance floor before Adrian pulls Rose to him, hoping for a dance himself.

That breaks Dimitri’s focus on his desperate attempts to establish perimeter control. He strides over in full protective boyfriend mode.

Adrian looks at him, mock-quizzical. What? Am I doing something you don’t like?

Dimitri holds Adrian’s gaze the whole walk. You know exactly what you’re doing, you little shit.

Come on, we were all thinking that’s what’s going through his mind.

And Dimitri shoves a Royal Moroi. Like, this is a big deal if it was anyone else. He shoves Adrian, and pulls Rose away. Yes, he does want her to focus on the task at hand, but he also did not like someone else dancing with his girl.

Her face when he pulls her away is, oooh, my boyfriend didn’t like that! And as much as I love that, you can feel just how frustrated Dimitri is about every little thing.

“Focus, Rose. This is a protective nightmare.” “I got it, Mr. Perimeter Control.” “Really? How many entry and exit points? Yeah, I don’t know, either. You’ve got 360 degree exposure on our two charges, with only two of us to cover.”

Look, you might think of Dimitri as a buzzkill, but he’s right. This is a sh*t show in terms of protective detail.

“I’m aware, but we’re good.” “We could be walking through a Strigoi buffet line.” “I’ll know if there are Strigoi.”

And there you have it... Yes, Rose is absolutely charmed by the human world. But she also has a good handle on her unexpected super power. She knows that if things really go to sh*t, she’ll be the first to know.

Dimitri still doesn’t like it, but he stops lecturing her. It is a good point.

“Muscle stays out here, Ivashkov. You know that.”

Of course, he did. But he wasn’t about to tell “uptight, righteous” Dimitri about that one. Adrian looks right to Dimitri, who is glaring like he wants to murder Adrian slowly with a stake. Dimitri’s arms are crossed, and he’s furious. But, there’s nothing to help it.

“Hey, uh, Rose, try not to get too bored without me, alright?”

And the way he points right at Dimitri, and Dimitri knows exactly what Adrian is trying at. Rose lets that roll off of her, but she really does want to have some fun.

“Want to do a shot? Joking... ish.”

I love that look he gives her. Like, Are you seriously asking me that?

And it’s not that Dimitri doesn’t like a drink... but he’s on the job. And that’s not the time for screwing around.

“This isn’t our world.” “No, this is fun.”

I love how she’s trying to dance with him, but he’s just standing there, like an immovable rock. She offers him a pouty face, obviously referring to him. But, he’s not wired for this. Yes, he could do the choreographed dance with the other Damphir within the rules of their world and rules of the dance. Everything there was scripted and practiced.

Freestyle dancing at a human bar while their Charges share drinks behind a wall they cannot answer is not Dimitri’s speed.

“You’re so awkward.” “I’m doing my job.” “Or maybe you don’t know what to do with yourself when you’re actually kind of free. No Moroi. No Damphirs. None of your rules. Just the music. And us.”

Yes, I left off the end of what she said. Honestly, it’s because it feels like a network note to me where they said, “What if the audience doesn’t realize she wants him to dance with her?”

It’s a club. She’s been dancing in front of him for a good while, now. I think we can understand she wants him to dance with her and not peg her right there on the dance floor in front of a bunch of humans.

But, she’s hit the nail on the head. Dimitri does well with rules. In an unstructured setting, even a dance is a lot to ask of him.

But Rose is going to try.

Though he rolls his eyes, as soon as she gets her hands on him, his thought process starts to short circuit. She places her hands on his chest, but it’s not like the first time they danced, where it was her job to set them there before a lift. No, this time her hands are trailing up and down his chest as she dances close to him.

He tries to keep his head up, to look around him and be aware of his surroundings. But he finds himself looking down at her wandering fingers. He licks his lips as he looks at hers. Yeah, he’s screwed.

His hands find their way to her waist, and oh, it feels so good to have them there. It’s too much, his hand lowers to below her waist, to her upper thigh, within reach of her *ss.

And Dimitri gives in. He presses his face into hers, his body into hers, and he starts to sway. Rose lights up, smiling widely in victory, a soundless laugh escaping.

He tries to look up, to convince himself that he’s still in control of this situation. But Rose draws him back to her, winding her hands down his chest, then across his arms until their hands meet.

Their fingers intertwine, and the rest of the world melts away. Dimitri’s eyes are solely on her... on the woman who broke through every rule and defense he’d constructed to wind her way into his heart.

She’s drawing him out, here. Out of his shell. Out of his structure. Out of his rule book.

And instead of finding all the things he feared, he finds Rose. He finds this moment. And like their first kiss, he’s finally done fighting. This is their moment on the dance floor, despite being surrounded by a room of strangers living their own moments.

This is ultimate freedom. Nobody knows them or cares that they are together. Before, they were sneaking around in the bright of day, the safest time to avoid detection. Here, nobody cares what they do. They don’t have to hide. They can embrace the moment without any worry.

That, my friends, is true freedom.

Dimitri spins her, and it’s so cute. She laughs as he does, because he can’t help sneaking in a little bit of structure to their dance. It’s an older dance move, one that fills high society films set in the Victorian era. But, it’s perfect. It’s the perfect melding of Dimitri and Rose.

When he pulls her back to him, they both break into wide grins. It’s the most earnest smile we’ve ever seen from Dimitri. He’s reveling in this moment with her, living in a way he never thought possible.

And while I posit it might have been a break from Kieron Moore more than it was originally Dimitri, the fact that they included it in the final cut of the episode makes it cannon.

Dimitri Belikov has never been so happy as he is with Rose Hathaway. And, she has never been so happy as she is with him.

