#��� silver's sinful sunday ☆

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

☆ Silver's Sinful Sunday ☆

Week Four: Azriel

Warnings: 18+ [MDNI], enemies with benefits (mates), fem reader, choking, p in v, reader is kinda a brat, dominant Azriel, no use of Y/N, pet names, slight angst at the end, it's my writing — that's a warning within itself (cringe), all actions are with consent ofc

A/N— Week four was originally Vox (Hazbin Hotel). Refer to this post for the reason why it's not. Azriel was intended to be week five, but he's been moved to week four. The style for this one is also a little different than the others. . . Oopsies. . . Your honor, they're actually in love with each other but they're idiots. . .

Word Count: 2.8K

“Let me in.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine despite the massive argument the two of you had been in less than an hour ago. It was over something so petty that you didn't even remember what it was about, but you were still heated over it.

The anger simmered just beneath the surface, a feeling only he could evoke. It both drove you wild and pissed you off at the exact same time. 

“I know you're in there. Let me in.”

After every argument, Azriel found his way to your door. After every argument, it always ended the same way. There were never apologies. Apologies didn't exist between the two of you. The thought of one alone was highly amusing.

You reached the door with a scowl, twisting the brassy colored knob in your firm grasp. The door swung open, revealing the very male you knew it'd be.

His gaze roamed unabashedly over your form. From your hair to the silken midnight blue nightgown that hugged your curves in all the right places, all the way to the soft glow of your skin in the warm light of your bedroom.

“What?” You hissed, eyes narrowing.

He hummed approvingly, noting how you were still heated from the argument. “Are you going to let me in, or just glare at me?” His voice was deep and raspy, telling you everything you needed to know. The reason why he'd come, just like the other times.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, turning on your heel to return to your vanity. The door was left wide open; Azriel stepped in, shutting and locking the door behind him, watching closely as you walked away from him.

“Do you have any idea how mad you made me out there?” Azriel asked as he walked towards you, his steps quick, but quiet. His body moved with ease, like a prowling animal, every muscle rippling with every step.

“You started it. You pissed me off.” You sharply bit back, stopping in front of the mirror to take off the last remnants of the lipstick that Mor had wanted you to try because she thought it would look good on you. She was right, as usual.

He came up behind you, his large frame towering over you in the mirror. Azriel's hands landed on your hips, pinning you against the vanity in front of you. His hard chest pressed against your back, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “I may have started it, but you don't know when to shut your little mouth.”

"I thought you liked my mouth wide open." You snapped with a small, barely noticeable rumble of a growl, glaring at him in the mirror as he pressed against you. 

He chuckled and he slid his large hand up your body, gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, his hand almost covering your entire neck.

"I do. But I also like it when you're a good little princess and shut up and listen. I like it when you're good for me." He moved his other hand, letting it run over your thigh.

He moved his lips over your neck, letting his tongue trail over your sensitive skin, feeling your pulse in his hand. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before you open that pretty mouth of yours to say something you'll know will piss me off, hm?"

His hand on your thigh moved higher, letting his hand slide under the fabric of your nightgown, running his hand over the smooth skin of your hip.

“Don't act like you don't fucking love it.” You growled, fighting the urge to react to his touch. He didn't deserve to see you melt into his touch. Ha. No.

A dark chuckle fell from his lips, his breath warm on your skin. “You're right. It makes it more fun when I shut you up. . . I like it when you can't hide how much you want me.” His teeth grazed your neck. 

“Go fuck yourself.”

A low chuckle came from him again, he didn't expect anything different from you. You were stubborn and defiant. But he liked it, loved it even. You were the only one who dared to talk back to him, to fight and argue with him. It drove him crazy.

"Such a filthy little mouth." His hand fell from your throat and he spun you around to face him, lifting you up, sitting you on the vanity and standing in between your thighs.

His hands ran up your thighs, his hands disappearing under the fabric of your nightgown, gripping your hips and tugging you closer against his front. He moved his lips to your ear again, his chest now pressed up against yours as his breathing quickened.

"You know, for someone who was so angry a moment ago, you seem to be enjoying my touch now. Your breathing, the way your heart is racing, the way your legs are opened wide for me.”

You growled at the clear smugness in his tone, your eyes narrowing into a glare once the brief shock from his quick movements wore away.

"You know, your little growl sounds more like a moan to me, love." He grabbed your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward, pressing his hips against yours so you could feel how hard he already was. His mouth moved down your neck again, gently nipping and sucking your skin.

"You can stay defiant, but your body is telling a different story.”

Your slender fingers gripped the collar of his clothes and forced him to look at you as your legs locked around his waist, pulling him closer. "Stop. Playing. Games. Azriel." You snarled.

He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him as he stared down at you with his darkened gaze. He leaned close, his lips hovering just inches away from yours. "Why don't you just admit you want me, princess?” 

"Maybe I should just go ask Cassian if he'd want to —”

The moment you mention Cassian's name, something snapped inside of him. His grip on you tightened, and he let out a low possessive growl. His hand slid up, wrapping around your neck. "Not. A. Chance. He's not allowed anywhere near you, do you understand me?”

"It seems I've struck a nerve." You spat, a dark grin spreading across your face as you stared up at him.

He let out a low growl, his grip on your throat tightening a bit more. "Cassian won't be able to give you what you need, sweetheart. I know how much you want me right now, and deep down, you know you can't deny it. You're mine."

His hips ground against yours, making you feel the further evidence of how much he wanted you. "You're mine, princess. Say it.”

“Choke.” You muttered darkly.

His hand tightened around your throat, constricting it in a way that had you releasing a soft moan despite the glare set on your face.

He chuckled again, watching that expression on your face. "I can tell how much you want this." His voice was low and gravelly against your ear. His hips continued to grind against yours, putting just the right amount of pressure where you wanted it.

You groaned, which turned into an almost embarrassingly needy moan very quickly. You glared harder, hating the way he reduced you to a writhing mess so easily. . . Knowing what was imminent, you reached down and began unlacing his pants at a tantalizing slow pace.

The fabric came loose in your grasp and he immediately shed them, along with his underwear, tossing them somewhere in the room before he slid a hand back under the hem of your nightgown, expecting to meet the lace fabric of your panties. He let out a low growl when, instead of fabric, his hand immediately met your slick folds. 

You gasped softly as he ran a finger through them before gently thrusting two fingers into you, while his thumb rubbed gently on your clit, his other hand finding its way back to your throat as if it was magnetic. 

He moved his hand in a steady rhythm, listening to the sweet sounds you tried and failed to stifle. 

“You're so desperate for me, aren't you? You need me, don't you?” 

You could only moan softly as his fingers curled deliciously within you.

“Say it. Say you need me. Say you're mine.” 

"Yours." You gasped out a moan. "I'm all yours — GODS, I need you, Az. . ."

He loved hearing those words from you, loved hearing you admit how much you needed him. . . Loved seeing you completely surrendering yourself to him. "Good girl. That's it, princess. I'm the only one who can make you feel like this.”

He dipped his head down, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin on your neck, as his hand continued to move in that steady rhythm between your thighs. "You're all mine, princess. No one else gets to touch you, to make you needy and desperate for release like this. Say it. Tell me you're mine.”

"I'm yours." You moaned, your hips bucking slightly, seeking more friction than what he was giving you. 

You hated how in control he was.

You hated the way his fingers alone made the heat within you build, threatening to snap.

You hated the way you didn't really hate any of it.

He grinned as he continued to leave marks on your neck, moving down to your chest. "Louder, princess. I want you to say it, louder. I want you to admit how much you need me." His hand between your legs moved faster, applying more pressure, knowing it will drive you crazy.

You let out a loud, needy moan. "Need you so bad, Az. . . So bad. . . Please. . !" You gasped.

You needed him. You hated how much you needed him, but at the end of the day, the two of you were mates, destined to be, and maybe, just maybe, the harsh words exchanged could turn into soft, reassuring words. . . Unlikely, but possible. . . Maybe. 

"Good girl. That's it, princess. I like it when you're needy like this. I love knowing that you're all mine. I love hearing you begging for me." He says against your chest, his mouth moving down to one of your sensitive mounds. He continued to suck and lick, his hand between your legs still moving steadily, but he could feel how eager you were, how impatient you were getting. "Be a good girl for me, princess. Tell me what you want. You need to ask for it.”

“Fuck me, Az. . . Please. . .”

He chuckled, a low, possessive growl coming from his chest. There was an intense look on his face as he slowly moved his hands away from their placements — stealing his fingers away from your core before you could come around them —  gently grabbing you by the hips and pulling you forward off the vanity. With ease, he pushed you up against the wall next to the mirror, pressing himself against you.

He moved his hips forward, letting you feel how hard you made him, letting you feel how much he'd been wanting you. "I'm going to make you remember who you belong to. Who you've always belonged to." He looked into your eyes, his expression full of desire and possession, a hint of a smirk on his face.

You glared slightly but gasped softly as he pressed forward, entering you inch by inch. 

He let his mouth roam over your neck again, moving down to the top of your chest, gently nipping and sucking on the skin, leaving marks that would be visible in the morning. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, keeping you in place as he slowly moved in and out of you.

