#regular show paul | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eratosmusings · 2 months

Text

Stolen Destiny (II)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: the na-baron takes an interest in you

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.8k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

“...humiliating…disgusting…barbaric…”

You flinch as your father’s anger roars. Nothing you do will ever please him.

“What do you think will be said of me? Of how I raised you?”

“You didn’t,” you want to say. Instead you apologize. Harkonnens are animals you rationalize. They were testing to see if you were prey and you had to show them you aren’t.

“And in doing so you’ve tainted yourself.”

It’s like a slap. The cut on your hand still stings from the solution they’d scrubbed on it. It had only been a handshake. It was a show of strength. He’d understand that sentiment if there was a cock swinging between your legs. He doesn’t stay to say more, leaving you to nurse the wounds alone.

A feast is held that night. A welcome to your guests. You're squeezed into a new outfit, one you've been told your father deems more appropriate than the one you’d had chosen. It’s the first time he’s ever taken the initiative to dress you. It gives you no pleasure to recognize the dress as one of his courtesan’s.

“Your dress is lovely,” says the Princess Irulan when she sees you again after the food had been taken away and the party mills about in the Hall. She takes your arm and strolls with you between the bodies. The familiarity between you is striking. She speaks of her sisters, the planet she calls home. You tell her of your studies. It seems you share a fondness for the same authors.

It’s odd to feel her warm smile. There were few women in your life. Maids mostly, though they rotated frequently. A few of the castle’s regular entertainers when allowed. You don’t count the courtesans who keep your father company.

“Princess,” Paul greets her with a bow, intruding on your talks of taking an excursion around the palace grounds. Those green eyes turn on you and sweep across your form. “My lady, you look stunning.” He takes your hand again and bends to kiss it while you try not to flinch. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Irulan says with more kindness than deserved. “We were just making plans to visit the lake the day after tomorrow.”

The way his face lights up has your excitement plummeting. He’s eager to join. You stay as long as you can stand his conversation. It’s not long. You excuse yourself, claiming the need to check on the rest of your guests, and extract your arm from the princess’. You accept a kiss on your cheek from her before disappearing into the crowd.

You have no desire to mingle more. Whatever consequences you’ll face when your father finds out about you slipping out don’t worry you. His anger would have found something to punish you for anyways. Cool air greets you as you step into the gardens. It’s not your favorite place, but the training yard is too far in this getup.

“It’s rude to leave your own party.”

Hair raises on your arms, but you don’t turn to the voice. “You have my apologies for my rudeness then.”

“And it is unwise to keep your back to an armed man.”

“What fun is life without a little risk, na-Baron?”

He chuckles at that. There’s quiet footsteps as he paces behind you like a panther appraising a potential meal. You keep your eyes forward. “You and the princess seem to have bonded quite quickly.” He’s been watching you.

“She is easy to be fond of.”

Shadow swallows you as he steps behind you. Breath ruffling your hair he asks, “But Paul Atriedes is not?” He’s been watching you closely. A fingernail scraps down your bare arm. “Do you resent him for what he’s stolen from you?”

You spin.

The black void that is his smile is wide on his face. Humiliation sears your throat. How many people know of your father’s deepest shame? Feyd-Rautha seems to revel in that silent moment. Your pain brings him pleasure.

“I must return to my guests,” you say and step around him. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you're prepared. You evade, pull your arms taut to your chest, and dart down the hall as his laugh taunts. The respect you built with the Harkonnens was nothing more than delusion. It doesn’t matter what teeth you bare or claws you present, any show of weakness will be exploited.

You round a corner and nearly crash into a guard. The same one from earlier. He questions if you’re hurt, eyes darting the corridor behind you. He seems to find nothing. You agree with his warnings now. It’s best you don’t wander alone.

You wake unrested. Images of blackened teeth, slicing blades, and hoarse laughter haunt you into the morning hours. You’ve made the decision to retain a personal guard. The choice in who is easy.

You spend the day reviewing everything for your coming of age in a couple of days. Your father is supposed to do it, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s tedious but the hours of distraction are welcome. And it gives you reason to decline Paul’s lunch invitation. It’s only when the sun is past its peak that you’re forced to hand over the remaining duties to your grumbling father. The swordmaster demands your time to refine a performance you still can’t rationalize. Who is it for?

Your father? A man who despises any display of femininity from you? The princess? In some attempt at an apology for a marriage that can now no longer be? Or House Atreides? The ones who’d stolen your destiny before you’d been a seed in your mother’s womb? This artistry certainly isn’t for the brutes of House Harkonnen.

The music halts half way through the fourth run. “Your timing is wrong,” the swordmaster says and has you begin again.

By time he’s satisfied, your legs burn and your patience is worn thin. You can only glower at your guard, Fandral you’ve learned is his name, as he compliments the dance. “I like the story it tells,” he defends.

“There’s not a story.” You massage the shoulder of your sword arm. The ache isn’t unwelcome, but the cause is frustrating. The time would have been better spent actually training.

“All art tells a story,” he says.

You scoff. “And what’s the story? I go crazy and start fighting air?”

“You can see it that way, but I think there’s more nuance.” He eyes the girls as you hand off the swords as if expecting one of them to run you through. “It’s the story of a girl turning into a woman.”

A laugh erupts from you. It’s a fitting story for your coming of age, at least. He tries to explain his reasoning. The symbolism of the first sword as the first menstruation, the second as the final years of youthful rebellion, and the end is the acceptance of the new role as a woman. You don’t quite believe it.

There’s no dreams of black teeth or the bite of blades that night. This nightmare is of your mother. Her face unmoving. Silent as you scream. She never moves, but she’s forever out of reach. Then she’s gone and you’re left gasping in the dark alone.

“This is beautiful,” Paul says in awe as he stares out over the lake.

It’s difficult to not let every word out of his mouth annoy you. You remind yourself he didn’t steal anything from you. His mother did. “You should see it at sunrise.”

He tears his gaze off the water. “I’d like that.” He says it so earnestly you feel you’re missing something.

“As would I,” Irulan says. You turn your head to look at her on your otherside, but her eyes remain focused on the scenery.

“And I,” the Harkonnen rasps in your ear.

His addition to the excursion had been as unexpected as it was unwanted. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a day by the water. Even now, he’s at odds with the world around him. His stark white skin and ghastly black clothes unsettling out amongst the colors. You doubt he truly wants to see the beauty of first light.

“Another day,” you say. It’s not a promise.

You only plan to stay for an hour at most, enjoying a light lunch under your favorite tree, but Paul asks about going out on the lake. There’s only a small canoe available on such short notice, but it’s enough. Irulan has no desire to get on the water and says she’d prefer to ask Feyd-Rautha about the Spice harvesting on Arrakis. You aren’t keen on leaving her with him, but she insists and there’s guards to keep her safe.

Paul tries to play the gentleman and offers you his hand once he’s in the canoe, but he’s unsteady and nearly tips it over. You return his apologetic smile as you hear hoarse, barking laughter from the tree.

He’s inquisitive as you row out of sight. About your studies, arts you partake in, foods you enjoy. He even asks about your favorite color. You try to respond in kind, but he doesn’t leave you much time to catch your breath between answers let alone ask your own questions. It’s frustrating but you smile and bear it.

“What’s that?”

Blinking at him confused, you follow his gaze. A few meters from the shoreline was a small marble pavilion. It’s overgrown with vines, graying from the accumulation of dirt and grime. You’ve forgotten it was here. It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth when you speak. “Just an old pavilion.”

You let him take the canoe further for a while longer, before turning it back. You don’t look at the pavilion when you pass it again. It’s a relief to come back into view of the others. The canoe floats to stop beside the small dock. Fandral is there waiting, his arm extended. But Paul stands too quickly and the canoe sways. Your hand brushes Fandral’s outstretched one for a moment, but you tilt the other way and spill into the frigid water.

It's not deep. Once you have bearings you’re able to stand and your head breaks through the surface. You take in a deep, shuddering breath. There’s a commotion beside you. Paul’s head pops out and sprays more water in your face.

Someone’s speaking, but there's a river flowing in your ears that makes it impossible to understand. It's a difficult walk to the dock. Your dress is heavy and the water slows your steps. An arm reaches out to you and you take it to help pull yourself up.

Feyd-Rautha stares down at you. Not with a smile. There’s no amusement on his face. There's something new in his eyes you don’t recognize. It takes Fandral’s interference to release you from the intensity of his gaze. The guard shrugs off the jacket of his uniform and drapes it around your shoulders.

Irulan frets despite your multiple assurances you’re fine. It wasn’t deep. There was no danger. You’re wet, that’s all. Paul apologizes over and over and over again. “It was an accident,” you say in hopes of appeasing his guilt. You want Paul Atreides to leave you alone.

your thoughts are appreciated!

join my taglist 💕

next chapter

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #dune part two #stolen destiny

722 notes · View notes

vintagegeekculture · 4 months

Text

Star Trek's "Lost" Main Character

Just when you think you know everything there is to know about the original Star Trek, you learn something new, like the fact someone you barely remember was going to be a series regular. Take the case of "Yeoman Smith," played by Andrea Dromm, a petty officer secretary in "Where No Man Has Gone Before." Everyone knows that Trek had a first pilot with a different cast. But the cast of the second pilot was analyzed more in terms of who wasn't there (Dr. McCoy and Uhura were added only when the show went to series and were not in the second pilot at all), than who was.

One character in particular is easy to overlook as she seemed like just another lowly and invisible crewman, Yeoman Smith. Surprisingly, Andrea Dromm was hired to be a main character on the show.