They continue to dance as Adrian and Lissa emerge from the back room. Adrian looks confused and frustrated at the sight. He really expected to walk out and see Rose perturbed by Dimitri, and Dimitri frustrated with Rose, immovable and stoic. He didn’t expect to see them grinding on the dance floor. And Lissa finally understands the looks passed between the Damphir when Rose unveiled her new outfit. Wow.

But the party is cut short by Rose doubling over in pain as she breathes, “Fuck”. Dimitri catches her hand as she goes down.

“Which is it?”

Rose looks to Dimitri, and she’s ready to deflect, because she doesn’t know what the hell this is, truly. It’s her nature to not talk about what’s going on. But Dimitri’s observant, and he’s been waiting for the right time to ask about this. Now is the time, when they have two charges to protect.

“It is Strigoi or Lissa? I’ve seen this enough times, Rose. At home. At Caroni. You feel things coming. Which is it?” “Strigoi.”

She initially tried to deflect, but she’s in it, now. So, she tells him the truth. Now, we can say that she obviously would have tried to deflect had he not been able to catalogue his observance of this occurrence (though I’m racking my brain for him seeing it back home). She tells him the truth.

This is a big secret... that she’s tied to Lissa... that she can feel Strigoi coming. But, she’s let him in. And as much as she draws him out, he also draws her out.

They’re very like-minded while attacking life from opposite ends of philosophy. They are both so stubborn, and they both lock others out in their own ways. But the closer they get to one another, the more they let one another in, and the more they seal their fates as destined to love one another.

Yes, I know there are bumps and obstacles to come. It’s only episode 7 of this show, and we’re hoping for at least one more season. But... this episode binds them together more than anything else that has transpired. It’s not all stolen kisses and mutual pining. There’s also an honesty that they bring out in one another that is essential to a thriving relationship. They don’t lie to one another... even when it hurts.

But, right now, they are completely focused on getting their Charges out of there.

“What the hell was that back there? Not the Strigoi.”

At first, Rose plays it off, just like she tried to when Dimitri asked her if it was Strigoi or Lissa. Rose’s default is to deflect.

But her best friend is just as observant as her boyfriend at this point, and with a quick look from Dimitri’s chair back to Rose, Rose knows she’s caught. Rose still tries to play it off. But Lissa’s ahead of the game, this time.

“Took you long enough. I like it.”

Rose’s surprise is quickly replaced by a grin. Her best friend approves of her man. But... she’s not going to let the spotlight stay on her. She quickly shifts back to the task at hand... which puts them on a boat ride.

The Boat Scene.

This is my favorite Romitri scene thus far. Yes, I love their stolen kisses. Yes, I love their charged moments. Yes, I love their mutual pining. Yes, I love their dances.

But this is another point of no return for these two. This scene is everything neither of them ever thought they would have... honesty... transparency... trust... It’s a relationship built on layers and layers of those three things.

And the more they open up to one another, the more they blend beginnings and ends.

When this story started, Dimitri and Rose were at polar opposites of a power struggle. Now, they’re literally working on a covert mission together, following enough of Dimitri’s rules to protect their Charges, while following enough of Rose’s verve for life to actually enjoy themselves. They’re both more blended with bits of one another than they realize or would like to admit.

Rose hesitates at the door to the second level of the boat. She’s watching him... watching the water.

Have you ever been in love? My husband and I have been together 19 years, and one of my favorite things is to watch him when he doesn’t know it. I love to see his face light up in surprise and glee. I love to see him awash with contentment. I love to watch him when he sleeps.

You’d think that would go away after all these years, but it never has. And it started when we were first falling in love.

Dimitri’s hands rest on the railing. Already, he’s not in a defensive position. His arms aren’t crossed. His hands aren’t in his pockets. He’s in an open position, his body language indicating where he is at this moment.

In a strange way, Rose’s supernatural abilities are affording him the opportunity to relax. He knows the Strigoi aren’t on the boat. He knows that Lissa is safe. He can keep watch from up here while still embracing the crisp breeze of the air and the sound of the water lapping against the boat as it motors through.

Rose watches Dimitri a moment before crossing onto the second floor.

He hears her before she reaches him, and his features are more relaxed than I can remember. He offers her a small smile before she can speak. He’s looking upon the woman who has captured his heart, and for the first time in a long time... he has a sense of peace.

Side Note: I grew up in a verbally and emotionally abusive home. I know I have a temper, and I have to work on it constantly because I refuse to let my children grow up the way I did. But that fear is always there. And, trust me, when you live a life ruled by fear... it’s hard to find peace.

But right now, on this boat in the Human World, Dimitri Belikov has found a pocket of peace.

“They’re down there, brainstorming questions for their heretic.”

Dimitri smiles, again. Earlier, he was incensed at the word. It slides off him easily, now.

“It’s the nerdiest I’ve ever seen her.”

Dimitri looks over at her, the smile still on his lips, but he notes her shiver. Ordinarily in the movies, the man takes off his coat so he can freeze while the woman tries to warm up. My husband and I have a different take on it... Matthew takes my hand, and places it in his own pocket with his hand to warm me up. It’s far more effective.

Looks like Dimitri thinks like Matthew, because rather than offering to remove his coat, he offers to let Rose in. He opens the left side of it, and she scooches in, adhering to his side, soaking in his warmth. He rubs her back through the coat, such a small, but meaningful gesture. It’s intimate. It’s comfortable. It’s domestic.

It’s such a far cry from their Guardian life.

“Do you ever think about another life? Being more than just a pawn they can rip from your home or throw Strigoi at for fun? A life outside the Dominion? While we were dancing, you wanted that freedom, too.”

This whole conversation, I hear poor Mason in my head, “You never ask!” And I honestly feel that’s because Rose doesn’t love Mason, and never can love him the way she will love Dimitri. I don’t think Rose meant it personally, but she’s never considered having a real relationship because that was never her focus. Her focus has always been Lissa. And while she cares about Mason, she never loved him.