"You're mine, princess. You're mine, not only in this room, but out there too. Everyone needs to know who you belong to.”

"Fuck you." You ground out, fighting back a moan at how he was making you feel. But the moan spilled out anyway.

He grinned against your skin, knowing he was getting to you. "That's it, princess. You can try and be defiant, but you'll eventually break. You'll break for me, like you always do. That mouth of yours is always going to end up wide open, just for me, whether you admit it or not." He moved his head up, looking into your eyes, his intense stare holding you captive.

You moaned as he hit a certain spot before growling and capturing his lips in a fiery, lustful kiss. It was new territory, but something within you told you to do it. . . Perhaps it was that taunting golden string tethering your souls together. . . Or maybe you just wanted him to shut the fuck up.

He quickly took control of the kiss, pushing your head up against the wall as he dominated you. His hips moved harder and faster against yours, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room, combining with the sound of your and his moans.

"You're mine, princess. No one else can make you feel like this.”

You knew without a doubt in your mind that he was right. No one could. No one would.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you, watching your face twist into ecstasy and pleasure, hearing your moans and sounds fill the room. He loved how shamelessly you gave yourself over to him, how you couldn't fight it, no matter how much you'd tried before. He loved how you were his.

He moved his hands from your hips, one gripping your neck again, his fingers lightly closing around your throat, the other moving to your thigh, hitching your leg up over his hip, giving him a deeper angle to work with.

Your eyes rolled back as you moaned louder. Gods, he knew your body far too well. Your desires. Just the right way to push your buttons — just the right angle to thrust mercilessly into you. 

He loved the sound of your moans, the way your body was responding to him, the way your eyes rolled back when he pushed you right to the edge. He knew you better than anyone else, and he loved that he had this power over you, that you willingly gave into that power, even if you didn't like it a few minutes ago. He knew you needed this, just as much as he needed you. 

He leaned forward, whispering against your ear, his voice low and gruff. "You're mine... say it. I want to hear you say it, princess.”

"Shut up." You moaned out with a slight groan.

He chuckled against your skin. You could always try to resist him, but you'd never be able to win. He loved how stubborn you were, but he also loved being able to take that stubbornness away from you, to make you completely surrender to him.

"You just can't help defying me, can you, princess? But then again, I know exactly how to set you straight, don't I?" He tightened the grip around your neck, his fingers pressing against your pulse point, knowing how wild it would make you. 

"Fuck — I'm yours." You moaned pathetically. "I fucking hate you, but I'm yours. . .”

"That's right, princess. You're mine. Now, and always. You can hate me and fight me all you want, but deep down, you know that you belong with me..” He continued to move against you, faster and harder, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He moved his hand down, his thumb gently tracing slow circles against your clit, adding even more sensation and pleasure. 

You knew he could tell you were close. He always could. The way your breath caught. The way you subtly met his thrusts. The way you clenched around him so sinfully and your eyes fluttered closed.

"Give in, princess. Let yourself go. Let yourself feel all of this.”

Then pleasure crashed into you as the steadily growing, hot coil snapped and you fell over the edge right into an orgasm, your breathing heavy as you slowly began coming down from the high.

Seeing you completely lose yourself sent him over the edge, his release intense and powerful, his body going taut as he let himself go inside you, his forehead falling against yours as he leaned against you, trying to catch his breath.

He took a few moments to regain his bearings, his body still pressed up against yours as his hands gently held your hips, still holding you in place.

There was some part of you that wanted to ask him to stay, but as he slowly separated the two of you, setting your feet back on the smooth hardwood floor with shaky legs, before going to locate his clothes that he had hastily discarded in the heat of the moment, you knew this was how it was. 

He dressed, sparing a quick glance back at you before leaving your room. Wordlessly. Leaving you with his cum slowly spilling out of you. . . You also knew that you'd have to start another argument with him tomorrow. . . Just so you could have him close again.

Because even you knew that you didn't truly hate him.

[byfulcrums]

Fucking around with the HSR text thingy

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Better be fucked well in this marriage or I'm throwing hands

You’re getting married to your Tumblr pfp how fucked are u

[ncttytrack]

Sinful - s.j (m)

It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea.

Summary: Your church counselor , Jake Sim, makes you feel stuff you never felt before. Are you strong enough to resist the temptation or will you let the sin of lust take over you?

Genre: SMUT, Churchboy!Jake x reader

Words: 3k+

Warnings: Agegap (Reader is 19 and Jake is 22), cry kink, creampie, slapping, chocking, slut shaming, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader

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You lean against the bus window, looking out at all the trees passing before you. It’s in the middle of summer, and your mom decided to pack your bags and forcefully send you away to a church camp for kids your age. You are nineteen years old, old enough to make your own decisions, but not according to your mom, using the argument that she is your parent and that you should respect her. What about her respecting you? At least you weren’t going to this camp with strangers, the others were a part of your Sunday church group that you attended to church with every week. The bus is completely cramped, and out of curiosity, you look around only to get eye contact with one of your church concealers, Jake. He smiles when he sees you looking at him, which makes you quickly look away.

Jake was not your average church-boy, you knew that. He was hot, super hot. And not to forget to mention, he was young too, almost too young - only being 22 years old. He was older than you but still, did the hot and young church concealer have to come on the trip surrounded by girls checking him out every second? Not that you were any different. It was hard to ignore those soft plump lips, his expressive eyes and his fluffy black hair. You have always imagined how it would feel to ram your fingers through it. You looked back at him again to get another peak. Today he is wearing a white sleeveless shirt, making his muscular arms visible for you to gawk at. Your eyes follow down his arms to his hands. His hands are slender and long and he was always wearing stacks of silver rings. You imagine how it would feel if the cold metal rings made contact with your warm body.

It’s then his hand waves at you, making your eyes widen and look up at Jake's face. He looks at you with an amused expression. “Hm?” Your breath hitches and you look away again. You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Why did you have to stare at him like that?

You finally arrived at the camp, that bus ride took forever. You walk out of the bus, trying to drag your heavy backpack behind you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up, to see Jake standing beside you. “Um, did you want something? You looked at me a few times on the bus" He says and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. Coward. You only looked at him two times, what does he mean by ‘a few’? You look down on your feet, not being able to hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. As a nervous reaction, you fiddle with the straps on your backpack. Not being able to stay silent forever, you finally answer him, occasionally being able to look into his eyes. “Ah, no it’s fine, I’m sorry for looking at you.” He looks at you up and down, still holding your shoulder. “No prob, just let me know if you need something m’kay?” He says, giving your shoulder a small squeeze, before walking away to talk to another counselor. It’s amusing that he acts so polite, as if the rumors about him weren't the nastiest you have ever heard. Apparently he sleeps around a lot, including with girls in your sunday-group. And according to a reliable source, or in other words, a girl you heard talking to her friend, he was "super big". Whatever that means. 

Because of your strict religious family, sex was not a part of your everyday life. You kissed a guy once, on this camp when you were seventeen, and you still remember him trying to grope you under your clothes, before walking away when you pushed him away from you. You have never watched porn, let alone masturbated, your mother making sure that your hands should always be over the duvet when sleeping. Probably so she would know if you did something. You didn’t want to risk your parents getting disappointed in you. 

It’s the next day, and you are walking from the camp's library back to the room you are sharing with three others. It’s then something in the counselor's room catches your eyes. It’s Jake, his head is tilted back, leaning towards his chair in front of the camp's (only) computer. The room has two big glass windows facing the hallway, and because the curtains aren’t down, you see everything inside.

His face looks weird, it’s an expression you had never seen before. His mouth is open, and his eyebrows are furrowed and it almost looks like he is in pain. What if he is hurt? Should you go in and help him? You are about to open the door, before suddenly stopping yourself. He seems to be watching something? You try to look closer, leaning in as much as you can on the window. It’s then you what he is watching.

It’s two people, pleasuring themselves in front of a camera. He's watching porn! You step back and your hand covers your mouth to cover the sound you let out. That’s why it looks like he is in pain, he is pleasuring himself. You try to look away, but the sight in front of you is too intriguing since you had never seen something like it before. You gain enough courage to look down at the ‘thing’ he is touching.

His hand is pumping his cock, and it’s leaking preecum. You suddenly begin to feel weird between your thighs, making you squeeze your thighs together to numb the feeling. The more you watch him get closer and closer, the more the pleasure grows inside your lower stomach. It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea. Before he catches you, you run away back to your room and lock the door. 