The NBC publicity materials made for the second pilot mentioned and discussed her as they would Kirk and Spock, and treated her as a series regular, which at the time, she was:

“YEOMAN SMITH, who has drawn the important assignment of secretary to the Captain on her first mission in deep space, is easily the most popular member of Kirk’s staff. A capable secretary and efficient dispenser of instant coffee, she also provides a welcome change of scenery for eyes that have spent long hours scanning the vast reaches of space.”

Almost from the beginning though, it was not to be. Andrea Dromm caused trouble on set because, according to Herb Solow, Gene Roddenberry "hired Dromm so he could 'nail her.'" Trek was in enough trouble, as Roddenberry cast his mistress, Rachel Lee Hudec (aka Majel Barrett), which violated his Desilu "virtue clause." Lucille Ball, embarassed by her former husband Desi Arnaz's well known extramarital antics, insisted on virtue clauses in contracts for creatives.

As for what happened and why Yeoman Smith never ended up being a regular, we have two different conflicting stories. Andrea Dromm said she had to choose between making Star Trek, or making a film, "The Russians are Coming," and she picked the movie over a less prestigious tv show. Star Trek producer Herb Solow tells a different story and remembers that "Yeoman Smith" was one of two main characters who were let go to keep costs down when the show went to series. The other main character fired? James Doohan as Scotty.

After being informed he was fired after the first pilot, Doohan called his agent, the physically intimidating and formidable Paul Wilkins, who convinced Roddenberry to return Doohan to the series. It is not known how this was accomplished (Herb Solow, who's memoirs are the basis of most of what we know about early Trek, was not present, only Roddenberry was), but Doohan had his job back within the day.

As for what would have happened with Yeoman Smith if she had stayed as a main character....who knows? The character of Yeoman Rand, well known for her beehive hairdo, was a replacement for her character, so it's likely that Yeoman Smith as a main character would have filled similar roles in stories, probably beat for beat and note for note. All the same however, it's hard to ignore how much more quiet moxie, no-bullshit stares, and extrovert elan Andrea Dromm projected on screen than the more subdued Grace Lee Whitney. Dromm's character was underdeveloped, sure, but so was Scotty and Sulu at that point, and the characters they eventually became were built around their actors' strengths and warmth. It's not hard to imagine something similar might be done with Dromm, and her character might have gone on very different lines from her replacement.

#star trek #tos

661 notes · View notes

rockrosethistle · 3 months

Text

so I was a little disappointed to find that Mr. Davidson's newspaper is just a regular newspaper that they taped the word "Hatchetfield Gazette" and "A Meteor Hits!" on to

but I was thrilled to notice Mr. Chasity's newspaper was filled with lovely bits of lore. Including

"Nighthawks prepare to swoop"

"Mayor Lauter's re-election campaign off to a rocky start"

"New land development proposed at edge of Witchwood Forest"

"(Hatchetfield?) puts its foot on the gas!"

"Mamma Mia! disappoints at the Starlight Theater"

"High society hangout destroyed"

Except I literally cannot think of what this could be referencing. Maybe high is a play on words and they're talking about Emma's farm burning down? Only she gets arrested at the end of Perky's Buds, which doesn't line up with her working at Beanies later in the show. The only other thing I could think of is maybe The Birdhouse, which android Emma burns down, but that happens after Emma and Paul get married. So that's a bit of a mystery

I think he knows the answer

#hatchetfield #starkid #npmd #tgwdlm #nerdy prudes must die #the guy who didn't like musicals #hatchetverse #hatchetfieldverse #team starkid #mr davidson #mark chasity

461 notes · View notes

m1ssunderstanding · 14 days

Text

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #let it be

234 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 25 days

Note

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

226 notes · View notes

demonir · 1 month

Text

re-reading the showdown comic rn and here are some of my thoughts <3

look at his tiny ass fucking backpack im in love, i mean its probably a regular sized backpack but hes so big it looks tiny on him.

can someone photoshop the backpack to look like those bootleg children's my little pony backpacks? please?

more under the cut

also lets not ignore just HOW fucking strong heavy is, we know this man fights bears bare handed this was probably nothing to him (i need this man to hold me like a bunch of grapes)

also the way he will avoid violence if he can? this might have just been an excuse to not draw heavy beating up dogs (which I appreciate) but it also just shows heavy's softer side

tell me he doesn't look cute right here I DARE YOU

the admin thinking heavy is gonna kill her, heavy taking her words literally, her realizing what's going on and cancelling the self destruct sequence. that is pure comedy in TWO panels

how do you think pyro got through? there were no signs of mess before heavy got in and pauling WAS with the admin moments prior so she must have seen pyro there, are we not gonna address that?? also they look cute here but we all know that

pyro was so real for this, they were NOT letting heavy baby them like that

anyways that's all, off to re-read the other comics!

#tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 comics #demos ramblings #also i didnt include it but the part where pauling doesnt notice heavy at all is funny #overall i just love heavy so much i hope yall can agree

170 notes · View notes

moonmaiden1996 · 2 years

Text

Claiming his Queen

Taking a break from the real world and wanted to write a random idea I needed to get out after watching the Sandman. I loved the book but the casting was amazing. I am literally dying with how good it is. REQUESTS OPEM

Soulmate Fic

Summary- You spent your summers at the Burgess Manor with your parents, but stumbling upon captive in the basement is going to change your life forever.

Slightly dark fic- Warnings include imprisonment, possessive thoughts, pain and soul branding.

You remember playing at the Burgess Manor as a child. The gardens were stunning, a sea of green against the glimpses of colour. You spent many days happily frolicking outside as your parents attended the meeting within the house. Many staff had whispered about the devil trapped in the basement behind the Grand Magus's powerful spells. Some said the Grand Magus himself had discovered the secret to eternal life and hid it behind the door. One staff member even said it was a vampire who would creep upstairs in the dead of night and steal away his victims.

There was a sort of glee at taring around the ancient house, discovering secrets, chasing the ghosts and battling monsters. As you grew older, the monster did not lose their appeal; it was more that you had discovered everything that could be discovered, apart from the mystery of what was in the basement. In the long summer breaks away from school, you spent great lengths observing the guards disappearing and not reappearing till they changed in the early morning. Was it the demon? Buried treasure? Or something more?

The summer humidity clung to your brow as you absentmindedly perused one of the many books in the library. The ruckus from the party had long ago distracted you from reading. Your parents were regular attendees of the Burgess coven meeting; as a child, the cloaks and candles held some romantic notion, but as you grew older, you saw what it was, a chance for bored people to play dress-up and dance around naked.

'You should get to bed.' The soft voice of Paul pulled you from your musings.

'Come on, Uncle Paul, it's early.' You smiled, sliding the book off your lap as you stood.

'Hmmm, well, I won't tell if you won't; there is some chocolate in the study; I think I can trust you not to get caught.' Paul wagged his finger.

With a new sense of glee, you abandoned your attempts to read, slipping into the library unseen, eyeing the bright pink box lined with cherry cordials. Yet it wasn't the chocolates that distracted you; it was the guards. Normally they never emerged outside their shift hours, but the hot night drove them above stairs. Quietly, munching on your chocolate, you watched as the squat men shuffled away.

Biting your lip, you suckled the smears of dark chocolate off your fingers as you hurried along the hallway. Carefully, you pried the door open, willing the squeak away. The staircase of crumbling stone was dimly lit, and the smell of mould and dust loitered in the air, tugging at your nose. Crouching down on the steps, you surveyed the open recess of the room. A frown tugged at the corners of your lips. It was empty save for an out-of-place Ikea desk next to one of the walls. Then something under the white neon lights caught your attention. Moving down the stairs, your eyes adjusted to the almost blinding light. No wonder the guards sort to escape the intense heat given off by the strips of bulbs that hung above you.

Your eyes flickered back to the strange glass ornament in the middle of the floor. For a moment, you thought your eyes were playing tricks. In the centre of the orb sat a naked man, skin almost translucent in the light. Only his ebony black hair seemed to show that he was there. Moving forward, you could not help but let out a horrified gasp. The man was almost painfully thin and painfully naked; you thanked all the gods that he was crossed-legged.

'Hello? Are you ok……' your voice stuck in your throat as the man's head snapped up to meet her gaze, his steely silver eyes piercing through you, drawing you in like a magnet.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Even behind the thick glass of his prison, Morpheus felt a sharp sting pierce his soul. His eyes greedily watched as a shiver ran through her body as the invisible thread between them bound them.

A fire had been lit inside him, and hunger he had never felt before clawed up from within him. His gaze had her transfixed; their connection fizzled, desperate to touch. Morpheus always believed that love always ended in pain. Experience had given him definitive proof; Nada, Goodrich, Eric, and Susana all ended in betrayal or anguish. It was messy. Humans were proof. Their love was not real, a fleeting respite from the loneliness, a belief they clung to. Real love was rare. Soulmates were extraordinary magic that the creator bestowed onto humanity at the beginning. It was the only pure magic left in the world. It was strange magic that none of the endless cared to fathom. Why would they? Soulmates were gifts to humans, not the endless, yet there she was—his soulmate.

His silver eyes watched as she moved hypnotised across the short distance. Even through the thick glass, the hum was violent, deafening, and maddening. Lifting his hand, he placed it over the glass beckoning to her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your body felt free, impossible light as it surged forward towards the man. You weren't sure he was real; he was pale and perfect like he had been chiselled out of a piece of alabaster marble. A painful jolt passed through your open palm every step, yet it spurred your movement until your hands met, the glass separating them. It was almost too hot to hold your hand in place, but your body refused to flinch.

His eyes burnt into yours, engraving themselves onto the back of your mind. The swirling silver spheres were the last thing you saw before your body crumpled to the ground.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The soft mumble of voices was what broke through your unconsciousness, and for a few seconds, your body felt light and free before the heaviness sunk into your bones. The searing pain surged across your left palm and arm until it finally rested in your heart.

'What happened?' Your voice was weak and raspy.