Dimitri is a complete surprise... something she never saw coming. Her path was always so set and clear. Even after he appeared and got in her way to Lissa, she believed she would best him to get what she wanted.

This wasn’t a part of the plan. But this moment, right here, shows how deep she is. She wants to know his thoughts. She wants to see where his head is. She wants to know if they’re on the same page, because being on the same page would put them facing the same direction, and her path is suddenly shifting in her mind, whether she realizes it or not.

Dimitri considers her words as a new shiver runs through her. They shift so she can stand in front of him, now fully enveloped in his jacket.

He’s pulling her in as she’s drawing him out.

And Dimitri tells a story you know he’s never told before. He tells the story of the Royal who fathered him, the time he beat the beater, and the fear from his sisters and mother... and his own.

Rose soaks in his story, heart aching for him and everything he endured. She looks to him as he finishes.

“I remember the fear... not just his. But also the fear in the eyes of my mother, my sisters, and the fear I felt of that thing in me.”

He smiles on this, not the smile of joy, but that same smile of pain he smiled when he told Rose about his best friend, Alexei. It’s the smile of sadness that breaks through so sobs don’t consume you.

Side Note: Kieron’s just doing so marvelous with this. This scene is so gut-wrenching, and Sisi supports him so effortlessly. Truly, these two performers have incredible chemistry, but can also stand on their own, which is marvelous. It’s such a joy to watch. Anyway...

“It’s why I need the code of the Guardian life to keep that thing in check.”

He points to his heart... as though it’s his heart that is poisoned, as though this darkness is always dwelling there, lurking, waiting for an opportunity to emerge.

It’s so similar to the Spirit Darkness in Rose that it aches to watch these two speak on this and not realize how similar they are... how much they’re both up against. Because Dimitri found out that day when he was 13 that he was capable of much violence... just like his Father.

That is what terrifies him, so. That he could lose control and take out his anger on someone innocent. No, his Father wasn’t innocent and absolutely deserved what he got for what he did to scare him off. But, Dimitri has to live with that moment for the rest of his life—to remember how the people he loved most looked upon him with fear that he was just like his Father.

He sees it when he closes his eyes. He sees it when he’s scared, himself. He sees it when he steps outside the lines even the slightest bit. Because staying inside the rigidity of the code is all he knows to keep whatever darkness lurks within him at bay.

And it’s such a difficult way of living because he’s not really facing it, and not really dealing with it. He’s bottling it up. But that’s the Damphir way, right? 1 in 3 will fall in the line of duty. “Old age” isn’t really an option. Adhering to the rigidity of the code is the only way through.

But Rose challenges all that.

Maybe there is another way.

“Freedom. Freedom scares me to death, Rose. Or it did until...” “Until now?”

And there they are again... her drawing him out... and then him pulling her in.

Rose and Dimitri kiss... their most important kiss, yet. Why? Because this kiss isn’t fueled by passion. It’s not driven by lust. It’s not the culmination of wanting and yearning.

This kiss is love. It’s comfort. It’s understanding. It’s home.

Rose finally got her answer... they are on the same page. He’s looking at life differently, just as she is. The paths they’d assumed before and challenged by what they have now, by what they share.

When they kiss one another, it’s slow, purposeful, personal. It’s controlled, yet powerful. The perfect blend of Rose and Dimitri.

And their song plays... the song that played when he carried her home from the bar... the one that played during their scene outside the bar when she asked him to train her and first coaxed several smiles out of him... the song that played when he was in the Novice barracks confessing to being distracted by her. It’s that same song, but more intimate... and starts with a different instrument playing the notes of their theme.

It starts an octave lower, and with such resonance that it pulls us into the moment with them, its depth and intimacy.

Dimitri pulls her back into his coat, and he briefly nuzzles his chin near her neck before settling with it against her head. She smiles as he gets settled, relaxing against him, settling into his arms, his coat wrapped tight around her. They look out at the horizon together, and for the first time there are a plethora of possibilities awaiting them.

At least, that’s what they think.

Look, I’m here for happy, content, loving Romitri as much as the rest of you! But, we all know there has to be some angst before they can ride off into the sunset. But, for this brief moment, our ship is really sailing.

Yes, I just did that. Yes, I know it’s Dad-joke level. You should hear the jokes of the man I live with, and then you’d know where it comes from!

“Okay. I think I need to know what’s happening here.” “What do you want to know?” “All of it.”

The floodgates of honesty have been opened. After everything Dimitri just shared with her, Rose has made a decision to be completely honest with him.

This. Is. Huge.

We already established in the first batch of Metas I put out (Episodes 1-5) that Rose deflects from the truth. She tells Lissa she’s fine. She deflects with Mason. But with Dimitri she tells more of the truth than she does anyone else.

But there’s still been things she’s lied about... All of this, specifically. When Dimitri asked why she fought like a Strigoi, she didn’t tell him something was up with him. She hasn’t told him about Lissa’s ability to heal, about her trips with Christian to get information from Libraries and places where she shouldn’t be. She hasn’t let him in on all of that.

But in this moment, he’s willing to hear whatever she has to say, and she’s willing to tell him whatever he need to know.

And he’s asking for it.

It would be easier for him to stay blind, to not ask questions, to not get involved. Just from listening in the car, some part of him must understand that whatever is happening here could unravel his very beliefs. They are going to see a heretic, after all. But he wants to know. He’s asking for it. This is so huge for him. So huge for them both.

“They actually believe all of this? A Fifth Element?”

Okay, I’ll be honest, folks, I burst out laughing at this. It’s not a funny line, but I’m a mother and a child of the 80′s/90′s. So, I grew up on the film “Fifth Element” and I have children who are obsessed with “Frozen 2″ which is all about a Fifth Element. So, I had to go back and forth between Lissa being set between four stones to deflect a meteor and Lissa freezing a wall of water to save her town in my head. It was quite comical.