You sit down on the wooden stump in front of the fireplace. Everyone attending the camp is outside around the fireplace, forcefully listening to the counselors singing songs about Jesus and heaven. Jake suddenly appears besides you, switching places with another counselor, blaming it on the smoke coming from the fireplace. You still haven’t forgotten what you saw earlier, and the feeling you got from watching him between your thighs never left. “It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Jake says and looks at you. How could he look at you like this as if he doesn't know what he was doing earlier in his room the same day. Your lack of response makes Jake put his hands on your thigh, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of his fingers making contact with your inner thigh. What if someone sees him? “Hm?” He looks at you and raises his eyebrows waiting for your response. You look up at him, his hands still on your thigh. His eyes are beautiful, making you lose your breath for a second before giving him an answer. “Yes…it is ”you say, and look away from him. He looks away from you and licks his bottom lip. You thought that he would leave your thigh alone after you responded, but it’s still on you. It’s sliding up and down your thigh, getting higher by every second. The arousal between your legs is getting too much for you to bear, and suddenly it’s enough. It begins to hurt, and you need to do something about it. You can’t wait for the feeling to die down, because it won't if you don’t make it go away. Whether you like it or not you need to touch yourself. To Jake's surprise you stand up abruptly, “Excuse me…”, you say as you walk away as quickly as you can to your room. 

You try to open your door, but to your disadvantage it’s looked. Urgh. You forget that the counselors lock the rooms to stop us from skipping the campfire evenings. You look out of the window at the church only a meter away from the camp. The guilt inside of you increases as you make your way to the only place you know would give you privacy. You hurry your way to open the big heavy door of the church, walk down the narthex and sit on the first row. Too bad that this church doesn't have a confession booth, though otherwise you could've hid in there to act out your sins.

You button up your pants quickly to get it over with, and lean back on the wooden bench. The image of Jake Sim enters your brain, but the moment you touch your core outside of your panties you stop. You have never masturbated before, and you definitely don’t know what to do. You look at the big Jesus sculpture by the altar, and it feels like he is staring at you. You close your eyes out of guilt and begin to cry. You are so frustrated, and the guilt inside your chest makes you want to disappear. It’s then you feel a hand on the top of your hair, patting it. 

You didn't notice anyone walking into the church, so the sudden touch makes you open your eyes, only to meet Jake's gaze. You let out a small scream and cover yourself with your arms. He looks at you with pleading eyes, before crouching down so he is eye level with you. His hand leaves the top of your head, and he cups your cheeks with both of his hands. His lips form into a teasing pout. “Aw baby, why are your pants down? And why are you crying?” You look at him with tears in your eyes. Your whole body hurts and you have no idea what to do with it. “Jake, please, it hurts”. He pokes the inside of his cheeks with his tongue, and looks at you trying to act disappointed. His hands leave your cheeks and he stands up, looking down at you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and tilts his head to the side, trying to look intimidating. It’s working. Your heart sinks.

“I don’t know baby, what would god say if he saw you like this in his holy temple.” You are desperate, so desperate that you kneel down infront of him, clapping your hands together in front of him, begging. You look up at him “Please Jake, please help me and make this feeling disappear. It hurts, it hurts so much. I don’t know what to do.” He looks down at you pleading, and sighs. He brings up his finger and points at the bench behind you, signaling you to sit on it. You do so, standing up from your kneeling position. Your knees are sore from the hard contact of the church floor, and the pain makes you limp to the bench. He sits down beside you, grabs your shoulders and turns you so you face him. 

You part your lips and look at him, and his eyes look at your lips. You get ready to kiss him, when one of his hands suddenly caresses your chin softly, before pushing you down on your stomach on his lap. You let out a yelp, and your hands try to cover your bare ass from Jake's sight. He slaps your hands away, and grabs your wrists so you are unable to push him away. His hand suddenly touches your ass rubbing it up and down. You begin to whine at his touch, he is such a tease. “Tsk, tsk, do you really think you deserve my help without getting some sort of punishment for your actions?”. He doesn’t let you answer, before his hand suddenly slaps your ass hard. You let out a gasb and your back arch, getting wetter by his harsh treatment. “Please-” He slaps you one more time, and then once more right after - harder this time, leaving a big red mark on your skin. You begin to cry again because of the pain, and how wet you are from it. “Shh, baby, you are doing so good for me, ok?” He says and massages the cheek he just slapped. He pushes you away from his lap, moving back so he appears behind you, you are still laying on your stomach on the bench. You look back at Jake, the look on your face is enough for him to know what you want. He leans down over your back, and his face is right by yours. “What do you want me to do baby, use your words” 

You can feel his soft breaths against your neck, and you begin to tremble. “I want you to take care of me Jake”. He leans back away from you, standing on his knees on the hard bench. “Do you want Jake to take care of you, to make the ache go away?” He says as his hands come in contact with inner thighs, pushing you up so your ass comes in contact with his lower stomach. He grabs the side of your panties, slowly dragging them down, making your juices slide down your inner thigh. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, lightly touching it with his fingers to feel you, making you let out a breathy moan.

“You are so wet already, was that from the slapping? You dirty slut, what would god say if he saw you?”. His finger slides through your folds, coating his finger with your juices. He puts his finger into his mouth, tasting you. “You want Jakey to touch you, baby?”. You look back at him and whine, not being able to speak. He chuckles at your expression and slides two fingers into you. You let out a loud moan at the unusual feeling. Automatically you start to grind down on his fingers, wanting to feel more of him. He slaps you making you yelp. “Eager now are we? You are so dirty.” The feeling of his fingers, combinated with his harsh words is making you feel more pleasure. 

While still pumping his fingers in and out of you he unbuttons his pants with his other hand and lets his hard cock out, slapping it on your ass. You gasp, and look back, seeing it for the second time. He was huge, definitely too huge for you to handle when it your first time taking cock. “Are you a virgin?” He says, and you nod your head, biting your lip. He pulls his fingers out of you, slaps your pussy, and brings his cock close to your hole. He teases your already sore pussy with his hard cock, before pushing it into you. Your moan could be heard throughout the whole church, making Jake grab your neck from behind, so your back leans on his chest. While he slowley begins to fuck into your tight hole, he takes over your mouth with his to muffle your loud moans. He kisses you softly, roaming your mouth with his tongue, while fucking you gently. He stops kissing you, and brings up his hand to your mouth demanding you to suck on it. You let his finger into your mouth, lubricating it with your saliva. He pulls his finger out of your mouth, and brings it up under your shirt to your nipple.

He plays with your hard nipple before pinching it harshly making you let out a scream. His hands leave your breast, and place it on your waist. His thrusts are still slow, and you want it faster, deeper, harder. “Please Jakey”. The hold on your neck gets tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want, like the good girl I know you are, or I won't give it to you.” You let out a shaky breath and look up at the church painting in front of you. The painting makes you cry, you can’t believe you would let someone like Jake Sim to take over your body in such a holy place like this. Your tears fall down your cheeks and make contact with Jake's hand. “I want you to fuck me harder Jake, to use me until there is no sin left for me to commit”. 

As Jake begins to fasten his pase, going in and out of your drenched core, you continue to cry. Getting close, Jake leans down into your neck to muffle his moans, and you feel the sweat from his forehead sliding down your chest making your stomach wet. The closer you get, the faster he fucks into you, the deeper he fucks is cock into you. It’s not long before he comes into you, making you come as well, filling you up completely. You can feel his cum leaking out of your pussy and it's warm and sticky. He slides his cock out of you and wraps his arms around your body, as he kisses your neck, being extra careful to not leave a bruise. His hand grabs your chin softly and makes you look up at him. Your mascara is on your cheek from all the crying, and he uses his thumb to make the black smudge go away. “You know what to do baby” He says and looks down on your hands before looking at the holy painting on the wall in front of you. 

You bring your hands in front of you and begin to pray, still looking at Jake. 

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.” 

But you know that is no use, and Jake knows this as well. He grabs one of your praying hands and brings it up to him mouth, kissing it. No matter how much you pray, you don't belong to Christ anymore.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆

Finally wrote a Jake fic 🤞 Hope you liked it!

Xoxo 💋

[sinner-as-saint]

no masters or kings - 2

Priest!Bucky x Reader 

Read part 1 here

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), mild c*m play

a/n: @cadence-on-beat Father Barnes and I love you <3

“Where were you?” 

There was already a chill in the air which had you shivering for the past few minutes that you’d been in here. In the darkness, in the cold. Standing all by yourself in front of the ancient looking pulpit, inside the empty church at near midnight. Then the tone of his voice added to the shivering. You were properly trembling as you turned to face him. 

He hadn’t been out running tonight. No work out clothes. He was still wearing the black slacks he always wore. With the black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and that white collar. Hands shoved in his pockets, he stood there near the pews and watched you. 

The lights were off. The lamps outside and the moonlight coming in through the stained glass gave just enough light for you to see him. Not clearly, but you didn’t need to see his face to sense his displeasure. It echoed around the empty room. Not just his voice. His authority. His dark desires as well. 

Three little words and you were ready to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness. He always had that effect on you. His handsome face only made him seem more lethal. Unreachable. Like he was some forgotten god who was known to be greedy, but you kept throwing yourself at his altar despite the warnings just for a possible glimpse of his beauty. 

You were enamoured. And you could only tell him the truth. Lying to him felt wrong. 

“My parents hosted a dinner party over the weekend. Plus there were a few fundraisers to attend. So um, my husband and I had to–,” 

He cut you off with enough venom and bitterness in his steady voice that it felt like a thorny vine wrapping around you, squeezing and hurting. “So you were with him?” His accusatory tone didn’t go unnoticed. 