'You were electrocuted, sweetie; you were told never to go down into the basement.' Your mother whispered. 'The burn… is only small. Not worry.’ Her voice cracked a little as her gaze rested on the tightly bandaged hand.

'I….The glass. There was a man.' Your voice sounded so strange to you, so rough and weak.

'There was no man, sweetie. You touched one of the exposed cables; we are lucky Alex found you.’ T

'But there was a man…I…’ you tried.

‘Shhhhh sweetie, we will be home soon. Rest. ’ Your eyes felt too heavy to fight against the command, but they stayed open just long enough to see the look of guilt past your parent's faces and the worry that set deeply in Alex Burgess’s eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After that, you saw your parents less and less. They never did return to the Burgess Manor, and neither did you. All mention of the man in the sphere was forbidden. You had skin graft after skin graft, but nothing could cover the red mark on your hand. A reminder of the man in the sphere. As if you could ever forget. He scared you, the silent creature. In her mind, he was always watching, never speaking, but his eyes seemed to devour you, drawing you in. You wonder if that is how sharks get their prey. They wait for a careless swimmer, too mesmerised by the eyes to notice the teeth before it is too late. You wonder if he has cursed you. Then you wonder if it is too late to save yourself. But you know, it's too late anyway.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The travel back to the Burgess estate passed quickly. It was almost a relief to see the ominous grey house standing proudly against the green lawns. It was hard to believe ten years had passed already; everything still looked the same, apart from Paul. He stooped a little more now, and his hair, you think, is much greyer than you remember.

'I’m glad to see you again, but you have come at a rather bad time; Alex has had one of his nasty turns.' Paul started.

'I didn't want to see him. I want to see you.’

There was a flash of understanding over his face as he took your arm, leading you away from the house, across the lawn and into the maze that hung off the side of the house, not stopping till only the top of the manor could be seen.

'It's about the man in the basement…’ you began.

'Dear child…’ Paul sighed, interrupting you, but you remained strong in your goal.

'I am not a child anymore. You can't explain it or ignore my questions anymore. I know what I saw…what gave me this.’ You rolled up your sleeve to reveal the angry raised burn that decorated your hand. ‘You can't keep him chained down there anymore.'

'I know…I know… but I can't. Alex… is delicate; you don’t know the power of that thing' he sighed, sitting on the little bench he had walked you to.

'I know exactly. This mark is proof of that. I dream of him; he haunts me. No matter what I do, I still feel that burn through my veins. I cannot get rid of it. …It…it hurts. And I can’t… won't bare it anymore.’ Your bite out the last part as you look down at the man you once tenderly regarded as an Uncle.

He gazed up at you with weary eyes. Only now did you see how old he looked, the worry lines that wreaked his beautifully dark skin.

'You know, in the beginning, I feared him getting out, but now, after all this time, is there anything that he could have done worse than all this?' Paul shook his head as they watched the birds glide across the sky. ‘We should have done more for you, helped you somehow, but Alex was so scared….’

‘What's done is done; just please help me now.’

Paul said nothing, but you saw the slight nod of his head.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

'You know she came by the house today. You remember her, don't you? She has grown into a rather pretty young woman. You can have her; all you need to do is promise.' Alex Burgess was an older man now, made feeble by time and despair.

Often, the man would talk to Morpheus about the future Queen of the Dreaming, forcing pictures of her in front of him like a cruel taunt. Endless questions about the mark, Morpheus’s mark on her skin. Promising to give him her name, not that it mattered, she was HIS Queen, or she would be soon.

The more time passed, the more arrogant his pleas became. The mere fact that he thought he had permission to speak of her insulted Morpheus; the pathetic man thought he could use his future Queen as a bargaining chip. It was an offence the human could ill afford. The King of Dreaming would bide his time and have his revenge on the Burgess before he claimed his future bride and Queen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

News of Alex Burgess's sleeping sickness came not long after you visited the manor, and the world seemed to fall into some sort of madness. Mass murders, strange weather, people who had been asleep for decades suddenly waking up.

You nibbled your bottom lip. Maybe asking Paul to release his captive was a selfish thing to do. People had died, and for what? That feeling clawing up from within you was still there. Your tanned palm was unchanged; the burn remains like a brand of ownership. It seemed you were still damned, and now the world was in utter chaos. With silent tears rolling down your face, you laid back against the mountain of the pillow and willed yourself away to the only place you found peace, your dream.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You still dreamt of the silver-eyed man, but the fever and pain seizing your soul were gone. This dream was one of your favourites. It was comfortable and snug. Where nothing mattered because nothing happened, it was just you and your dream. Till you heard the voice. Dreams were always silent, or at least that was how you remembered them. But the low, velvety voice was clear, invading the silence. So deep and rich, it had to be a dream.

It floated around you till it you. Faceless arms stretched around your waist, pulling you against a hard body. Lips ghosted across the nape of your neck and drifted across the plains of your shoulder, working their way back toward your throat.

'My Queen.' The thick voice growled.

The lips were small but soft, worshipping a spot at the base of your neck. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the familiar mop of black hair that haunted your dreams. A wanton moan escaped your lips as your eyes fluttered shut, knees weak as their teeth scrapped just in the right place.

'Soon, my love, soon. After I complete my unfinished business, I will come for you.'

You woke with a start, a desperate wetness gathering between your plush thighs, the voice echoing across your mind sending shivers of desire across your body as you remembered the gruff voice. You had dreamed about his lips, face and boy before, but never had he spoken.

Wearily, you ran your hand over your neck, freezing as you stared down in disbelief at the angry purple hickey that stained your skin.

Anyone for a smut-heavy part two?

#Morpheus #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman #dream #king of dreams #the endless

4K notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 11 months

Text

Head Filled With Demons (Steddie X You)

A/N: Ok, a few things here. First I played fast and loose with demon mythology as well as a lot of the themes from the episode of Black Mirror this is based on. There are no spoilers for that episode so don't worry. I guess you could say this is an AU Steddie as in this world they are relatively well known demons in their mythology. I pulled some stuff from the show but...you'll see. No spoilers for either show here lol

I hope this is coherent and makes sense lol I had fun with it and I still have more chapters to go :) .

Warnings: Demon Steddie X Human fem reader; SMUT and ANGST with a dash of fluff. The smut has sprinkles of Dom Steddie (spanking, scolding, dirty talk), Mentions of a sick parent and death of another parent, small scene detailing domestic abuse (may be triggering), Steddie gives the reader visions so she sees bad things people in Hawkins do including the end of the world, there is a murder (very brief; blood is mentioned), y/n and Steddie mention a lot of themes regarding feeling stuck and unhappy.

Word Count: 6842

“HELLO!?”

You jump as the customer in front of you slams her items on the counter.

“I’ve been waiting here for five minutes for service! Are you going to ring me up or not?!”

“Yes, ma’am. I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize. Just do your fucking job.”, she grumbles as you begin scanning the things in front of you.

This will be the thousandth time TODAY you got caught daydreaming about being anywhere else but this stupid department store in the Hawkins mall. After graduating high school, you thought your options would be endless but once your father got sick, you knew you had to stay home to take care of him. You thought about applying to colleges nearby but everything was too expensive especially with the added medical and regular bills around the house, you needed to find employment fast.

After the mall was built, you knew there would be a plethora of available positions and found one with a good hourly wage. The problem was it was incredibly boring. Some days you felt like running out of the store and just flipping over the railing to the second floor. At least you might finally feel something. Add in customers like this one and it was a good mix of pain and annoyance to drive you through to the end of your shift.

“Are you done or what?!”

“Yes ma’am. Here’s your receipt and, please, have a great rest of your day.”, you say with the biggest fake smile you can muster.

“You need an attitude check, missy.” She spat before turning and walking out the store.

“Wow, you sure leave an impression.” Carol comes up behind you and leans against the counter, popping her gum obnoxiously. “Mr. Cline wants you to take those boxes to the basement.”

You glance where she’s pointing at the three boxes stalked against the wall that are taller than you both.

“My last break is coming up. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because he didn’t ask me to. He asked for you.”, she sneered. “Is there a problem?”

“No,”, you grinned in a thin line. “No problem.”

***

You huffed as you threw the boxes on to the ground, not even pretending to care if there was anything delicate within them. Leaning against the wall to catch your breath, you look around the illuminated but still extremely creepy basement.

Most of the stores in the mall kept a lot of their miscellaneous stock down here, segregated to different areas. Your department store usually kept overstocked clothing items like shoes and jackets until the ones upstairs were sold out or someone asked for something specific that was no longer kept on the shelf. The area was right next to the security guard’s desk but today he didn’t seem to be there.

You walked over to it, glancing at the papers strewn all over the place.

“Boo!”

“Jesus Christ, Paul!”, you exhale as you grip your chest. “Scared the crap out of me.”

“Good.”, he chuckles. “See anything interesting?” He laughs harder when you shake your head. “I’m actually glad I saw you. I found something on the floor here the other day I thought you’d think was cool.”

Paul digs into his desk drawer and produces a necklace with a gem tied to the end.

“Beautiful, huh? The stone looks kind of like a guitar pick, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does. Where did you find it?”

“Like I said, it was on the floor kind of near your stores cage. I’ve never seen you guys sell anything like that and I know you’re into that gems/crystal mumbo jumbo so… I thought I’d give it to you to take a look. At most, maybe, you could ask Richard if they got some new things in.”

“Uh, yeah, ok. Thank you, Paul. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Of course, hon. Tell your dad I said hello!”

You couldn’t stop staring at the little stone connected to the chain as you rode the elevator back up to the main part of the mall. It did look like a guitar pick which wasn’t an abnormal design in the 80s since almost every single metalhead you passed had something like it but this one was different. Usually those necklaces were cheap, the stone on this looked expensive and old. The gorgeous red color shimmered against the light and pierced your eyes in a way that had a small moan leave your lips at its beauty. There were symbols on either side you couldn’t quiet make out.