“Secret magic that Vladimir and the entire Dominion has kept secret for centuries?” “Or they just edited it out of the whole story after they burned a bunch of people alive. That’s what they do, lie and kill. So why not?” “Because... it goes against the whole holy Elemental Order. The four-part harmony of the world.”

Dimitri is spiraling. Remember, he affixes strongly to code and to religion. Now, I don’t want to turn this into a debate about religion. But, for Dimitri his blind faith is what helps him get through the day. He doesn’t question what he’s told in church, and he doesn’t question what he’s told by his superiors (until Rose).

“I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

He’s so frustrated, thinking that somehow it’s his fault, that he is responsible for this corruption of two Royal Moroi. No, honey. You need to get rid of some of that self-loathing that leads you to think too much that the world is your responsibility and that you are solely responsible for it. It’s unhealthy.

But, there’s no time to see what happens next, because Rose’s Fuck Alarm is going off. Strigoi.

Their Charges and the Heretic secure, Rose and Dimitri square off with the entry point. They move in synchronicity, achieved through countless hours of training and working together. But watch the head turn to check on their Charges... That was instinct. They both have that strong drive to protect their Charges above all else.

Then, they spot one another. They nod to each other, just like when they faced off against Strigoi Mikhail. Much as this sucks, they are ready to do this together.

But they aren’t ready for what happens next.

Dimitri and Rose fight together, both holding their own, as expected. Rose actually stakes her second Strigoi in the battle.

Two Strigoi burst in the front door as a third breaks through the bathroom window. Lissa cries out for Rose as she and Adrian cower.

Rose and Dimitri look to one another, considering, worrying, wondering. It’s only a second. It’s so brief. And when he nods for her to go, she takes off in a flash.

But that was one second too long... and they both already know it.

Rose tries to get her dagger into the Strigoi, but she remembers this kid. This was the kid from outside, the one she briefly played soccer/football with. The Heretic uses her fire power (with the aid of a lighter) to scorch the Strigoi.

Rose looks back to Dimitri, and they connect eyes. They’re safe.

But the Heretic’s words singe them.

“Never hesitate.”

Dimitri looks down in shame, his jawbones working overtime as he absorbs everything that just happened.

It doesn’t help that he was already raw from everything Rose shared, that he was already frustrated and concerned for stepping outside the lines of the order to which he so desperately clings.

“I saw him. He followed us here from the club.” “They had a human smorgasbord in there. What would we matter to them?”

Something in our dear Rose and/or Lissa is drawing them out, I fear. After all, the Strigoi was paying special attention to Rose at the Club, right?

I have to imagine the ride back to the Dominion was awkward for Dimitri and Rose... but she knows where his head is. She knows him well enough to understand that, by now.

Rose and Dimitri break up.

And that’s part of what is so heartbreaking about this scene... about their breakup... about their end. Because, they both see it coming. They both know what’s happening. It’s not a surprise to either of them. But it doesn’t hurt any less.

He’s working out in the open, but he’s also in shade. The glorious sun that bathed both of them before is still there, but he’s not in it. He’s using a bench to work out and stretch.

When she approaches, the focus is on his Molnija marks on the back of his neck... his order... his duty.

He sees her coming, but he can’t even look up to face her. She knows why. She can feel it.

“It was just a moment. We hesitated for one tiny moment.”

He finally looks up to her. She is pleading with him on that last word, begging him to not do what she thinks he’s going to do. She wants to hold onto the fairy tale a little longer.

But Dimitri has bottled himself up, already. He’s pulled away. He’s clinging harder than ever to the rules that make his life make sense.

“There’s no room for divided loyalties in this world, Rose.”

Her mouth closes. His decision has been made. She can see it. And there’s no way for her to get him to change his mind. There’s no way to draw him out this time. There’s nothing she can say or do. He’s as stubborn as she is when he wants to be.

“There can never be a question of you or them, me or your charge.”

He’s admitting right there that it was both of them. Remember, Dimitri thinks it’s important to own up to your mistakes. His problem is that he goes too far in the opposite direction to try to shield himself. And right now, that’s placing a high and hard-to-scale wall between himself and Rose.

“There can be no hesitation.” “Of course not!”

He lowers his eyes. He looks away. He doesn’t need to say anymore. He can feel it.

Oh, how these two know one another so well without knowing their own hearts whatsoever... at least not enough to listen to them.

“It’s a fucking dream.”

There it is. Love is a dream. Happiness is a dream. Having the luxury of choosing to save the person you love is a dream. Because they can never put each other or themselves first. That’s not the structure of the world within which they live.

And much as Rose bucks against the system, she is aware that she has to live within the system so long as it is in place. Lissa makes it worth that... but for a brief moment she dreamt she really could have more. That her mother was wrong. That Dimitri betting on her was absolutely right in more way than one.

But that moment has passed... and they both know it.

Dimitri can’t look at her. He looks down, but Rose lowers herself closer so they’re at eye level. She places her hands on the bench between his, aching for the time when she was within his arms and duster on the boat... for that brief span of time when the impossible seemed possible.

“But you felt it, right? What we could be?”

Rose needs to know, again, that they were on the same page. On the boat, she swore they were. She believed they were. And even if she’s going to lose it, she needs to know that it was real. That she is capable of loving and being loved. She needs to know it’s possible.

Dimitri finally meets her eyes, tears in his as he breathes out.

“Every second of it.”

And that smile, the same burdened, heartbroken smile slips through his lips. It’s his default when he thinks of loss... Loss of his best friend. Loss of his family’s trust. Loss of his love.

“But never again.”