–

Bucky was well aware he had no right to be jealous. He had absolutely no right to question you regarding your whereabouts. But he so selfishly enjoyed the way you squirmed in front of him. After not having seen you or heard from you for days, he was beginning to get worried. 

Each time he walked by your house, he made sure to look for any signs that you might be home. But there were none. By the second day, he realised you must’ve gone away. He just didn’t know that it would affect him so much upon hearing that you’d been away, for days, spending time with your showy family and husband. It made him borderline murderous. 

Dinner party. Fundraisers. Those were so far from his world. Plus you looked like you’d just gotten back from one such pretentious event. Judging by the deliciously low cut silver evening gown with a slit at the front, the expensive shoes, the diamonds in your ears and around your neck, and that excuse of a shawl you had wrapped around your shoulders – it looked like you’d come straight here to see him. It made him stand a little taller. 

He watched as you took the smallest step towards him, as if unsure whether or not you could get close to him. 

“I came back as soon as I could.” You explained, looking down at the dark red carpet beneath your feet. 

Bucky took some steps closer to you. “But you were with him. Did he touch you?” 

This made you look up at him, as if betrayed. As if it was unthinkable that your husband would touch you. “No. I told you about him and I. We’ve never–” 

He cut you off again, stepping closer and closer as he spoke until he was right in front of you. “Did he hold you in front of everyone? Pulled you close?” He began listing. “Showed you off? Held your hand, kissed you, danced with you? Did he do all the things I have no right to?” He reached out and his fingers stroked your cheek just barely. 

He was crossing a line. He knew it. He couldn’t stop the jealousy from spreading, from coursing through his veins. He begged his god to make it stop. Begged. But here it was again. That same jealousy, stepping out of a dark cave like a beast that’s been chained underground for too long now finally seeing the light again. It was angry. Raw. Hungry. Demanding. 

–

His jealousy, his possessiveness felt like a drug you wanted more of. 

“He did none of that.” You explained. “We slept in separate bedrooms in his penthouse.” 

You gasped as Father Barnes’ hand moved, his gentle touch on your cheek turned into him grabbing the back of your neck and bringing your face closer to his. Your chest pressing against his. His body heat wrapped all around you as he sneered, “What if he wanted to? Hmm? What if, as it is his right, he walked into your bedroom at night and said he wanted to fuck his wife? Would you have denied him?” 

Your breaths were shaky. Your mind was already foggy just by being this close to him. He didn’t feel human. He always felt more. He was too put together. Too steady. Too pretty to look at. 

He scoffed, “You wouldn’t deny him.” He whispered, his lips just an inch away from yours. “Your pretty little brain doesn’t think about anything else, does it? Of course you’d say yes. All you think about is men fucking you, owning your body, making it theirs. It doesn’t matter whose cock it is at the end of the day, is it?” 

He gave you a sinful smirk. One that made your whole body pressed against him even more. 

Then he leaned closer, so that his soft mouth brushed against yours as he said, “You just need that pretty pussy to be filled at all times. Doesn’t matter who does it, your husband, a stranger, a priest. It’s all the same to you, huh? All you care about is having a man on top of you. You sick, twisted, immoral woman.” 

He spoke those words with a gentle caress. His tone hushed, still jealous and authoritative. But quiet. Like he wasn’t chastising you. 

“Please.” You murmured, mouth brushing against his. “Please.” 

He ignored your pleas. Tightening his grip at the back of your neck as his other hand came up to that risqué slit at the front of your dress, fingers sliding in to touch your inner thighs. “Is that why you showed up here, dressed like this? Because you need a cock to fill you up. Hmm? Look at you,” He said, his fingers now finding their way in between your legs, cupping you there, “You’re trembling already.” 

He chuckled in that boyish way of his when he noted the lack of underwear, sliding his finger inside you with ease. Followed by another finger, and said, “Is this what you want? To be nice and full?” 

You looked up at him and nodded, pleading with him with your eyes. 

–

Bucky loved the sight of you like this. Expensive gown, diamonds all over you, his hand in between your legs, that sorry excuse of a shawl as if anything about your behaviour was even remotely modest. 

The soft moans coming out of your mouth. Too perfect. Your appearance, the lipstick, the hair, the gown. He wanted to ruin all of it in the best ways. So he thoroughly enjoyed the gasp of surprise he earned when he pulled his fingers away abruptly. 

“Not so easily.” He whispered. “Get on your knees.” 

He watched as you dropped instantly, right there in front of him on the dark red carpet right in front of the pulpit. Your shawl fell behind you, your silver gown spilled around you, the slit widened and exposed more of your smooth skin and legs. You looked up at him and waited. 

Bucky undid his pants, his eyes daring you to move without him asking you to. He lowered his slacks just enough to free his throbbing, hard cock and let it out there in front of your face. He let you watch it bob once, twice. He smirked when he saw the way you almost begged for it. But he wasn’t that cruel, nor was he too patient. 

“Go on, use your mouth.” 

– 

It felt forbidden. Well, it was. But as you reached for him, as you brought your mouth closer to his tip, it felt like you were entering a territory that could change your life forever. Like you were entering a domain which would swallow you whole, and you would happily let it. There was no coming back, you knew that. 

You were too far gone. There was no forgiveness for this. No repenting. Nothing. So you went for it. You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip, your tongue slowly circling his tip before sliding him into your eager mouth. 

Bucky slid his hand down to your neck, pulling your head forward as he slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “What would your rich, conservative family do if they saw you like this, hmm? On your knees for a man you shouldn’t want. What would your husband do?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan, followed by an arrogant chuckle.

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock with all your might. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. You wondered how long it had been since his cock was inside a warm, wet mouth. 

He moaned as he pushed himself deeper, fucking your mouth like he owned it. The carpet would surely leave marks behind on your knees but that was the least of your concerns as he bucked his hips forward into your mouth. 

“This hungry, slutty mouth of yours feels so good…” 

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs. 

“You’ve been craving this, haven’t you?” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you, eager to chase his orgasm. “Needing a cock in your mouth, so fucking desperate you came begging all the way here for it.” His voice was raspy, heavy with lust. It made you squirm. 

You knew you couldn’t wait any longer for the sake of your sanity. You needed him. So you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Are you that eager? You can’t wait? Hmm?” That gentle voice of his was back again. “Just want to be done with me as quick as possible so I can fuck you, huh?” He looked down at you with his intense blue eyes. His longish hair a little out of place now. 

You nodded before taking him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock against your tongue. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he groaned as he reached his high. 

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him starting to come undone. His hand came to the front of your neck, a warning, as he growled, “Don’t swallow just yet.” Then his cum filled your mouth as he gradually pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen. Cum and spit ran down your chin, out the corners of your mouth. 

You were panting, waiting. He looked into your mouth, finding a small pool of his cum in there. He smirked in that devilish way as he slid two fingers past your lips, gathering the wetness on the tips of his fingers as he, almost naturally, brought his wet fingers to your forehead. 

“You’re mine.” He said to you while you trembled, and it wasn’t because of the cold night. 

There, as both of you were in that post-sex haze, he drew two overlapping lines on your forehead. Then dragged his wet fingers down your face, painting your skin. Down the bridge of your nose and back into your mouth. Pumping them in and out, causing more cum to fall down your chin. 

Causing it to fall down your neck, all over the diamonds that your husband possibly bought you. All over your chest, ruining your expensive gown, your makeup. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Your lipstick was smeared, you had his cum all over your face and he had never felt so close to ecstasy before. He felt free. Tingly. Floaty. Like nothing mattered, but every little mattered. 

This must be the feeling people seek. He thought. Why they beg at altars, and worship old gods and new. 

You were so close to begging again. You needed him, terribly. 

And he knew. 

–

Bucky stared deep into your eyes as he said, “Get on your back. Pull your dress up and spread those legs for me.” 

He watched as you did just as he asked, while lowering himself on top of you right there on the carpet. He was ready to go, all hard again. So he wasted no time in pushing himself fully into you. He watched you grimace in pleasure as his cock stretched you out. 

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force. He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. 

“Fuck you feel good.” He groaned. “This warm pussy missed me, huh?” 

Your back arched off the carpet, your chest pressed to his as you moaned. You wanted to feel his naked body against yours, to feel his warm chest press against your bare skin. But if this was all he’d give you then you were willing to take it.  

“You’re gonna keep coming back here over and over again, no matter where you go. You’ll come right back to me, won’t you?” He asked, hips moving in a way that made it hard for you to think straight. 

But you nodded. “Yes…” 

“Yes what?” He barked.

“Yes, Father Barnes. I’ll always come back to you,” You whispered, a moaning mess under him in no time. 

He worshipped your body. He grabbed your thigh with one hand, hooking it up to his waist, allowing him to fuck deeper into you. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you, his fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He looked down to where your bodies connected so intimately. So sinfully. So beautifully. 

“I’m yours,” You whined, looking up at him. Even in the darkness, he was ethereal. Looking down at you with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. 

His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you. He did. He did from the moment you laid eyes on him. 

You whimpered even louder when his hand slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit. It wasn’t going to take much to make you come anyway, you were already too turned on. 