It was so odd. As your fingers ran over the material, you got this feeling in your chest, like this thing in your hands was meant for you…

The elevator dinged, startling you back into reality as you quickly hid the item in your pocket and headed back to the store to finish your shift.

##############

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, dad. What are you doing moving around? You should be in bed.”

You father walked over to give you a hug as you greeted him in the kitchen.

“I know but I just wanted to wait for you. See how your day was.”

Sighing, you reach into the fridge to grab a snack before turning towards him so he could see your playful frustrated face. “Oh, you know. The regular; angry housewives and bitchy coworkers.”

He chuckles as he takes a seat at the dining table.

“Y/N, you know you don’t have to work so hard, right?”

“I know, dad. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine. I can handle…” His cough cuts him off and you quickly run to the cabinet to hand him his medicine. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”, you smile as you lean over to hug him again. “I’m fine. Trust me. I’m going to go munch on this junk and then crash.”

As you head towards your room, you hear his shaky exhale before taking another puff of his inhaler.

***

Sitting at your desk, you examine the necklace Paul gave you further and make notes on what you see. Tomorrow, you had the day off so when you went to the library you wanted to be able to have all the information you could.

-silver chain

-Red Jasper stone

-support for stress

-brings tranquility and wholeness (balance)

One side has a baseball style bat with thorns… Nails?

-Maybe meant for protection

Other side is a guitar from a long time ago.

This is definitely beautiful. I wonder where it came fr—

“Ow! Shit.”, you wince as you place your thumb in your mouth. While looking at the gem, the bottom sliced through your skin causing you to bleed on your notes and the stone. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You run to the bathroom to grab a tissue, wrapping it around your finger before wiping it along the piece of jewelry. The feeling of wind on your back caused you to hastily turn around. It felt like someone had tried to touch your hair making a shiver run down your spine.

Shaking away the jitters, you turned around, prepared to clean the blood off the paper when you noticed it was already gone and replaced with red, inked words.

“I could have sworn…”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Did I write that? I don’t think—” You’re not sure what made you do it. Maybe it’s because you were so exhausted or just seeing the word sweetheart triggered a warm, safe feeling in your belly. You scooted your pen below the sentence and responded with a nice, little…

“Hi.”

“How are you tonight, pretty girl?”

“Jesus Christ!” Your chair falls to the floor as you stand and back up towards your bed. Your hand covers your mouth as you watch more words appear on the paper.

“Y/N!? Are you ok?!”

“Um…yeah! Yeah, dad, I’m fine. Just… tripped.”

Slowing inching your way forward, you read the notes in front of you.

“Nice going, Ed.”

“Shit. It’s not my fault! I would be scared to if words magically appeared in front of me.”

“Oh my god. It’s finally happened. I’ve lost my mind. I’m going crazy.”

“You are NOT going crazy. I promise you, babe. What’s your name?”

“A sentient paper is asking me my name. Uh okay… I’m Y/N.”

“Aw, I like that. It’s pretty like you.”

“Y-y-you can see me? Right now?”

“Yes.”

You yelped when you felt a breeze again move past your arms.

“Wh-what’s your name?”

“Make you a deal. You give us permission to enter your realm and we’ll tell you our names.”

“Us?”

“Two sides, honey. Two sets of markings on the stone. Two…people.”

You could swear you hear chuckling in the air.

“Don’t mean to rush you, princess, but we kind of need you to make a choice. Yes or no?”

“I, uh, I don’t—”

“Come on, Y/N. Just say yes. It’s fine. Yes, yes, yes…”

Suddenly, the word “yes” begins to crowd the page repeatedly until it spills over on to your desk. Your breathing picks up as your heartrate increases. Is this really happening? Is this in my head? What’s the downside to this?

“YES!”

Everything in the room stills as the words in front of you disappear. Two words begin to slide across the paper as you lean forward to read them.

“Good girl.”

The light above you snaps off and you hear the sound of heavy breathing coming from your bed. Your eyes widen as you fall to the floor at the sight of two horned, demon looking figures sitting on your mattress. You cower in the corner covering your eyes as you begin muttering to yourself.

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t—”

“Oh, uh, I forgot humans don’t have people like us running around. Um, sweetheart, what form would make you more comfortable?”

When you don’t answer, they sigh as the bed squeaks when they stand. One creature shuffles beside you towards your door where your poster of Tom Cruise in Risky Business hangs. The other moves towards your picture frame on your dresser of you during your meet and greet with Motley Crue.

The sound of two sets of snapped fingers fill the room with a glowing red light and when you dare to sneak a peek from under your arm, you no longer see monster legs but a set of sneakers. A strong but soft hand touches your skin and your head shoots up as you push yourself as far back as you can.

“How’s this? Better?”

The demon in front of you had formed into an everyday man you may see come into your store every now and then. His brown hair fluffed up perfectly and you pushed down the notion to run your fingers through it. Instead of his original rough looking skin, he now donned a soft but muscular form hidden under your typical style polo and jeans. His beautiful brown eyes scanned you over with concern as he kneeled in front of you.

Your eyes flicked to the other one across the room who was now checking himself out in your full-length mirror. His attire was much more torn and rattier than the other ones. His jeans had holes in many different places and the Dio vest was fringing near the bottom. The leather jacket and boots made your tummy flutter. He looked like the kind of man you would have dated back in high school. His long, wavy hair moved quickly as he turned around to face you both, digging into his jacket pocket and producing a cigarette.

“Um, please don’t…my dad…”

He pauses as both boys exchange a look.

“Don’t worry. He can’t see me or inhale anything I smoke.” They watch as you slowly rise to your feet. “Oh shit. Manners. We made you deal. I’m Eddie. This is Steve.” He wiggles his fingers in a waving motion.

“Why is this happening now? Please. I can’t go crazy yet. My dad still needs me. I—”

“Again, not going crazy. See, you found our thing here.”, Steve gestures towards the necklace. “You called for us so here we are.”

“No, no, no. I accidently…I didn’t mean…I…”

“Look, we don’t make the rules. We just follow them. Blood. Stone. Permission. Demons. It’s not that complicated.”

Steve rolls his eyes at his friend’s crassness.

“D-D-Demons?”

“Yeah. It’s not that big a deal really.” Eddie draws a sharp intake of breath he turns towards to you. “I mean not entirely a big deal. Um, you just have to kill a few people or else the world will end but hey! Demons.”

Your eyes turn into saucers as you stumble to the bed. “I-I-I what now?”

“Three people to be exact.”

“Eddie, stop it. You’re scaring her. Y/N, honey…”, Steve kneels in front of you and places his hands on your thighs. Jesus, his palms are huge. “You do have to kill some people I’m afraid but you will be saving so many lives.”

“Holy hell.”, Eddie sighs in frustration, snapping his fingers.

The room around you is suddenly burning as sirens wale in the distance. Running to the window, you looked outside to see all of Hawkins in flames. You sunk to your knees as you covered your ears to muffle the screams of people outside. As quickly as it appeared, the images vanished and you were back in your regular room with two demons staring down at you.

“I know. It’s not pretty, is it?”

Your world went black as your eyes closed and your head hit the floor.

##########

When you shot up the next day, you clutched your chest as you quickly looked around finding only yourself.

“It was just a dream. Oh my god.”, you exhaled as you laid back down, laughing under your breath.

After a quick change of clothes, you grabbed your notes and the necklace to head to the library. You peaked into your dad’s room to make sure he was still ok, leaving him a note on the table to tell him where you were. As you entered the library, you immediately did some quick research that led you to a mythology section of the building. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the placement. Hawkins could be so backward with a lot of things. When you started doing more digging on stones and auras when your mom got sick, this was the same section you found yourself in. This town’s definition of myth was extremely broad.

You found the book you were looking for and slide down to the carpet to lean against the wall. You flipped through, stopping when you found the symbols that matched the ones on the gem. The baseball bat did have nails and represented the demon that referred to himself as Steve.

“Steven is a known demon of protection, protecting any soul that calls for him by any means necessary. He is known as one of the more violent demons killing many beings and monsters with his signature sword. In later millennia, it is believed that he was cast out of his realm for killing one of his own kind to protect another relatively violent demon, Edward.”

“Edward is one of many demons known for music. Throughout history it was reported that Edward played for souls who were suffering. His music lulled many unsuspecting creatures towards their demise, however. It’s also been noted that not only did he use this tactic for war but for lust. He was accused of killing the King’s daughter and was hunted across the realm. Steven found him first and they both went on the run. The King banished them both, casting out Edward as well.”

“They walked from realm to realm before finding a talisman that wasn’t what it appeared to be. The gem belonged to another being who forced them into a life of servitude, trapping them within its material unless set free by a soul who summons them. Any soul that calls for them must kill three individuals or bring about the end of the soul’s world.”

“See? We weren’t lying.”

“Jesus!”, you jumped out of your skin at the sound of Eddie’s voice.

Both men were now sitting on either side of you, arms circled around their knees.

“It’s not a bad gig. I mean at least we still get to move about and watch people die. I wish we had more of a hand in it but…”, he shrugs.

You bring up the book you’re holding just enough to hide your face as you turn slightly toward him.

“You’re real?”

“Yes, we are.”

“And this…this is accurate? The world will end?”

“That is correct.”, Steve responds.

“You have the wrong person for this. I-I can’t kill people.”

“Uh, technically, we didn’t choose you. You chose us. And WE can’t kill people. You can.”

“What? I—”

“Actually, we can kill people but only if they are hurting you.”

After getting up from the floor, you place the book back before powerwalking out the door.