He can’t stand to be near her. It hurts too much, and to see her in pain is too much for him to bear. He wants nothing more than to wipe away her tears, to pull her into his arms, to comfort her and love her. But, he saw what happened when he stepped outside of the lines. In his mind, he committed one of the ultimate sins. Damphirs are always told, “They come first” when it comes to the Moroi. He has adhered to this code since childhood, and he violated it.

In his mind, he deserves punishment. He deserves to be separated from Rose. And much as he knows it hurts her, too, he at least knows she understands why. That’s why he let up when she burst out with, “Of course not”. He knows that she understands why he is doing this.

Even if doing this won’t solve a d*mn thing.

As Dimitri runs away, their song starts, again. But this time... it’s a lone violin. One sad, lonely violin playing the song that once echoed through their hearts with explosive energy. Now, it plays like a death march to the shriveling of Rose’s heart as she fights to hold back tears.

Those of us who watched the episode know it ends with Lissa tearing out her heart, as well. Both Lissa and Dimitri think they’re doing the right thing by Rose, but Rose and Dimitri at least have common ground. They’re both Damphir. They know that Moroi come first.

With Lissa and Rose, it’s a completely different dynamic, and this is her best friend. So, I expect the breakdown over Lissa and not Dimitri. This relationship is her ride or die, her make or break, her one person. Rose had always accepted that her life would be dedicated to protecting Lissa, and she was okay with that because she knew Lissa loved her as much as a Moroi can love a Damphir... as family.

Next episode? Violence, heartbreak, and agony, I predict. We shall see.

As always, thanks for reading! And stay tuned, Vampire Academy fans!

#Romitri #Vampire Academy #Vampire Academy Peacock #Sisi Stringer #Kieron Moore #Dimitri Belikov #Rose x Dimitri #Dimitri x Rose #Meta #Rose Hathaway

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ownedbythescribe · 1 year

Text

Kaeya A. | Frosted Wishes

ıllı Synopsis: For a sinner like you, was there really a chance to change? A hope for tomorrow where you can taste freedom? You can only ruefully laugh at the face of fate who tempted you into the light.

ıllı Genre: Angst, Romance

ıllı Warnings: Sexual Content, Gore (Please do not proceed if you are a minor, dislike bloodshed and disturbing content, and squeamish of the concept)

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Inspiration: Luck Life - Shirushi

ıllı A/N: I just binge-watched Bungo Stray Dogs Season 4, and this idea came to me! I might have enjoyed writing this too much.

Bruised bodies, severed hands, decaying flesh, and the metallic scent of blood flooded the icy room. And just a few blocks from the room, the blood-curdling scream of tortured people could be heard, along with the desperate banging on the walls as they tried to escape from the Doctor. It was a gruesome, horrifying, and despicable memory that you desperately buried at the back of your mind. Yet, no matter how much you prayed to the gods, it was still there. It was the past you could never let go.

“Stop! No more... I-I beg you. Just one night.” You begged, clutching your hair as tears poured out. Exhaustion was evident under your eyes, and the scene before you whispered thoughts that broke your will day by day.

"Did you really think that by escaping Snezhnaya, you'll be absolved of your sins?" Dottore asked, trotting towards your writhing figure. You looked up at him only to see his sinister smile.

"You can never run away, (Y/N)." He threatened. You glanced at your hands stained in blood, the light in your eyes vanishing.

Was the Doctor right?

Was this your fate?

"Enough!" The dream ended abruptly, and as you opened your eyes, the bright field of Starsnatch Cliff greeted you. A breeze blew past you and tousled your hair. Unconsciously reaching out, a tear trailed down your cheeks and landed on the figure on your lap. He woke up and noticed the tranced look on your face.

"(Y/N)?" Kaeya called. You hummed in question, blinking the tears before giving him a closed-eye smile. He held your face and wiped the tears in your eyes. It warmed your heart, causing you to hold his hand closer to you.

"Thank you. I just had a bad dream. Is it already time for you to go back to work?" You asked in a melancholic tone. He rose from his position and nodded. He would rather use the rest of his afternoon to rest with you if he had the choice, but Jean might chase him down for dereliction.

Dusting your clothes, you inhaled the crip air and sighed. There was no need to think of that dream just yet. The people you escaped with were safe and living the best of their lives, far from the clutches of the Fatui. The Doctor would not consider taking them back unless they were beneficial like the green-haired girl from Sumeru. If the Doctor were to order his subordinate, the most likely target would be the traitors.

‘Like me.’ You grimly thought. However, you will be ready by then. There was no way you would easily throw away the path you chose, the life you decided to grip with your own hands.

Kaeya noticed the look on your face and wished to ask what was on your mind, but he opted not to. If there were something you would like to say, he would wait for you to tell him. Instead, he walked toward you and held your hand for a kiss. The sudden affection flustered you, but he merely smiled. With a sigh, you leaned forward and placed your lips on his. You could taste the wine he had earlier, and you could not help but deepen the kiss. The Cavalry Captain smirked and snaked his hands around you.

“Getting greedy, aren’t we?” He teased. You licked your lips and gave him an innocent look.

“You tasted sweet. Sorry, was that too much?” You asked. He shook his head no and lightly bit your neck. You winced at the pain, but he assured you you could have him after work tonight.

Once Kaeya was gone, you sauntered toward the church. The stained glass decorating the building reminded you of Snezhnaya. The power of the deity could be felt as you moved forward. It was not frigid but warm, like Barbatos was still looking after his people. You internally sneered at how the Cryo Archon should be.

‘Whatever her reasons might be, it was hers alone. I shouldn’t judge her for that.’ You ruefully thought, kneeling on the pew to pray to Barbatos.

‘Barbatos, I am not a loyal servant, but I ask of you. Please protect those people I saved. Let the new lives they have in their hands flourish. May the past never hunt them. Take care of them like how you guided your people.’ You were not a saint, nor would you love to be one. You thought it was better to pray for their bright future than yours as you have grasped everything you want in life already. Well, maybe not all, since you want to get married to the love of your life.