“Please,” You whined in a higher pitch, “Please, please, please…” 

“What do you need?” He panted, still fucking you hard and fast. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.” There was that priestly tone again. 

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. Still you mumbled out, “I need to come, please. Can I come?” 

“Fuck!” He swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. “Go on, come for me.” 

You did. 

You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you yet again. 

—

He helped you up after a minute or two, helped you fix your dress and appearance as best you both could. 

He had seen your car outside earlier so he knew you’d be okay to drive yourself home. You didn’t live far from the church anyway. And right before you left he said, “Leave the door unlocked.” It was a safe town, so he felt free to ask that of you. “Who knows? I might want more later.” 

Might. He could come back for more, or maybe he simply wouldn’t. Maybe he wanted you to go to bed still thinking, guessing, anticipating, and waiting. 

And he knew you would. Think. Guess. Anticipate. And wait.

---

part 3

[misserabella]

perfect sin

innocent sub virgin! abby x dom fem! reader

synopsis;; Abby was a good girl. Was…

cw;; use of y/n (sorry but it was needed), sub and complete inexperienced yet not innocent abby, references to the bible (algo unholy use of abby’s one) and church, mocking of god, the bible and sins (PLEASE AGAIN, DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY), cursing, alcohol drug use, dry humping, loss of virginity, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, scissoring, dumbification, masturbation (both receiving), oral sex (a receiving), worshipping kink & god kink (kinda???), overstimulation, dacryphilia (kinda?), finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

Abby Anderson was a good girl. A straight A’s student, not a big fan of parties, hated alcohol, didn’t do drugs kind of good girl. And… she was really religious. She had always been. She accompanied her father to church every Sunday, went to a religious school and based her reading on her worn bible before going to bed every night. At her eighteen years of life, the most ‘unholy’ thing she had ever done was lie, and she made sure to swear that she’d never do it again.

But that oath didn’t age well, since she was, once again, lying about the fact that she’ll be staying over one of her church friends’ when she was planted in front of the biggest party she had ever seen —the only one she had ever seen, to be honest—.

Although Abby was a good girl, her best friend, Ellie Williams, surely wasn’t. They were complete polar opposites. You just had to stare at them to see that. Whilst Abby seemed like a complete church girl with her button shirt tucked on her caqui pants and her school’s white little sleeveless sweater on top. —She looked so nerdy and cute with those glasses of hers…— Ellie looked like a rockstar, with her smeared eyeliner, short auburn hair, black clothes and silver rings…

Nobody knew how the two of them could be such good friends… But they were. Ellie was a bad influence, always breaking the rules and getting in trouble. And Abby was… the good influence, the pure one of the couple, always in charge of putting some sense into Ellie’s head when her mind convinced her on doing things that seemed like a good idea when in reality were not and getting her out of trouble. They worked.

Ellie loved to hang out with Abby, always trying to make her do something bad and ‘unholy’ but always getting a ‘no’ for an answer. And she thought that it will be that way forever, but surprisingly enough, Abby had acceded to go with her to one of those crazy parties she always attended. So there they were, stepping into the packed house and automatically being hit by the smell of cheap alcohol, weed and hormones.

Abby didn't like it. She couldn’t help scrunching her nose, overwhelmed by the new surroundings. The air was saturated and it was too warm, making her glasses slightly fog.

Ellie laughed at her face, pushing one of her arms over her best friend’s shoulders and dragging her further inside with her. Abby felt as if the devil had took a hold on her and dragged her to Hell.

"Yo Ellie! Got some crystal?" Oh, right. Another thing about Ellie was that she was popular. Really popular. A lot of people waved at her as the two of them passed by. Probably due to her incredible stash and weed. But either ways, she had a lot of friends.

"Look for me later, 'lright? I´ll see what I can do for you then, pretty girls." the girls that had approached her smiled, nodding and giggling as they took off.

"Crystal?" Abby wondered, to what Ellie rolled her green eyes.

"Meth, Bibi. Meth." the blonde scrunched her face. She was well aware that Ellie was a dealer, she wasn't that stupid, she just didn't know much about it. And honestly, she'd like to keep it that way. Of course she was concerned for her best friend's well being, but Ellie had promised him that she wasn't getting into anything hard, weed was her way to go. "That shit is selling like Tommy’s beers." she shook her head, pulling her down the hallway and towards the salon, which connected to an open garden with pool and where the dancing floor took place.

"Ellie!!!" both of them turned to a brunette smiley girl with a cigarette on her left hand.

"Dina!" she seemed just as pleased to see the brown eyed as her to see her. "What are you doing here!?" the arm that stood around her shoulder fell when she stepped closer to her to pull her into a tight hug.

"Oh, you know... y/n." she rolled her eyes, still a happy smile making her cheeks swell.

Ellie chuckled. "That little friend of yours is a true menace..." she shook her head. "I like her." that only made Dina laugh.

"Everyone does..." she sighed, taking a hit to her cigarette as her eyes found Abby's. "Let me guess... Perfect hair, ironed clothes, that church girl's face...Is this Bibi?" Ellie smiled as she nodded, surrounding her friend's shoulder with her arm again before pulling her flush to her side.

"In holy spirit." Abby pushed her hand away when her fingers dug on her hair, messing it all up.

"Nice to meet you Dina." she said, offering one of her warm hands, trying to be polite.

"My pleasure." she actually took it, giving her a funny smile. "You seem scared... First party?" she felt his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she nodded. “Aw, isn’t that cute… Try not to get eaten alive, hm?” Abby’s eyes widened at her words, but she simply laughed, stealing a bottle of whiskey from one of the guys that went heading towards the kitchen to refill the drinks before giving them their back, cigarette in between her lips as she walked away, turning around when she didn’t hear the two pair of friends following her. “Well? Are you guys coming or not?”

They understood then, nodding and following her down another hallway and into a more private room. From the little people inside Abby thought it could be for VIPS. The room was big, with a couple of sofas sitting around a little coffee table, which stood full of cigarettes, alcohol, little plastic bags, weed…

It seemed to be that they had found the stoner room.

“Dina! Dina’s back!!” a sweet and drunk voice filled the room as the door closed behind their backs. Abby’s eyes met a dark haired girl on one of the sofas, cup in hand and a tipsy smile on her face.

Dina chuckled before going towards the drunk girl, who wrapped her arms around her, pulling her so hard down and against her that almost made her fall. “Lily!” she whined when her face was filled of little kisses, what made Ellie laugh.

Abby looked a little bit shocked when the two of them started kissing.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you… Dina is gay. She’s dating Lily too.” Abby seemed amused by her reaction, which quickly faded. Was she surprised? Yeah, she was surely not expecting it. In her church everyone was so… straight. Was she disgusted? Absolutely not. She didn’t see any wrong in any kind of love. It was not ‘conventional’, as people would say, but it was still love and Abby was nobody to tell anyone what to or not to do. Also, she knew her best friend liked girls, and she didn’t love her any less for it.

“Thank god. She wouldn’t stop whining about how much she missed you, almost choked her to sleep for a moment there.” your amused voice chuckled beside her. When Abby’s eyes wondered towards the origin of the sound, she met a really pretty girl. Gorgeous even. Stealing breath away kind of pretty girl. You were dressed on a really tight and short red dress and black high heels. From her position she could see that your lips and eyes were of the same red color of your dress, the first due to a beautiful lipstick and the other probably for the blunt that stood in between your fingers. There was a hazed look on your face, and a soft smile tugging on your lips. Your hair flared a little bit as you turned to face the two best friends by the door. Abby felt like she couldn’t breath. Maybe due to the smoke inside the room… She thought. “Well I’ll be damned… Is that Ellie Williams?” your red eyes squinted a little bit, trying to focus on the auburn haired girl beside her, who shrugged as she stepped further into the room.

“What can I say? I’m famous amongst the ladies.” that made you laugh. And the sound of it was almost angelic. Abby’s heart tightened on her chest, your smile warming her up and making her feel all fuzzy inside. She was completely whipped. “Looking good y/n, been a long time since I last saw you.”

‘y/n’ So that’s who they had been talking about before… y/n, y/n… Even your name was pretty.

“Too long I’d say. Missed your weed. It is the best I’ve ever had.” she pressed a hand to her chest, honored. “And who is pretty girl over there?” Abby felt like fainting when your eyes met her body, lips around the blunt, sucking a new hit that left your throat burning up as the smoke filled your lungs.

“This…” Ellie pulled her by her arm, closer to you and the other two girls, strong enough to have her adjusting her crooked glasses. “Is Abby. Abby Anderson. My girl.” a smile crept on her lips when she recognized that look in your eyes as you scanned her up and down. “And who you are absolutely not getting closer to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus. That fast you claiming a pretty thing like her?” you chuckled, shaking your head just to ignore her and focus on the brunette. “Nice to meet you Abby.” her name rolling on your tongue made her heart fall to the pitch of her stomach, fingers tingling and breath hitching. “I like your sweater.” she coughed, clearing her throat when one of your legs crossed over the other, chest sticking out and your back arched as you accommodated yourself on the sofa. Her eyes darted elsewhere as she awkwardly scratched her neck.