You let out a small squeak when they appear in front of you. “Can you stop doing that?”

“Can you stop running so we can clear the air?”

Bypassing your usual route home, you cut through a forest area so no one would see you talking out loud at what would appear to be yourself.

“Clear the air. Ok, let’s clear the air. How do I know I can trust you? How do I know what you showed me was real?”

“Besides the fact that we LITERALLY showed you the future?”

“How do I know it’s not a trick? Like…killing three people would kick start the apocalypse instead of stopping it…”

“Well, we’re trapped in this realm to so…an end of this world would be the end of us.”, Steve sighs.

“You’re trapped here?”

“Actually, it’s either here or a blank realm we fancily titled Oblivion.”, Eddie chuckles.

“Oblivion?”

“Yup. Just a whole lot of nothingness except me and Ed here.”, he grins as he pats him on the back.

“I still don’t understand exactly why you’re stuck here. Why can’t you go back home?”

“Did you read the book or not?”

You scowl at him as you cross your arms. “Did you kill the king’s daughter?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as his sarcastic smile fell. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then why did you run?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“That book said you lured people in not just to kill them but to fuck them. Is that why? Was she like a conquest or something? Is that what I am—”

His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat as he roughly pushed you back into a tree.

“You don’t know anything, little one, so shut your fucking mouth. Do I make myself clear?”

Your eyes widen as you nod and he tosses you to the side.

Steve kneels on his heels as you cough on the ground trying to catch your breath.

“You’re not a ‘conquest’, Y/N. Trust me, we prefer doing shit like this ourselves. It just…is what it is.”

When he reaches out to take your hand, you swat it away, rising to your feet and continuing your walk back home. You hear them murmuring behind you the entire way.

***

“Hey my angel. How was your day?”, your dad grins as you step into his room.

“It was good. I went to the library so…nothing too exciting.” He laughs along with you pausing to cough and gather more air. “I’m going to make dinner now, ok?”

You smile when he nods, gradually leaving the room completely ignoring both demons who are silently waiting for you. As you turn on the faucet to wash your hands, you feel warmth by your side and the sound of snapped fingers before the room around you turns completely dark. You’re no longer in the kitchen but a bedroom from a house when you were much younger. A voice you hadn’t heard in so long echoes through the hallway and you turn to see your mother grinning as she enters.

“Sweetheart, let her sleep.”

“She is sleeping, honey.”, your dad smiles tenderly as he cradles baby you in his arms. “I just can’t believe she’s finally here; you know? She’s going to have the best life. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Ok, tiger. Calm down.” Your mother pats his back as he carefully lays you back down in your crib. “I understand what you mean though. She deserves the world.”

As she reaches down to caress your cheek, you hear another snap and your current reality comes back into view. You turn to Eddie as a tear falls from your eye.

“I’m sorry…for…snapping at you.”, he struggles as he tries to apologize. “I thought MAYBE this could be my way of making it up to you.”

“You can see the past and the future?”

His tongue presses into the inside of his cheek as he nods.

“May I have a moment alone please?”

With that they were gone and you allowed yourself to cry as you began making your dad’s meal.

#############

After checking in on everything, you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door.

“Where are you going?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s question. “It’s not safe to walk around at night, ya know.”

“Well thankfully I have two demons looking out for me.”, you respond sarcastically.

They follow you as you walk around the town, trying to ignore them as they continue to verbally push you.

“Hawkins is just rife with people who need to leave this plane of existence. I mean that one there…”, Steve snaps his fingers and images fill your mind. “…he steals from his grandmother to buy drugs for himself.”

“This one…”, Eddie snaps. “She bullied a girl so hard she ended up having a break down and was hospitalized for a year.”

“STOP! Stop it.”, you seethe. “It hurts.”

“It hurts you? Imagine how their victims feel!”

“You don’t think you can kill people. Fine. Why not kill people who are causing harm?”

You sprint till you end up in the woods near your house, skidding to a stop when they appear in front of you again.

“I can’t ok!?”

“Look, we understand—”

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand! I’m a good person. I—”

“Miss? Are you okay?” Abruptly turning you find a man, standing a few feet from you with worried eyes. “Do you need help?”

“N-n-no. I’m alright.”

“What about him?”, Eddie gestures. “He’s definitely not a good guy.”

“No!”, you whisper.

“No? Are you sure, miss? My home isn’t too far. I can call a doctor or something.”

Fingers snap and images cloud your brain again.

“He hurts his wife any chance he gets.”, Steve’s voice fills your ears. “Last week she came home from work two minutes too late according to him and he beat her within an inch of her life.”

Something heavy filled your palm as Eddie continued on your other side. “Didn’t even take her to the hospital. She laid there crying for hours till she was finally able to crawl off the floor onto the couch. The next day he took care of her, apologizing.”

“Why do you make me act this way, honey? You know how bad my temper can be.”

“I…I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“I know, baby.”

Anger filled your heart as you swung your arm, trying to get him away from her. The visions left your eyes and as you looked down you saw the man now bleeding on the ground. Your hand holding the now red stained rock shook as you dropped it and ran.

***

As soon as you got back home, you headed straight to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you as you began to pace.

“Way to go, pretty girl!”, Eddie clapped from his sudden spot on your bed.

“One down, two to go.”, Steve followed.

You continued to move as they spoke, not hearing a word they said.

“Hey, hey. Come on now. You did amazing.” The metalhead looking boy reached to touch your hand but as soon as his fingers made contact with your skin, your hand flew out to smack him across the face.

“This is your fault. I didn’t want to do this! I just hurt someone.”

Eddie growled as he rose to his feet and slowly began stepping forward. “No. You didn’t hurt someone. You killed someone. Let’s get that distinction right. Congratulations, sweetheart, you’re one of us.” His chest bumped into yours knocking you back towards the wall, his hand pressing up against it near your head as he glared down at you.

“The only difference is we’ve killed way more people than you can even imagine in so many different ways. In our realm people were afraid of us. Remember that the next time you think about hitting me.” His face leans in so close that his breath hits your lips making you shiver. “I can hurt you and not even think twice.”

Your sudden giggle surprises him as he leans back to look at your face.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh but… you can’t hurt me. He won’t let you.”, you gesture towards Steve who sighs as he folds his arms. “He said he’s supposed to protect me from ANYONE who tries to hurt me, even you.” You tilted your head to the side as you continued. “And people from your realm must not have been that frightened by you if the banished you. Hell, you didn’t even fight back! You ran!”

“I like her.”, Steve smirks as the other man’s own eyes scan you from head to toe. “She kind of reminds me of—”

Eddie raises his palm to silence his friend. “Hit me again.”

“What? You just said…”

“I know what I said. Listen to what I’m saying now. Hit. Me. Again.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, little one. I know you want to. Just like I know you want to fuck me. Well us.”

You laugh at him again but this time it comes out more shaky than earnest. “Pfft, someone has a big ego.”

“That’s not all we have that’s big.”

Pushing him away, you start to head for the door but it’s still being blocked by Steve.

“We are yours for the next 3 weeks. Unless you kill two other people pretty quickly…which, let’s face it, probably won’t happen.” He kicks off the wood with his foot stepping forward as you slowly back away from him. “How long has it been, honey, since anyone has made YOU feel good?”

Abruptly, you run into something hard thinking it’s the adjacent wall before Eddie’s arms wrap around your stomach. You should tell him to stop, tell him to leave you alone and not touch you but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel comfortable in his embrace.

“You took care of your mother when she was sick and now your father. You missed out on opportunities like school and leaving this fucking dreadful town. You work at a job you hate where people degrade you and make you feel worthless. Your last relationship ended because he cheated on you with your coworker yet you still pretend to not know and let her boss you around. Every night you come home and lay in that bed…feeling empty and alone…yet you don’t complain.”

Your head hangs as you try to control the tears from escaping. Fingers snap and you lean back against the other demon’s shoulder as you see the wife of the man you killed grinning as she sits on the floor of her new home cooing at a baby beside her. A man walks in with a wide smile and descends to the woman’s level kissing her lips as she giggles against them.

“You saved her life, Y/N. If she had stayed with her current husband, he would have killed her within 2 years. He’d go to trial but be out of jail within a year due to a good lawyer and an appeal.”, Steve whispers in a soothing voice. “Now, in three years, she meets this new person who makes her feel loved and respected. He never once lays a hand on her and she finally feels safe. She has two kids with him and dies at 80 a few months after he does.”

He snaps his fingers again and your mind clears for a moment before becoming foggy for a different reason as Steve leans down to kiss your forehead. Your entire body lights up at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Is that normal for demons or is it just him?

Soft kisses trail down your jaw till they attach to your neck making you hum in approval. The hands that had been resting on your tummy glide to your jeans and carefully unbutton them before sliding his fingers through the waistband of your panties. The cold metal of his rings startle you slightly as you push your lower half against his.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I got you.”, Eddie whispers. Your arm loops around to cling to his neck as your fingers tangle in his hair. A tiny moan leaves your throat when his thick digits run through your folds. “You are so wet, pretty girl. Let us take care of you. Let us…” You head tilts against his shoulder again as two of his fingers plunge into your core. “…relieve some of this stress you’ve been carrying.”

Steve descended to his knees, tugging your pants and underwear with him, biting his lip at the sight of how his friend’s hand was glistening with your slick. You whined when Eddie removed his fingers only to whimper when it was replaced with the other demon’s exceptionally large tongue.

“Oh my God…”

“No, baby. Don’t say his name. Say ours.”

Your eyes roll back as his lips connect to your throat, sucking on your flesh as your fingers reach down to run through Steve’s hair. The world became hazy around you as his mouth wrapped around your clit while pressing and flicking his tongue in just the right way. Eddie carefully lifted off your shirt and removed your bra, throwing them to the side.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Do you know that?”, he asked as he rest his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your body as his palms roamed purposely avoiding your tits.