After praying, you held your offerings to the nun and left. You did not expect to meet Rosaria outside, but it looked like she had been waiting to talk with you. She scoffed and signaled you to follow her to the back of the church. You nodded.

“Snezhnaya Overseer, Decay of Angels, does that ring a bell?” Rosaria asked, her magenta gaze boring deep into your own. You closed your eyes with a sigh before glancing at the cemetery beside you. This place was a resting place for kind and brave souls.

“You must have a vast network for that name to reach your ears. That title and name only stayed in Snezhnaya because nobody could escape alive to tell the tale.” You muttered. There were two possible reasons. They could be getting rusty, or they chose to reveal themselves. It would act as a threat to those who escaped. You smiled in amusement, eyes devoid of light.

“It couldn’t be because they were rusty. They must have chosen to unveil the mystery around the executioners in Snezhnaya. I’m surprised the Doctor let them go rampant.” You mused. Rosaria narrowed her eyes at your words. Noticing her shield up, you decided to reveal your past to her.

With each word from your lips, Rosaria could not help but shudder. She was not squeamish about the blood, but the thought of a harbinger utilizing humans for experiment with no remorse was diabolical. You understood that after explaining everything, she might sell you to the Knights of Favonius. Snezhnaya had little hold on a traitor like you, but they might come and trade to bring the punishment themselves.

‘Definitely the worst case scenario.’ You thought.

“A new life in Mondstadt? What happened to those you saved? How can you assure that you or them will not bring trouble to the peace Mondstadt had maintained for years?” She demanded.

“They live far from Snezhnaya. I asked someone to protect their identities, and some of them chose to change their looks. As for me, when the time comes, I will deal with them. It’s the least I could do for Mond and its archon granting me refuge.” You vowed. The nun heaved out a sigh and then walked out. Kaeya would hear of this soon enough if he had not heard of it before. You might incur his wrath in the process, but if it were within your calculations and resulted in the best outcome, you would welcome it.

Night fell, and Kaeya came as he promised. The dinner was simple as he talked about his work and how everybody was excited about the Windblume Festival. You reminisced about the first time you witnessed the event. Mondstadt was decorated with varieties of flowers present in the region. You brought pink and red lilies during the ceremony, their meanings fitting the festival’s concept.

“Your bouquet was exquisite, and many envied the person you would give those to. I could still remember their heartbroken looks when you placed it below the Barbatos’ statue and offered no other flowers to others.” Kaeya chuckled. You sheepishly smiled at the memory because, back then, you thought it was just a day to offer flowers to the Anemo Archon, nothing more.

“Hmm, but I also remember you grabbing a Cecilia and putting it on me. Aren’t you a charming one, Captain Kaeya?” You teased. Kaeya smirked and pulled you onto his lap. Startled, you flushed at his coquettish gaze. His right hand guided your face towards him and sealed your lips. The heat he emanated devoured your whole being. His tongue explored your wet cavern. The moan that escaped your lips urged him to ravage you, worship every part of you.

Kaeya did just that. Others might think he was rough, but it was the opposite. He was gentle and ensured his partner received the best treatment possible. Hickeys and bites littered your skin as the captain prepared your body. He fingered your hole, enough to make it wet and ready for his cock. Moans and grunts echoed around the room, and the temperature rose as your skin flushed.

Once you were ready, Kaeya gave you one final kiss before thrusting inside. He was long and girthy, enough to reach the deepest part of your sex. The pleasure and love he gave made you cry. Kaeya kissed the tears away and continued his endeavor. He whispered promises and assurance that you were his as he was yours.

“Deeper! Ha…ah~ K-Kaeya! Please!” You screamed, feeling yourself about to cum. With a smirk, Kaeya fixed your position and thrust deeper. Your eyes lulled at the feeling of him abusing your hole. It was too much. He smiled at your expression and gave one strong thrust before cumming inside. You followed suit.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He murmured, nuzzling your neck while still coming down from his high. You smiled and gave him another kiss. The night was still young, and the captain ensured that your bodies were enthralled in passion.

“I love you too, Kaeya.”

A week later, news of missing kids circulated Mondstadt. The Knights of Favonius were on high alert, considering that it was again similar to the one they had experienced years ago. When you heard the news, you consulted Kaeya about it and inquired about the status of the mission. It had been a tough week for them, and it was evident in his eyes. However, you did not expect the backlash you received from him.

“Isn’t this your group’s doing, (Y/N)? The Fatui denied the current accusation, but from our intel, this was the work of the Decay of Angel. So what do you say, Overseer (Y/N)?” He mocked. You felt a pang of guilt and hurt at his words. It was the title you threw away years ago. This should have already prepared you, but it still upset you.

“I have long forgotten that, Kaeya. I defected from the organization years ago. I came to Mondstadt for a new life and—“ You tried to explain.

“And implicate us. You’re such an idiot, (Y/N)! Have you ever thought that they would have tracked you here one way or another? You could have chosen a faraway place, somewhere you would not hurt anybody and—“ He cursed, but you interrupted him.

“And die in a ditch, alone, without redeeming myself. You wished that I should have suffered alone? Is that it, Kaeya?” You uttered defeatedly. Kaeya was silent, clenching his fist tightly. He let his anger get the best of him and uttered words that would hurt anyone.

Sighing, you clipped your vision to your hip and left your shared home. The delusion was hidden from sight. You decided that after work, you would deal with the problem. The Knights of Favonius might not stand a chance if it was them. At least not when there were two of them. Knowing that you were in Mondstadt and might have to deal with the knights, it would be best to assume that two members will be in sight.

“That would be 867 mora. Thank you for your patronage.” The man who purchased it noticed the look in your eyes and asked if you were all right. You merely smiled at him and lied that the heavy lifting you had done earlier sapped your energy. He laughed and comforted you.