“Thank you.” she stuttered. “I like your…, dress.” that’s the first thing that came to mind and, as she realized what she had just spit out, the stupidest thing too.

You smirked, taking another hit to the blunt. “You do?” you looked down at it. “It’s a little bit uncomfortable though, too tight.” you teased, although she didn’t seemed to get it. Not as Ellie did, scoffing to bring your attention back to her. “You seem uncomfortable too standing over there, why don’t you come take a sit?” you patted the empty place beside you.

“This is Abby’s first party.” she said, eyebrows raising in caution. “Came straight from church studies.” she put extra emphasis to those last two words, which only made you smile harder and Ellie sigh. You were the devil in disguise.

“Oh… A church girl.” you smirked. “That’s why I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember a pretty face like yours.” you winked at her, and her whole body flushed, making you chuckle. Why was this happening to her? She’d never felt like this… Not even with Owen, who had been dating her for a couple of weeks before she told him she couldn’t keep doing it. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t sure she even liked him. She couldn’t even bring herself to kiss him. And now you were making her blush that easily? Making butterflies come up her stomach?

“You. Stop it.” Ellie pointed at you with squinted eyes, making you rise your hands in a peace offering, faking innocence.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh, you know what you are doing.” you tilted your head a little bit, smirk returning.

“Yeah I do…” you chucked, just to sigh afterwards. “Fine. I’ll be good.” you gave in. “But still, sit your ass here and give me something good, will you?”

Ellie smiled, quickly sitting down in one of the single sofas beside you. “Yes ma’am.” she teased you as she extracted from one of her front pockets a little plastic bag full of a shiny white powder. “Is this good enough?” she inquired and you only smiled, teasingly answering.

“This will do.” she laughed, watching you take a peek at the drug, shaking it in between your fingers a little bit. “You. Pretty girl.” you called for Abby, who had never stopped staring at you and got startled by your sudden attention. “Lend me your bible, will you?” she quickly pushed one of her hands on her front pocket, pulling out a pocket mini bible from it before walking towards you to hand it to you. Her eyes widened when you pulled her from her arm so she would sit down beside you, fingers lingering on her own as you took her bible from her hand. “Thanks.” you whispered, eyes on her own as you opened it to find just what you were looking for: a picture of Jesus.

You took it out and pushed the bible on top of the tea table before spreading the white powder on top of it, using the photo to spread it in thin and large lines. She was stunned, and Ellie was just too amused to stop you, finding it funny the fact that you were using something ‘holy’ to deal with something that was not.

“Amen.” you muttered before bowing down and pressing your nose to the bible, sniffing the whole line in a go. When you pulled back up and against the sofa, Abby saw the remains of the power on your nose. And even if she knew that she wouldn’t think it, she still found you unbelievably beautiful. “What is it pretty girl? Want to give it a try?” she quickly shook his head.

“No! I think that would be…, a sin.” that only made Ellie, the girls and you laugh. She looked so scared you almost felt bad.

“Come on, you’re not gonna tell me that you’ve never sinned, are you now?” she remained silent, making you frown. “Really?” Ellie chuckled beside you.

“Abby is a fucking saint. Never drank, never kissed… Never fucked.” Abby’s cheeks flushed red as she gave Ellie a death stare.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” your eyes were wide open. Well, as far as they’d go. You were starting to feel all fuzzy and tingly due to the coke and weed in your system. “A fucking virgin… And you are friends with Ellie Williams… Isn’t that funny?” the green eyed seemed hurt, mouth falling open. “With all respect, you are a whore.” her mouth only fell further open, what made you laugh. “You have at least rubbed one out, right?” once again she remained silent, eyes elsewhere and bottom lip in between her teeth. “Right?”

Ellie seemed interested too, as well as Dina and Lily.

“I can’t believe it.” you whispered when she didn’t correct you. Ellie was just as shocked.

“Oh my god…” Dina muttered.

In eighteen years. Not even a little rubbing?

“Jesus…” they all sighed at the same time, and Abby’s cheeks only reddened even more.

“Committing adultery is a sin, alright?” she groaned, too overwhelmed by the attention that was being poured on her. She felt like running away.

“You know what’s a real sin, Abby?” you said, making her stare at you. “Not having an orgasm ever. That’s a fucking sin.” she felt even the tips of her ears redden.

“I’ve—“

“Man, I know you and your father has always been super religious, but you don’t always have to follow some rules that were written centuries ago. If that makes you happy then that’s okay, but aren’t there a lot of things you’ve wanted to do that you couldn’t do due to that goddamn bible?” Ellie inquired, to what Abby nodded.

“I mean ye—“

“Then fuck it!” Dina said, snuggling closer her drunk girlfriend, who nodded in agreement. “Do whatever you want.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh yes you can, and you are gonna do it.” you smiled. “You can always ask for forgiveness, you know? Cry up a little bit at church tomorrow afternoon and say that some evil spirit got a hold on you or some shit like that. You wouldn’t be the first miscarried little sheep around here.” she stiffened when your hand fell on her knee, thumbs rubbing imaginary circles on her skin. She gulped, eyes on your pretty hand before you would lean in and grab her attention once again. “So…, what is it that you wanna do, pretty girl?” she was wicked. Under the spell of your gorgeous smile, reddened eyes and haunting face.

Your smile only grew more when her eyes fell to your red lips…

“Eyes up here, Abby.” you muttered, pointing to your eyes and making the rest of the group chuckle. Ellie sighed, knowing it was probably too late for Abby. You had that power of making people lose themselves into you. And Abby was absolutely lost.

“I… I don’t know…”

“Okay…” you hummed. “Why don’t we start off with something soft, hm?” you offered, and the brunette was the first to catch on, offering you a bottle of tequila that stood on the tea table along with a shot glass.

You poured just the perfect amount into it, grabbing another one for yourself along with limes and salt before leaving the bottle where it belonged.

“Okay. This is a shot of tequila. Of course, you could just give it a go dry, but I like to make it more interesting with this.” You pointed at the lime. She was the one who seemed interested now. “I’ll show you how to have one, then it’s your turn alright?” she nodded and you smiled as you poured a pinch of salt on the back of your palm. That twisting feeling in her stomach returned when your tongue slid through your palm and the the salt, all while keeping your eyes on her own. After that, the alcohol went down your throat as you bent your head slightly backwards, pouring after that the lime as your teeth sank in it. Your face scrunched up due to the sourness of it all, but still the people around you cheered for you as you slammed the shot glass on the coffee table in front of you, smiling. “Did you get it?” you inquired the blonde, whose eyes seemed eager on you, probably due to the rush of adrenaline that went through her veins at the thought of trying something new and exciting. “Then go ahead pretty girl.” you poured salt once again on the back of your palm, handing it to her with a smirk. Her cheeks grew red at your actions, but despite that, she took a deep breath and dove in. All of you seemed surprised by her decisiveness. Your breath hitched when you felt her warm tongue on your skin, licking it clean of the salt before pulling away, and without giving it much thought —since she knew that if she did she’d repent— poured the liquor in her mouth, almost gagging as the tequila hit her tongue, what made her nose scrunch. The turn on her stomach and the burning of her throat was a new feeling, maybe not the best, but it was something new. And that excited her. She knew that drinking was not something forbidden, she had just been too scared of her dad’s disappointment if she ever tried it, so she never did. “So?” everyone stared at her, expecting to know her thought about her first time dealing with alcohol.

Abby coughed, squinting a little bit as her hoarse voice broke the silence. “It burns.”

All of you bursted out in laughter, she could have said anything, and yet she went with the understatement of the century.

“Yeah, it usually does.” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “That’s the fun of it. Trying to see how much of it you can handle before passing out.” Abby seemed confused as she frowned.

“That doesn’t sound very amusing.”

“Oh, that’s because you aren’t mixing it with anything else...” you smiled. “Actually, you could use a little bit of weed.” Ellie was quick to pull a little bag from her pockets with a bright smile. Once on your fingers and opened, you groaned at the strong and sour smell. “Fuck, I’d eat you out right now if there weren’t so many people here.” Ellie chuckled at your words, and Abby only blushed, taken back by your language. There was a burn in her stomach that pleaded her to make you let out more of those little sounds out of your mouth. And maybe she should be scared, of feeling all of this for a girl. But somehow she wasn’t. She just needed to learn more. Know more. Feel more.

“I don’t think that…” she started, but you only looked at her and she was a goner, the words dying in her throat. Her best friend seemed pretty entertained by the situation. Abby the saint Anderson was finally giving in to having some fun, and it was all because of you. She didn’t know if she should be happy about it or be absolutely jealous.

On the other hand, Abby was absolutely haunted, haunted by your fingers dealing with the drug, rolling up the blunt and your tongue sneaking in between your lips to lick it seal. She felt that tingling on her pussy, although she tried to soothe it off by going over the Genesis.

“Done.“ you smiled, and Dina handed you her lighter so you could light the blunt up.