“Mmm—how-how many people have you said—fuck—said that to?”

“Steven, she’s still able to form sentences. I think you might be a little rusty, my friend.”, he chuckled.

“Oh…oh God…”, you mewled as he began to lick faster, sliding his fingers into your cunt as he pumped them into you matching his pace.

Eddie grabbed your chin roughly, turning you to face him. “What did I say? You moan our fucking names.”, he snarled through gritted teeth.

“Eddie, stop.”, Steve warned, replacing his tongue with his thumb. They glared at each other but something in his stare scared even you. “Not tonight.”

“I’m…I’m…” Your knees buckled and the demon behind you quickly gripped your body to keep you from hitting the floor as you came harder than you ever had before.

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

As you gradually came down from your high the demon in front you stood up and lightly kissed your lips. A fire ignited in you, through your soul, and straight to your core. Your arms needily wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer, walking with him backwards to the bed till you both fell on to it.

You squeaked when your palm ran down his chest and you realized he was suddenly naked. Steve couldn’t help but laugh at your shock.

“Remember, honey, all of this…”, he gestures at his body. “…is for you. To make you more comfortable. Not that I hate it. I’m kind of growing attached to the hair.” Your eyes closed as he started grinding his cock through your dripping folds. “This part is still me though. Do you want to feel it? Do you want to feel what a demon’s dick can do?”

Nodding, you prepared yourself as you reached around to cling to his shoulders.

“Can you open your eyes for me? I want to watch those beautiful eyes as I stretch you open.”

As soon as you do as he asks, he grins, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it into your entrance. Just the tip of him had your eyebrows furrowing together. He was much bigger than anyone you had ever had and your walls were resisting his size. When he pushed in another inch, your eyes promptly closed again and his angry grumble immediately hit your ears.

“Y/N, what did I say?”

“I’m…I’m sorry. You’re just…you’re so…”

“Look at me.”, he growled and your eyes snap open. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’ve never had a being as tight as you before.” This time he pushes in a little more forcefully making you groan. “We’re going to fucking ruin you for anyone else. Fuck me.”

Your pussy fluttered at his statement and a sinister laugh echoed from them both.

“You like that, baby girl?” Steve’s forehead falls on yours as he finally bottoms out. “You like the sound of us ruining this little pussy? Say it.”, he commands in a firm tone as you nod.

“I want…want you…to…” He nods encouragingly, his nose grazing yours. “To…ruin my—mmm—my pussy.”

His hips roughly roll into yours and your jaw goes slack at the intense pleasure that courses through body.

“Yeah? Ok, pretty girl. We can do that for you.” Steve leans up on to his knees, lifting your left leg up to chest as his palm holds your other open wide against the mattress. His eyes watch his cock as he begins thrusting into you.

Another set of hands suddenly appear and you quickly turn to see Eddie laying by your side as his fingers lightly play with your erect nipples.

“You never answered my question. DO you know how beautiful you are?” He leans to trail kisses along your neck till his lips find your breast and you moan while he flicks against the bud as he closes his mouth around it. “I actually don’t say that to many beings. Personally, I think your kind is terrible.”

Your fingers thread through his hair as his teeth graze the sensitive area causing your hips to buck up as you moaned loudly.

“You have to be quiet, sweetheart. You may be the only one that can see us but everyone can hear you.” Eddie leaned over you like you weren’t even there, picking your panties up off the floor, and shoving them into your mouth.

Smirking, he placed his fingers against his lips in a shushing motion before sliding his palm between your legs and rubbing them against your clit. Steve slammed his hips into yours and the world melted away around you. You felt like you were floating in space and the only thing keeping you grounded was their hands on your body. White light blinded your vision as you screamed which was rapidly muffled more by Eddie’s hand.

“Atta girl, baby. Let go and just feel it.”

Your climax felt like it lasted hours as Steve slowed his pace, thrusting his cock as deep as he could while you came back down to earth. Suddenly, he grunted as you felt warmth coat your insides.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck…your pussy is just begging for more of my cum. You’re clinging to my dick so fucking tight.” He hovered over your twitching frame, pulling the gag out of your mouth as he continued to slowly pump his hips, allowing your quivering hole to milk him. “Such a good girl. A good, beautiful girl. I know, baby. I know. It feels so good, you want more. It’s Eddie’s turn next. He’ll take good care of you just like I did.”

You whimper when he pulls out, sad at the empty feeling before your roughly turned onto your stomach and aggressive hands lift your ass in the air. In your state of bliss, you can’t make out the words entirely but you hear both demons exchange a few words.

“Don’t hurt her…isn’t…like us…”

“Calm…not going to…”

Pushing up on your hands, you feel Eddie press his cock to your entrance before easily pushing himself in, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He was thicker than his friend and even with you and Steve’s most recent orgasm leaking out of you, there was still resistance within your cunt.

“Y/N, fuck, sweetheart. Steven, how—mmm—how did you control yourself from not just fucking pounding her into the mattress?” Your pussy fluttered at the thought and he groaned as he leaned his chest down against your back. “Yeah? You like the sound of that? Steve thinks—mmm—we need to be gentle with you.” As his breath warmed your ear, he thrust his hips, pushing himself as far into you as your bodies would allow.

“Naw… you’ve been careful your whole life, haven’t you? You just want to…to let go and be fucked so hard—damn—you forget how unhappy you really are.”

When your only response was your moans, he pushed off your chest and held your hips as he thrust into you. Eddie’s fingers harshly kneaded the flesh of your ass before occasionally slapping it making you mewl. Once again, it was like time and matter evaporated except for you and them. With each slap and thrust, you felt like you could see into another world; a better one.

Your hair was abruptly tugged, yanking you to your knees as his ringed hand held you tightly. As your head tilted to the side, you noticed his eyes were closed as his face scrunched in pleasure. For a second, you forgot who they were and what they were here for. He seemed like any normal man just trying to make you feel good. Your lips moved towards him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek causing his eyes to fly open and look your way.

Eddie’s movements slowed as he scanned your face, trying to get a read on you. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t like humans. He struggled to find any real good within them and quite frankly they reminded him of some of the lower level demons he fought back home. You seemed different than everyone else, you reminded him of her.

He shook the images from his head, pushing your upper half back down against the mattress where you found yourself face to face with Steve. His fingers delicately pushed your hair out of your face before he softly slid them down your skin, reaching under your body and between your legs to rub your clit.

“Cum again, Y/N. You can do it.” He grabs your panties and places it in your mouth again. “There you go, honey. Go ahead and scream. It’s ok.”

His palm firmly covers your mouth as you see that light once more, blinding you as you shriek and moan into your gag as your orgasm shutters through you.

“Fuck, baby. Yes.”, Eddie grunts as he holds your hips tighter, pumping his hips faster.

“Good girl. I know. I know, sweetie. You did so well. You deserved this. Can you say that for me?”, he asks as he tosses your underwear back to the floor.

“I…I deserve…this.”, you pant.

Your body jerks forward as Eddie gives you a few more rough thrusts and you feel his seed spill into you. Like his friend, he continues small pumps to make sure he fully empties into your pussy. Whimpering, he pulls out of your now aching core and collapses beside you. He twirls his fingers and a cigarette appears between them as he quickly lights it, blowing smoke towards the ceiling.

“Y/N, are you okay?”, Steve asks as he rolls you onto your back and caresses your cheek. You mumble something he can’t hear as your heavy eye lids close. Rolling over to face Eddie, you intertwine your fingers with the free hand that’s between you as you push your back into the other demon’s chest behind you. It startles them both as they exchange a glance.

Usually, the beings that summoned them wanted to get things over with as quickly as possible. When they were sexual with them, the summoner was a willing participant but was never intimate. They were demons who were going to leave them after they completed the task anyway so what was the point?

Your lips moved again and Eddie tossed his cigarette into a void before turning to face you, placing his palm on your side.

“Can you hear what she’s saying?”, Steve asked.

The other demon nods as he heavily sighs, pulling your blankets up over your waist.

“She said ‘thank you’.”

563 notes · View notes

matan4il · 7 months

Text

Daily update post:

A pro-Israel protester, 69 years old Paul Kessler, who suffered a hit to the head on Sunday during an altercation with an anti-Israel protester, passed away the next day from his injuries. His death was determined a homicide caused by blunt head trauma. There are differing accounts on what happened, but one friend said Paul wasn't ever violent, while more than one person mentioned he was hit on the head with a megaphone by the anti-Israel protester. There is footage of an anti-Israel protester continuing to chant slogans next to the blood stains on the ground, even as a police officer asks him to step away from what at that point was an active crime scene:

The Jewish community is asking for anyone with footage of what happened to send it in. Police says it will look into the angle of this being a hate crime. This is the last pic of Paul before the altercation:

Someone decided to test whether people actually understand what they're supporting, when they're supporting Hamas:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Haim Etgar (@haimetgar1)

instagram

Now that the IDF is controlling the main road from northern to southern Gaza, it took out Hamas' blockades, and it announces daily when Palestinians can move on this road to the south, to a safer area. This means more Palestinians are evacuating the war zone. Hamas has instructed people NOT to spread the footage showing that this passage southwards is safe.

Many Hamas terrorists who were caught alive in Israel's territory after the massacre, had been arrested and interrogated. The other day, for the first time, two Hamas terrorists who were among the perpetrators of the massacre and had fled back to Gaza, were caught by the IDF, arrested and brought to Israel for interrogation.

While Hamas continues to fire rockets without stop at Israel, the daily number has decreased. Analysts estimate that this is thanks to the IDF's extensive activity in Gaza.