The day went by without a problem, except for the fact that you noticed a few Fatui soldiers looking your way. You sent them a stern look, and the last customer came. It was a man with white hair and steel-blue eyes. You recognized the amicable smile on his face.

“One apple, please.” He requested. You grabbed one and handed it to him, but not without pulling him down. You glared at him and demanded what they wanted in Mondstadt. He smiled.

“Take a walk with me, (Y/N).”

You told the store manager you would leave early to show a friend around. She nodded and let you off, but not without noticing the man. He was mesmerizing, rivaling the well-known bachelors in the region. The man gave her a wave before pulling you for the walk.

“Is Mondstadt treating you right, (Y/N)? I could see that it’s better than Snezhnaya by a lot.” He chuckled. You stopped in your tracks and clutched the vision beside you.

“Stop with the farce, Nikolai. I know you were sent here to eradicate me. Dottore must have ordered you to gather a few children along the way to remind me that I could never escape him. Am I right, Executioner Nikolai?” You asked. Nikolai softly smiled.

Suddenly, the air around you warmed up. The executioner took out his weapon, layered it with pyro and threw it toward you. Swiftly, you deflected it with your rapier. It hit the ground, but Nikolai ordered it back to his hand. Using his vision again, he dashed and grazed your leg, a warning cut for you to listen. You hissed at the heat, utilizing your hydro vision to heal the seared skin. In a matter of seconds, you ran to him and kicked the sword from his hand. You gripped it tightly, despite the flames eating at your flesh, before slashing his torso. He roared in agony, desperately removing the clothes that bothered his wounds. With a swish of his hand, the sword was gone from your hold and back in his hand. Sounds of metal clashing against each other soon echoed throughout the cliff. You kicked his shin and twisted for another kick to his head, but he grabbed your leg and heated it. The burn was severe even with hydro energy layering it.

"You betrayed us in the most nonsensical way, Oversee. That title was given to you because you were more emotionally stable than any of us, but no. You left us to suffer! The Doctor experimented on us again, you know?" He cried, deranged eyes drilling into your own.

"I defected because of how inhumane Dottore was. We were not born monsters, Nikolai, yet we grew up to be one. For what reason? To be his accomplice in bloodshed!? Someone told me that there is hope for change. You may call me weak, but I do not regret my decisions. I saw life in another light, Nikolai!" You pushed. Nikolai scorned your words, a remorseful laugh escaping him. He saw nothing but idiocy in your beliefs.

The executioner dashed toward you. Unable to deflect in time, his sword pierced your abdomen. You winced, then kicked him away. Blood bloomed across your shirt, but you were thankful he had not hit any major organ. Staggering, you raised your rapier and hit his arms and legs. He gritted his teeth in irritation, materializing flames in his hands to grip at your sword. You sent another roundhouse kick before slumping down. The sting of your wound slowed you down, so you tried your best to heal it. Nikolai saw you falter and was about to attack when spears of hydro appeared behind him. He was too late to react, and it impaled his arms, abdomen, and legs. Pinned to the ground, you crouched down.

"Did you ever think of escaping that hellhole, Nikolai?" You asked.

“The Decay was our home, and you destroyed that. We were happy, (Y/N)! The Doctor did not touch us anymore, and yet—“ He was too foolish to be reasoned with.

“We were not safe, nor were we happy. I could hear you shuffle in your bed as you drowned the noises of the children crying. I could see Shirushi trembling at the ghastly memories the Doctor left. Even the others feared for their lives. We can never run away, and this might be it for me too.” You whispered the last part to yourself. Nikolai was silent, exhausted from overusing his ability. Your words reached him, but it was too late. As a parting gift, he warned you about Shirushi.

“Damnit! It just has to be Shirushi.” You huffed, several cuts in your body still bleeding. Nikolai softly laughed before succumbing to eternal sleep.

Rushing to where they could be after rummaging Nikolai’s corpse, you reminisced the dark memories you buried within. The Doctor promised a fortune to the families of the Decay. The poverty strengthened the resolve of those in the organization to sign up and stay. However, you learned that the doctor double-crossed you and killed your families. You also learned that some of them became part of the God-Residue experiment. It was awful, downright inhumane. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you wiped them immediately.

Arriving at the domain where the Knights dealt with Shirushi, you were met with a cold breeze and defeated soldiers. Blood pooled on your feet, reminding you of that gruesome nightmare. Gulping, you walked further until you noticed three figures. A phoenix-shaped flame soared around, melting the ice that covered the area, but electro surged towards it, causing an overload reaction. Smoke engulfed the room.

Diluc and Kaeya clutched their wounds as they deflected the attacks from the man ahead. His blond hair swayed with the vaporized gas while his purple eyes were undeterred from the battle. Only when he noticed your presence did he stop. You stood with your rapier, hydro energy flaring in rage.

“Overseer (Y/N). You’re here. I can finally accomplish my Master’s task. Please come with me obediently.” He voiced. You turned to Diluc and Kaeya, who bore a petrified look. A smile made its way to your face.

"Ingenuine Dome." You muttered. A bell chime echoed around the domain, and a green dome enveloped the area. It stopped right before Diluc and Kaeya. No one can enter or exit the dome without the user's permission. Kaeya noticed it was malleable, but neither his hand nor his element could penetrate it. He expressed his confusion, but you drowned it out and turned to Shirushi, who was playing with his catalyst.

"It's nice to see you again, Shirushi. You said that you would take me back? I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, nor will you return in one piece." You held your rapier and infused it with hydro. Shirushi sighed at the challenge, but he readied his catalyst. It was silent for a minute until the blond broke it. He sent cryo blades your way, which you dodged with ease. The projectiles kept coming, so you used your dendro delusion and bound him in place. You directed the projectiles toward him. It was a direct hit.