Abby looked closely as your lips wrapped around the joint and how your cheeks hollowed as you took a hit. You let out a pleased sigh when the smoke filled your lungs. “Fuck.” you loved it. The high, the dizziness, the numbing of your limbs. “Williams, let me marry you. I’ll make a good wife, I promise.” she let out a laughter as she reached out for the blunt, which you obviously handed her.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know I love you, but you’d be too much for me to handle.” you fakely pouted when the blunt was back on your hands.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked anyways.” you shrugged, taking another hit with a playful smile. “You are not my type...” Abby’s breath hitched when your eyes found hers. “What do you say pretty girl? Are you in?” you offered her the blunt, and after a little hesitation, her fingers stole it from yours. You noticed that she had beautiful hands, soft, with large and thick fingers that would surely look better pushing inside your…

“How should I…?” she seemed scared of it, holding it away from her as if it were a deadly weapon. And maybe it was.

“Right. A saint. Probably haven’t even smoked a cigarette.” you said, scooting closed to her ‘till your thigh was flushed against hers, fingers around her wrist to guide the joint to her lips. She felt her heart skip a beat when her eyes fell to your chest, which stood dangerously close to her own. “Okay. So you put it on your lips and then you suck, but don’t just leave the smoke in your mouth, it has to fill your lungs, so as you suck you need to inhale as deep as you can. If your throat burns, then that means you are doing it okay.” she was following your words and doing as you told her. “But don’t do it too hard or you’ll…” but maybe she was going too fast, since she started to choke on the smoke. “Choke.” you were quick to give her back pats.

“Are you okay?” Lily inquired her, handing her a cup of alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t the best option to go for, since alcohol and weed actually were a strong combination for a beginner, but it was the only thing around.

“Aw she’s fine…” Dina laughed. “You aren’t a beginner if you don’t choke on your first hit.”

“On god.” Ellie teasingly said, sending a kiss to the sky.

She shivered when your fingers dug in her hair, comforting her as her coughing ceased. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” she nodded, too lost on the feeling of your touch. “Wanna try again?” she looked at you as if you were crazy, what made you let out a laughter. “Don’t look at me like that, here, let me help you.” you urged her, taking the blunt from her hand and raising it to your lips to take a deep hit. Her breath hitched when the hand that stood in her hair pushed her near your face. Her eyes widened and her pulse spiked up when your breath hit her own, the weed and alcohol on it making her feel dizzy. Or maybe the fact that your lips were mere inches away from hers was. She really couldn’t know.

Neither of you noticed the way your friends were staring at the two of you.

The hand that held the joint went to her cheek, thumb pressing against her bottom lip as you pulled from it. “Open.” she was quick to do what you’ve asked her to. “Now breathe in for me, will you?” she nodded, and as you blew the smoke on her lips, she took it in. The burning was still there, in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been the first time. You pulled away with a satisfied smile on your lips, seeing her hold her breath as much as she could —like she had seen you do—. “Good girl.” she almost whined at you words, not understanding why they had had such a great impact on her. There was something in the way you’ve said it that made her shake in your hands. “Now, that wasn’t that bad, was it?” she shook her head, fighting the urge to lean on your touch, on the fingers that now massaged her scalp after a third hit from your lips.

“Woah, are we… Interrupting something here?” Dina was the first to break the silence, making Lily and Ellie laugh.

“The room suddenly feels too hot…” the auburn haired said, fanning her face and making your eyes practically send her daggers. “Just saying…” she rose her hands in surrender.

Abby was feeling her limbs tingle as the clock ticked, eyelids heavy and and mind fuzzy. You seemed to notice. “You okay, pretty girl?” she looked at you through half-lidded eyes, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Feels amazing.” she muttered, and all of you laughed at her reaction.

“Ellie, I think we’ve just created a monster.” you mocked her, but she just seemed happy to see her best friend so relaxed, and having fun.

She was about to answer you, but suddenly the girls that had asked her about having some crystal before peeked through the closed door. She understood what they had come looking for just by taking a look at them. She tapped the arms of the sofa before standing up, grabbing the attention of the group.

“Ladies, I need to go and make some business.” she announced with a smirk. “Do you mind if I leave Abby with you for a little bit?”

You opened your mouth to answer but before you could Lily and Dina were standing up.

“Yeah, we’re gonna— Lily needs to— Bathroom.” she simply said before she could grab the curly haired’s hand, her lips on her neck as they left the room, Ellie right behind.

It was then when you realized that only you and Abby were left behind. Alone. She seemed to realize too, since her body seemed to stiffen up

“Well, I guess we’re alone now, pretty girl.” you said, taking another hit of the blunt. You were probably overdoing it already, but you knew you could handle it. She nodded, trying not to show the way her hands were shaking. It was a really strange combination of feelings really: She was high. She was excited about her first party. She was nervous about being near someone as pretty as you… “What are you thinking about, hm? What’s going on inside that little head of yours?” Oh, and she was completely caught up in the way that your fingers kept brushing though her hair, in the way your eyes never left her.

“Nothing.” she sputtered out, what made you smile. You scooted a little bit closer, getting on your side so you could face her.

“Tell me, Abby…” you started. “What other things are there that you would like to do?” you bit your bottom lip, the fingers on her hair sliding down to her neck, where you connected the moles on her skin. Her eyes were on your red lips, on your chest, on your thighs… God, she felt impure.

“I… Uhm…” you decided to give her a little extra push, your chest almost brushing against hers as you leaned in, blowing the smoke on her face. She was taken aback, feeling the heat of your body against her making her pussy throb on her pants. She looked away from you, cheeks red and mind fuzzy, although her eyes found their way back to you when your palm pressed against her cheek, leading her back to you.

“Where are you looking at, hm? Eyes on me, Abby…” you muttered, your breath colliding with her own as you leaned in. “How pretty…” you muttered, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, pulling, getting a shaky breath as an answer. “Such a pretty face and yet no one has ever kissed you before? What a waste…” You weren’t stupid, you had noticed the way the blonde stared at you, expecting doe eyes, lingering blue shining above the red… “Such a pretty pretty girl.” she whined as your lips brushed against hers, teasing her, pulling her in to the sin she had learned to avoid. The sin she had made herself avoid.

“y/n…” she let out a short breath, hoarse voice only a whisper as she leaned in ever further, trying to pursue the plump of your lips and the electrifying feeling that shook her body anytime you were near.

“What is it, hm?” you smirked, and she whined when you pulled from her hair to keep her from getting any closer. “Want me to kiss you Abby?” you inquired. You liked the girl, you wanted the girl, and you were selfish about what you wanted, but you were no monster.

She nodded, tongue sneaking in between her lips to dampen them before they’d fall apart in a plead. “Please…”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head and making her cry out. “Nuh-uh… You can do better than that, baby. Use your words. Let me hear you ask for it.” she whimpered, eyes on your red lips as her own cheeks flushed, probably due to embarrassment, or the alcohol that travelled through her veins, or the fact that she wanted it, you, so bad she felt like dying…

“Please, kiss me…” she whispered, almost inaudible under the music playing from the party. “Please…” and when her eyes met yours, when you saw that linger in the blue of them, the need… You were quick to pull her in, leaving the blunt aside as your lips met hers. God, you’d been wanting to do that since she had stepped in the room. Your core ached when she moaned in your mouth, her hands shaking at her sides as her eyes squeezed shut, what made you laugh as you pulled away, shaking your head. You quickly threw one of your legs over her lap, straddling her muscled thighs and making her eyes widen, muscles incredible stiff below you. “Come on, Abby, why don’t you relax on me a little?” you left a couple of wet kisses on her neck, making her sigh under your touch and letting your hands guide hers to your ass. “You can touch me, I don’t bite.” you amusedly said, teasing her before you would lean in once again to meet her lips, nor before a “Unless you want me to…” she was shaking when you kissed her again, breath hitching and a moan leaving her lips when you started to rock your hips against her. She was already wet. So wet… “Why don’t you open your mouth for me, hm?” you muttered against her mouth, your thumb pulling on her bottom lip. She did as you said, what made you smile. “Yeah, just like that, good girl…” she moaned when your tongue slid right inside her mouth, swirling around hers. Her fingers dug on your ass, making you hum into the kiss as you pulled on her hair. Her jaw fell slack as you ground a little bit harder against the crotch of her pants and against her aching cunt, which throbbed.

When you pulled away, her glasses had fogged up due to your wet kisses.

“y/n…” she whimpered as your lips trailed down her throat, harshly sucking hickeys on her skin and hands bucking you against her. She felt dizzy, high in a drug under your name, delirious even. This felt so good, you on top of her, dry humping her, kissing her… She never wanted it to stop.

“Shit… That’s it.” you said, getting off her lap —hearing a whine fall from her lips— and pulling from her hand so she could get up. “Let’s go.” you were fast to leave the stoner room and start to drag her upstairs, getting her in in the first empty room you could find and locking the door behind your back before you’d kiss her again. Seeing your lipstick all smeared on her lips made you want to devour her.

She opened her mouth for you, just like you had taught her, stumbling backwards in between groans as you led her towards the bed. She let out a surprised gasp when you pushed her on the chest, making her sit down. “What… What are you doing?” she inquired you as you kneeled in front of her, breathing strained and lips swollen. Her blonde hair was all messed up, as well as her clothes, and her pussy hurt so much under her pants she couldn’t help but wish you were back kissing her, rubbing against her and making it better. She was high, and needy, and the sight of you down on your knees with your hands brushing her thighs was absolutely not making the pain go away any time soon.