Since the debate over whether the chant "From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free" is genocidal, a lot of Arabic-speaking Israelis have started pointing out that the original version in Arabic explicitly states, "From the water (river) to the water (sea), Palestine will be Arab" which is at the very least a call to ethnic cleansing.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Adiel Cohen | עדיאל | عديئيل (@adielofisrael)

instagram

Yarden Haskin's husband, Alon Maor, came to visit him at his army base. A friend took this picture of them:

Yarden decided to send it to an Israeli journalist (from a religious background), who has been publishing pics and stories sent to him by regular Israelis. The pic went viral, Yarden and Alon have been interview for TV news (Yarden from his army base, Alon from home), and friends even shared some of their wedding pics:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Instagram

226 notes · View notes

grugruel · 7 months

Text

Lust for Vampyr

Pairings: Paul Hill x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A new handsome priest arrives at Crockett Island and youre desperate for his attention, but when he seems to be avoiding you, you do the only logical thing. Show up at his door

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: Blasphemy, age-gap (reader over 20), oral sex (f! receving), pinv sex, rough sex, praise kink, slight thigh kink? Little bit of edging and cock-warming, tasting of blood (vampire shenanigans), PRIEST KINK.

Id never really found any interest in attending mass, despite my parents insistent attempts to drag me along. I had been watching the old monsignor preach for years now until he left for his pilgrimage, leaving a blank spot for a new priest to take his place.

Paul Hill had he called himself, and it was like lightning struck. All of a sudden I had a new fevor for the faith and although I had moved out long ago, my parents were thrilled to say the least. Little did they know though, that a fire had stirred within me. I started with innocent glances, admiring him from a far, telling myself it was just because of his enthusiastic way of preaching. But then getting a thing for his tall stature, big hands and stark black hair. He had me cleching my thighs together as I sat next to my parents in the church pews.

He made me want to confess my every sin to him and eventually I did, when I grew desperate enough. Just for the chance to hear him breath in that quiet intimate way I had begun to crave.

We had met briefly, just to introduce ourselves, but thats it. I wanted to talk to him more though, learn more about him. So I started lingering after mass, telling my parents to go on ahead without me just so I could get a word with the new father. But he usually dissapered into thin air before I got the chance, seemingly avoiding me like the black death.

Which Is how I ended up in my current situation. It was after the usual mass, I had dressed extra nicely tonight. I was standing in the cold on the fathers poarch, knocking on the rectory door in my fancy dress, black tights and mary janes.

I felt out of place, I know I shouldnt be here for this reason, I know I shouldnt have dressed nice in an effort to seduce a man of the church. Shame crept up my cheeks, coloring them a bright red. But I heard shuffling behind the door, then footsteps coming toward me and immedietly regretted my decision.

What was I doing? This is so stupid, hes going to send me away, direct me back to my parents like a lost child. My thoughts came to a sudden halt when the door finally opened, and there he stood. Father Paul.

He was in his regular black shirt and white collar, wearing his tight jeans. His eyebrows rose when he saw me, 'Ah' he sighed, as if expecting me but surprised none the less.

'Father.' I greeted, smiling faintly, 'Youre a busy man, you always disappear after mass, its hard to find time to talk with you.' I told him, he smiled apologetically 'Unfortunately yes, Ive had some urgent business to atend to lately, its taken up all my past time.' He explained as his gaze trailed down my body, eyes lingering on my thighs, 'I- uhm. . .' he shook his head, completley lost in thought when a particularly chilly breeze blew by. He shuddered, apparently noticing the cold for the first time, which managed to break him out of his trance and making him pay attention to my own shivers. Noting the goosebumps lining my arms and collarbones. He met my gaze again, hestitating slightly before moving out of the way 'Its freezing, please do come in.' He said, smiling cheapishly. 'Thank you.' I whispered as I passed him, intentionally brushing against his arm and hoping that he would catch a whiff of my perfume.

He closed the door behind us and made his way to the kitchen, 'Tea?' He asked.

'Yes please.' I answered and he smiled to himself, pleased with my manners. He gestured to the armchair in the middle of the room, 'Please, sit.' He urged me, then put a kettle of water on. I nodded and sat down, crossing my legs.

We waited on our opposite ends of the room, an akward silence settling over us. Finally though, the wistle of the kettle rang through the rectory and he made us two cups and sat down on the sofa opposite me. He handed me my cup and our fingers brushed as I took it, our eyes met, lingering on eachother. But he cleared his throat and looked away, 'So what brings you here?' He questioned.

I rested the cup in my lap as I tried to come up with an appropriate answer. 'We havent peoperly met, I suppose. . I simply wished to get to know you a bit better.' I said shyly.

He smiled, 'Well ofcourse, thats reasonable enough. Did you have any specific questions in mind?' He asked, sipping his tea.

I blanked completley, what was my plan here? 'I- No, not really. Uhm.' I stumbled ahead blindley.

He chuckled, 'Youre never this nervous in confessional are you.'

My face lit up in shame, averting my faze from him 'Well father, I suppose it gets easier in the dark.' I said, sipping my tea nervously.

He chuckled, 'I suppouse it would yes.'

I nodded gravely, looking back at him and found that his eyes had drifted to my body. It took me by surpise, but pleased me grately, 'Father?' I asked, trying to get his attention.

'Mmhm?' He hummed distantly, not taking his eyes off of me. Perhaps I wasnt so far off in coming here after all, my tights and skirt seemed to be working. Gaining some confidence, I uncrossed my legs and his gaze followed them intently. God, all he needed to was look at me and I was his, completley and utterly. In a sudden surge of brazenness, I let the cup rest in my lap again, clutched in my hands. Then spread my legs wider and slid the cup between my thighs, still in my grip, so that the view of my panties was blocked by that alone.

His bresthing stuttered, a made a sound that was barely a gasp. He rubbed his hands over his face and combed them through his hair in an effort to collect himself. But it did not work, he felt himself being affect by you, in the same way he was everytime he saw you. Which Is why he had to run off, why he had to keep his distance from you.

He sank further into the sofa, liftning his lap to adjust his position and then sat back down. I practically drooled at the sight, a tingling sensation pulsing through my core. I had to close my eyes for a few seconds, making an effort to think straight, at least until the feeling had calmed down and I could talk freely again. I moved my gaze back onto him and our eyes met, communicating with eachother, exchaning desires we could never say aloud.

Both a bit distracted by eachother, I decided to take the bull by its horns, 'Listen, father. I-' I began, but he shut me down instantly.

'Dont-' he said, holding his hand out to stop me, 'I know. . . I know.'

My mouth fell open in shock and I scrambled for an excuse, but I could not find the words. Shame tainting my tounge. 'Ive tried to stay away, but youre persistent. And I told myself that you must be a trial from god, tempting me, testing my faith.' he said, sitting up straighter and looking into my eyes.

'A trial that I will undoubtedly fail.' he confessed. Relief surged through me, he did want me. I reached out to lay a hand on his knee, but he jumped up, walking backward until he hit the kitchen counter. He leaned against it and crossed his arms, ensuring that they could not reach for me. He was fighting his urges, his own body was betraying him. I stood up, walking around to sofa to meet him, but he shook his head 'No, NO!' he shouted, making flinch in response to his sudden outburst.

'Im sorry, but this- this cannot happen.' He gestured between us, 'Whatever this is.' he sighed desperately and I stopped in my tracks, because I knew he was right. But he was just meters away from me, he was in my vecinity. Free to do with me however he pleased, if he pleased.

I whined at the thought, beacuse it could never happen. I grabbed the back of the sofa and bent down to rest my forehead against it, in a desperate attempt to collect my thoughts. A quiet complain reverberated through my body, "Why did it have to be a priest?" I bashed myself, a whine escaping me as I shook my head slowly. I slid forward, resting my elbows on the sofa so that my hands were free to hide my face. If only I could turn invisible, just disappear. But I was too painfully aware of his looming prescence to escape the moment, he kept a safe distance, occupied with battling his own thoughts.

I burned hot, terribly hot, my face ablaze from the shame of my indecent thoughts and actions, in stark contrast to my body which was only lubricated by them. Every single nerve-ending was tingling in reaction of what I craved.

I was trying, but failing very badly to calm myself, when there was movement in my peripheral, it happened so quickly that I was sure I had imagined it. But it was too late either way, because he had appeared behind me. All I noticed was a small gush of air and then he was pushed up against me, hips to ass and I involuntairily froze.

A shuddering gasp came form behind me as he lrt go of his restrictipns and his hands made contact with my skin, one hand moved to hold my hip while the other explored the dip of my lower back, testing its limits. He rubbed a few slow cicles with his thumb onto my skin, seamingly mesmerized by the goosebumps that rose. He stopped, for only a moment and then flattened his hand against the small of my back. He pushed downward with his palm and as if he'd found a hidden button, my back arched, and my breathing faltered. It was as if god himself had touched me and I had to bite my cheek to stop from moaning.

A low intake of breath could be heard from behind me, as if astonished by what he could accomplish. And as he kept the hand on my lower back pushed against me, he strengthened his grip on my hip and pulled me closer to him. When completley flush, I felt him again. But this time, there was an evident hardness in his jeans and I moaned reflexively, I couldnt help myself. How could I be excpected to? The priest of Crockett Island himself was hard, for me. How I did not scream and beg for him to tear me apart right there is beyond me.

He hissed in response to the friction that the thin fabric of my dress created against the rough fabric of his tight jeans. I tried griding against him with what little movement his hold allowed me, which earned me a displeased grunt and smack on the ass in punishment. I had to cover my mouth as another moan threatened to escape me.

Visions of everything I've dreamed of him to do to me flashed through my mind, things I've only ever imagined while touching myself. My entire skin was on fire as I tried to collect myself, scarcly succeding. I could only manage a single word.