Shirushi glared at you, creating a cryo shield to break the dendro energy around him. You squinted your eyes at the display of power.

"Hmm, you seem to know how to deal with it now. However, you're a second too late." You muttered. Behind him were hydro spears that slashed his back. He grunted in agony, blood trickling down. Shirushi manipulated his catalyst and formed four cryo dragons that tracked your movements. They snapped their fangs at you as you jumped up to escape their trail. However, it looked like they would not stop unless they hit the prey, so you materialized your hydro dragon. You applied dendro on it before stepping back. Cores immediately appeared and exploded. The cryo dragons were reduced to dust.

The blond executioner was enraged. Soon, electro permeated through the air. You created a separate dome to contain him, but he destroyed it quickly. Challenged, you pushed your hydro energy to the ground and combined it dendro. Cores appeared again, but you bound him with dendro energy this time. Hyperbloom was a crazy reaction, and it hit Shirushi. His electro delusion backfired on him.

"I really hate you." He snarled. He concentrated his electro energy and created dragons that swiftly grazed your legs. It rendered you unable to move from your spot, the electro energy seeping through your flesh. You gasped, knees buckling in pain. Shirushi grinned and prepared to electrify you. Kaeya saw it and screamed at you to stand up. He pounded at the dome, but it was impenetrable. Diluc even dared to burn it, but the hydro energy you placed around vaporized his flames. He underestimated your power.

The executioner touched your wounded abdomen and electrified it. A blood-curdling scream escaped your lips. He burned the flesh around, and you almost passed out.

"Kaeya, I need you to freeze this part before I burn it." The Ragnvindr ordered. The Cavalry Captain raised his eyebrow at that but followed through. Combining their element would ignite it and destroy a part of the dome, just as he expected.

"Let's continue until we can get inside."

As for you, the electro energy had yet to die down, but you pushed through your limits and infused your rapier once again. You parried with his sword.

"You destroyed our haven, Overseer. Everything would have stayed the same if you did not escape! There was no need to sympathize with those weaklings. They were foolish to trust the Doctor!" He screamed. You gripped your weapon and pushed it forward.

"We are fools to trust the Doctor too, Shirushi! I want to remain human. Can't you see it!? I—" You huffed, but Shirushi scoffed at your reasoning.

"You are no saint, (Y/N). You're merely foolish." Shirushi commented. He coated electro to his cryo dragons and attacked you. You dodged with dendro, which exploded at the contact before utilizing the last of your energy to pierce through him. The dome suddenly broke as Shirushi's cry echoed. You kneeled in front of him and whispered in his ears.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, Shirushi. I really am, but... this ends here. Goodnight." He closed his eyes slowly, succumbing to the freedom he desired. You wobbly stood up, huffing at the wound engulfing your being. Kaeya reached out to you. A smile made its way to your face as you slumped on his body, blood pouring out of your back. The remnants of Shirushi's cryo energy crept down your spine, and its wintry touch muddled your thoughts.

Kaeya held your trembling figure, petrified at the state of your body. Diluc noticed the ice and created flames to melt it, but you stopped him. You informed them about Shirushi's unique ability to deal cryo damage continuously, even when he had already passed. The Cavalry Captain's eyes widened in fear while Diluc understood the meaning behind your words. He gave you two some space to talk.

"I'm sorry for hiding my... past, Kaeya. I tried to change my life because I was told there was hope for someone like me. However, you might have been right. Happiness was not for me—" He interrupted you, holding your cold body impossibly closer to his.

"You deserved every happiness, (Y/N)! I was just blinded and wished for the best for Mondstadt and... and—" Kaeya blurted, fear creeping into his heart at the amount of blood you were losing. You smiled and held his face, leaning to kiss him softly.

"That's all I could ask for. Your loyalty to Mondstadt is what drew me to you, Kaeya Alberich. Continue to cherish them, and... and... Ah, I'm a bit scared. I will not be able to see you... for a while, nor will I hear your voice. Hahaha." You laughed, coughing as blood blocked your airways. The blood loss made you dizzy, and his voice sounded like you were drowning in water.

Kaeya noticed the light disappearing from your eyes and begged you not to go. However, deep in his heart, he knew that this was it. You thanked him and smiled softly, happy to feel the heat of his body against your cold ones. Soon, Kaeya felt your body limp in his hold. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, whispering your name in hopes you would return.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)... Come back...." You were his meaning of life, but fate took you away. He wanted to curse at the gods. They snatched his happiness away again, leaving a hollow corpse in its wake.

"Kaeya, let's go. I will report this to Jean. You can take them to Barbara." Diluc muttered, trembling at the sight of another loss. He might not be close to you, but you brightened Kaeya's life. He could see how his eyes twinkled at the mere sight or sound of your voice. A silent prayer was sent to the gods, healing his brother's broken heart.

A year had passed, and another Windblume Festival was in sight. The Traveler and Paimon were enjoying the event when Jean came to them and asked for a favor.

"Could you fetch Kaeya from Starsnatch Cliff? It looked like he had left some work in his office again. That guy, I swear." Jean lightheartedly sighed. The Traveler and Paimon turned to each other and agreed at her request. They have no idea why he would be there, but it must be to laze off again.

Jean watched their figures disappear. She turned to the side and saw a bouquet of red and pink lilies. It must have been Kaeya who placed it there. Healing takes time, and there will be scars in his heart.

'Lord Barbatos, please continue to heal his heart.' She prayed.

The Traveler and Paimon reached the end of Starsnatch Cliff, and as expected, Kaeya was there. He was leaning on a tombstone, slumbering. His cheeks were stained with tears, and he was holding an empty vision in his hand.

"(Y/N)...."

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #genshin #romance #angst #kaeya #kaeya x reader

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