'Father?' whispering it quietly, I turned my head a sliver, as far as I dared. It was enough to make out his disheveld state, chest heaving from supressing his heavy breathing, his usually perfect hair fallen in stressed strands over his forehead, his shirtsleeves carelessly folded and rolled up, showing his forearms. Such simple things drove me absolutley feral, I had to restrain myself from shaking in anticipation of his next move, barely daring to move in fear of him retracting from me.

But he never moved and everything was quiet apart from his shuddering breaths, a result of him fighting his most carnal desires. I wanted to touch him, to caress his beautiful face, to feel his skin under my fingers, and although I loved the shallow feeling my impact had on him, I wanted it deeper. So despite my better judgement, I straigthened my arms and moved to stand up and turn to him. But he quickly stopped me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and thrust my body forward into the sofa, my hips colliding with the back of it as he shoved my face into the pillows, cushioning the force of it.

He hadnt wanted me to see him like that, as if I saw him it would all become real. His desires, his unholy thoughts, his betrayal of god. But I did not care, I had crossed that point a long time ago.

'Father, please.' I begged, voice muffled by the pillows. And there was a slow realisation in his movements as he loosened his grip on me and stepped back. Confusion crowded my already full mind, as he began rubbing the back of his head in distress, turmoil brewed inside of him.

'Im so sorry' he whispered. Oh. . . Poor father, he mustve thought I was begging him to stop. 'Please forgive me, I dont know what came over me. I would never want to hurt you, please know that.' he rambeled, meeting my eyes, begging for for my forgiveness.

I stood up, shaking my head in dissmissal as I made my way to the light switch, turning it off, darkness enveloping us. I searched for soothing words to reassure him, 'You could never hurt me father, im yours.' I said and made my way through the darkness to him, trying to locate him from memory, I reached out blindley in an effort to avoid colliding with something but he met me half way, seeing my struggle.

I did not question it as he laced his fingers with mine and led them to his chest, making my heart skip a beat. I slowly traced my hands upward until I felt his face, enjoying everything my working senses had to offer me. His scent and the feeling of his soft shirt and skin. I placed my hands on either side of his face, cradeling him 'Take me now, in the dark.' I said carefully and stod on my tiptoes.

I leaning into him and as he did not retreat, I kissed him once, tenderly. 'Nobody but us will know' I whispered against his lips, then moved to kiss his jaw, feeling him relax under my touch.

'We will repent in the morning' I assured him and then quated myself, '"It gets easier in the dark"' I found his hands, and moved them to my breasts 'Take me now.'

This time, father Paul did not hesitate. He squeezed my breasts as he met my lips forcefully, kissing and biting me like a starved man. One of his hans dove behind my back, while the other found purchase under my ass. He hoisted me up into his arms in one quick motion, I gasped, surpised by his strength.

He walked me to the armchair, setting me down in it and kneeling in fornt of me. He spread my legs with his strong hands, and laid them on each thigh, squeezing hard. His hands slid up my thighs until they met the hem of my dress. He met my eyes, asking for reassurance and I nodded enthusiatically, giving it to him. He continued moving his hands upward, the dress catching on his wrists and follows his movements. He leaned closer, kissing a trail along the inside of my thigh until he came to my core. He ripped my thights open and moved my pantied to the side, and as he already had me go-ahead, he dove right in. I gasped as he made contact with my core, his tounge thrusting inside of me. Tasting my very being, he moved one of his hands to my clit, attacking it feverishly as the other stayed squeezing the soft flesh of my thigh. He was feral, and I loved it. He hummed as he ate me out, absolutley loving every second of it. My moans became needy and high pitched as I grabbed his hair to shove closer, he did not protest. I came hard and fast, closing my eyes as white light blinded my vision, making me dizzy. As I opened my eyes again the room was spinning, and the father sat proud infront of me grinning. 'Youre doing so good, my girl.' He said and rose up to kiss me, I could only manage a smile. To lost in pleasure to do anything else.

He picked me up and walked me to the sofa, laying me down on top of it and puttin almost all of his weight on me. He rested his forearm close to my head, letting it support his weight and tangling his hand in my hair, grabbing it and gently pulling my head to the side. While the other hand traced down my shoulder and lowered the strap of my dress, to gain easier access to my breast, then kneading it greadily. His lips moved from my mouth and kissed their way down to my neck, sucking and licking at that tender spot above my collarbone. I moaned reflexively, which only spurred him on further. His hips were moving against mine, enthusiastically and rythmically with the rest of his body. Our closeness made his clothed erection rubb against my core perfectly. I moved my legs to stradle him, tightening the grip and bringing him even closer to me, then rutting my hips against him. The friction was delicious and that paired with the fathers delerious assault on my neck, his breath hot against my skin and his moans vibrating through me, had me close to coming undone right then and there.

My hands had found their way to his back, scratching and pulling at the fabric, but it wasnt enough. I moved my hands to unbutton his shirt, but struggled due to our position. I grew tired and greedy from not succeeding, so I removed his colar and tore his shirt open, yanking it down his shoulders, but did not manage to get it further. Displeased about ruining his shirt, he bit me, once, hard enough to draw blood. I gasped and he stopped, removing his hand from my breast and slid it to my neck, coating his fingers in my blood. Stunned silence had settled over us, apart form our unanimous labored breathing. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting my blood and it was like he became a whole other person. If lust had not driven him before, it did now. I found it strange, but was to mesmerized by the moment to question it. He stood up, resting one knee on the sofa between my legs and began unbuckling his belt. I bit my lip from anticipation, the sight driving me mad, he looked positively devine. 'Have you done this before?' He asked me, I nodded my head in response, 'Have you, father?' He did not answer, his eyes were just drinking me in.

'Touch yourself.' He ordered, and I wasted no time. I moved my hands down my body, lifting the skirt of my dress with one hand and shoving the other down my panties, sliding it inside me to wet it then circling my clit in slow deliberate motions.

'Oh. . . ' he shook his head, 'Good girl' he praised in a shallow whisper, he looked at me like I was no longer a test from god, but a gift. He moaned as I touched myself, surely I was a sight in itself, my breast out, the skirt shoved up over my thighs and hips and my chest heaving from breathing heavily as he was towering over me. His tussled hair and shirt pulled down beneath his shoulders, exposing his chest and collarbones, his veiny hands working his belt. I closed my eyes as I felt myself coming close, and the sound of him drove me further. The belt buckle clanging, a zipper opening and the rustling fabric of clothes falling to the floor was erotic in a way I never could have suspected. White dots were specking the darkness of my eyelids, and a spring was tightening deep in my stomache. My breathing became frantic as I envisioned the father inside of me. I was a second away, when he snatched my hand out of my panties and I whined in frustration, the specks darkened and I felt moving around me.

I opened my eyes and he was below me, stark naked, holding my hand to his face and licking my slickness from my fingers much like he had done with my blood. 'Beautiful angel, you taste divine.' He sighed.

I moved the hand he was holding the caress his face 'Please father, I cannot wait any longer'. And he odded, sliding his hands under me and lifting my hips to pull my dress upward, once he'd done that I sat up to help him pull the dress over my head. He then lowered himself on top of me, pushing me back into the sofa and resuming his previous position.

'Im yours, only yours father.' I whispered and he kissed me tenderly as his hand traced down my body, feeling every curve on the waw down and pulled my panties to the side. He lined himself up with my entrance, teasing my opening by sliding himself through my folds. My breath caught, 'Please, please, please.' I whined desperstley, begging seemed to be the only thing I was capable of around him.

He suddenly slid inside and we gasped in unisome, our eyes met and we stayed like that for a while. No one moved, no one talked, we just admired eachother silently while he let me adjust to his size. He raised his eyebrows, as if asking for consent and I nodded eagerly, pecking him on the lips. He slid out of me completley, confusing me terribly and I desperatly clung my arms around his shoulders, burrying my hands in his hair to make him stay. But he only chuckled in response and kissed my arm lovingly, then slammed back into me. Setting a brutal pace, almost knocking the air out of my lungs.

I could not tell whos moans belonged to who, but amidst the frenzy he gave me a few short kisses on the lips in reassurance, then nuzzled his nose against my cheek and moved his forehead to the crook of my neck, whispering against my skin 'Youre doing so good, sweet girl.' His sweet words were a stark contrast to his hard, fast thrusts.

A few hours ago I was nervously getting ready for mass, dressing nicely in hope of the new priests approval, and now hes ballsdeep inside me.

He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it in fast circles. I covered my mouth with one hand as a scream threatened to escape me, while the other tore into his back, leaving long red scratch marks and he hissed into my neck. Enjoying every part of the pain and pleasure mixing with eachother.

He straigthened his arm to sit back anf change position, but never relenting his pace. He raised my hips onto his thighs, placing one hand on my waist in a grip that will be leaving bruises on my skin, and pushing the other hand down on my abdomen while still circling my clit with his thumb. His thrusts hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl and it all became quite overwhelming, about to push me over the edge.

'Im- Im close' I managed inbetween breaths and he hummed, nodding as his own movements became irregular. I grabbed onto the cushions for dear life as I was tipping over the edge, electricity sparked between us, and all of a sudden I felt thunder tearing through me and he collappsed on top of me. His thrusts slowed down, allowing me to ride through my high.

'Good girl' he sighed and kissed my forehead as his ruts came to a stop and pride surged thorugh me.nHe stayed inside me, laying comfortably with me as oour breaths calmed together. I could feel his seamen sippering out of me, and I loved it. Because it was him.

'Will you stay with me tonight?' He asked.

'If you'll have me.' I answered, smiling as he kissed my lips.

#paul hill #father paul hill #father paul #hamish linklater #midnight mass #father paul smut #paul hill smut #john pruitt #monsignor pruitt #john pruitt smut #priest kink #paul hill x reader #father paul x reader

210 notes · View notes