“Praying.” you smiled at her as you unbuckled her pants and pushed them down her thighs along with her underwear, your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“W-Wait!” she tried to stop you, overwhelmed by being so exposed in front of you, but all that embarrassment left her mind when you pushed her legs apart and left a little peck on her clit. Her pussy was pretty, blonde mound and pinkish dripping folds soaked for you. You smiled when she let out a load moan at the fat strip you made up her pussy, taking in all her slick, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Your pussy was drenched, throbbing at her moans and whines.

“Such a pretty girl with a pretty pussy...” she whimpered when you licked clean her arousal off her slit. “Does that feel good, hm? Like my tongue?” she nodded, eyes squeezed shut when you gave it a long stripe from her hole to her clit before sucking it inside your mouth. You moaned against her, ‘cause she tasted so good… And you wanted to fuck your face on her pussy so bad that it had you thrusting your hips down on your heels to look for some relief.

“Oh, God… Ohgodohgodohgod…” you chuckled as you let her go with a pop, spitting on your hand before your fingers would circle her entrance, making her thighs clench and a moan leave her lips.

“No God here, baby, ‘s just me.” she whimpered when your mouth went back to her, slowly pushing one finger into her tight walls. Her fingers unconsciously laced on your hair, making you hum against her clit and her whine. She felt like chocking with her spit. She has never felt something like this. How could this feel so good? This was supposed to be a sin. She was supposed to be taken away by Satan to hell and burn for the eternity. And yet there she was, feeling like stepping in Heaven.

She seemed extremely sensitive on her clit, where you teased her with your tongue, making her moan and whimper as you curled your finger against her g spot. There was this pressure, this heat building up in her lower stomach that made her head feel all fuzzy and her limbs weak as you pushed your ring finger inside.

“y/n…” she whined, her pussy throbbing around your fingers and fully leaking. You could feel she was about to cum, and its speed and her poor stamina only made her cuter.

“Poor baby… Is it too much? Is my mouth too much for you, hm? Want me to stop?” you inquired her, entertained by her slack jaw and glossed over eyes. She was gone. Completely dumbified. You’d love to see how she’d react once she was thrusting against you, maybe fucking into you with a fake cock… You were dripping down your thighs at the thought of it.

She shook her head, the hand on your hair only tightening. “No! Please, don’t stop, please? Pleasepleaseplease…” she begged, moaning loudly when you went back to fucking her g spot. “Feels so good, so good, please…” she was a babbling mess, unable to think, desperate to reach something that she was stumbling towards, something new, something unknown…

You bit down on your bottom lip. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my mouth? Gonna give me your first orgasm, hm?” her eyes rolled to the back of her head when she saw you stuck your tongue out, drool falling onto her pussy and clit and connecting it to your mouth through a string of spit. She was sure that you were a succubus, a devil in disguise that had come to haunt her and led her away from God. And honestly? She’d let you do it. ‘Cause just how beautiful you looked with her clit in your mouth, the sight of your glossed and red eyes staring up at her as you sucked her clean with all your red lipstick smeared all over her pussy and folds… Fuck. Simply… Fuck. She was so close to reaching that feverish feeling that had her shaking on her spot that she started to moan and whimper more loudly.

“Please, please, please…” she didn’t even know what she was begging for, her strained pleading making you start to lap at her faster, sucking on her clit harder. “Oh god, something’s gonna… I’m gonna…” she was a whimpering mess, eyes watering to the overwhelming sensation of her first orgasm, which was about to crumble her to pieces.

“Come on pretty girl, let go for me. Let me have it, hm? Let me taste you.” you said before kitten licking her clit, fucking her with your fingers. That’s all it took for her to fill your mouth up. Her orgasm hit her like a wave. So hard she was gasping for air, as if she were drowning under water. Her sight went completely white, mind blank and ears ringing as her body relaxed under your touch. When she came back from it, you were cleaning her up with your tongue, swallowing her warm cum and caressing her thighs in comfort. You hummed at the taste, sucking your fingers clean. “You okay, baby?” you inquired her as her eyes fluttered open, glossy and teary, pupils fully blown. She shivered when your lips latched to the skin of her hip bone, sucking hardly enough to leave a bruise, making her fingers lace harder in your hair.

“y/n…” she whimpered, feeling how your lips slowly trailed up her lower stomach, your hands getting rid of the buttons of her shirt as you sat back down on her lap. You were starting to believe it to be your favorite seat ever.

“Did that felt good baby?” you smirked, loving the fucked out look on her face and her dizzy nodding. “Look at you, so fucked out you can’t even speak. You liked cumming in my mouth, huh?” you teased her, making her moan as your hands sneaked up her unbuttoned shirt. “Want a taste?” you whispered on her ear, nibbling on her jaw and making her gasp, her pussy was already getting wet again. So eager… “Open up for me.” you whispered against her lips when she nodded. And she did. In a heartbeat.

Your tongue was quick to push inside her mouth, both of your moaning in the kiss as your hips rocked harder against her own. She was shaking when you pushed her hands from your waist to your breasts, she groaned when you squeezed hers to make a domino effect and urge her to touch you just how she wanted. “Tell me Abby, what is it that you want?” you inquired her as your breaths mixed, sucking on her bottom lip. Her eyes squeezed shut when you went back to sucking on her neck. “What do you want to do now?”

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” she breathed out, glossy brown eyes full of lust when staring into your own. She wanted to make you feel the way you had made her feel, better, if that could be possible…

You smiled at her words. “Oh yeah?” you bit your bottom lip brushing her messy hair backwards and playfully tugging on it, making her take a shaky breath as she nodded. “You wanna make me feel good, Abby?” her skin grew on goosebumps when you guided one of her hands down your body, ‘till her fingertips got lost underneath your dress and in between your legs. You moaned when her palm cupped your clothed cunt. She felt her heart skip a beat when you started to rock your hips against it. “Gonna let me teach you?” she nodded once again as you pushed your dress over your head, tongue coming out to lick her lips, eager to pull out of you more of those beautiful sounds. “Good girl…” you couldn’t know if she had moaned due to the amount of beautiful and flushed skin on display just for her or for your praise, but, at the moment, it truly didn’t matter, not when she stared at you like that.

She felt like fainting when she felt you, underneath the lace of your panties, her fingertips against your soaked cunt, so soaked you dripped on her fingers. “There.” you whined when you pushed her hand upwards, ‘till her fingertips bumped against that little bundle of nerves that could make you cum over and over again with just a little bit of stimulation. “Fuck, move your fingers around it, baby.” you instructed, moaning when she did, what only made her crave you more. “Yeah just like that.” you rocked your hips against her touch, pressing open mouthed kisses on her chest. “Now use your fingers. Inside.” you muttered on her neck when you pushed her hand down towards your hole. “Inside, please.”

Abby was lost. Lost in the new experience, in the new knowledge, but most of all, lost in the way your eyebrows knitted together when she first touched you under your underwear, or the way your mouth was falling open now that one of her fingers was fully inside of you, up to the knuckle. And Abby knew she was a goner when she found herself swearing. And she didn’t fucking swore. “Fuck.”

You were clamping around her finger when you pulled her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around each other as she started to pump in and out of you, making you moan and push on her touch. “Another one. Put in another one, please Abby.” you gasped out, and she followed, willing to do anything for you, anything as well as you kept moaning, and kissing her, and begging her for more, and… “Fuck, just like that…” you cried out.

Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, leaking in between her thighs as she took in just how… Heavenly you looked. On your black lace underwear, smeared red lipstick, messy hair, glossy eyes… You looked like an angel, no, like a god.

A god she would die to worship.

And she surely felt like cumming when her fingers slightly curved and hit that spot inside you that pulled out a whimper from your mouth. She wanted more. More of you falling apart. So she curved them once again, and again, and… But before she could know it, she found herself being pushed and laying on her back. “Wh—What?” she tried and ask. Had she done something wrong? If she had… But her voice died out when you were taking off your bra, and she felt like choking. They were perfect — it’s not like she had ever seen tits before, but if she had she would have thought the same—. They looked so soft… And your nipples, erect from lust… She just wanted to suck and bite on them.

She moaned when you rocked against her hips, the lace of your panties rubbing against her thigh. “y/n… Shit.” she could feel the dampness on the cloth, the heartbeat of your pussy against her.

“Too much, pretty girl?” you smirked, grabbing her wrists to lead her hands towards your breasts. Her big hands made you sigh when her fingers felt the plump of them, thumbs rolling your nipples…

“y/n…” she breathed out when you leaned in to kiss her neck and chest over her bra, marking her all up as she whimpered below you, loosing herself on the way your hips thrusted against her, your lips on her skin, your warm own in between her fingers… On the way your bare cunt felt against her skin once you’ve gotten rid of your panties, slick coating her skin as you slid against her. The two of you moaned before you could find yourself to hum in answer, eyes meeting her glossy and dazed ones. “More…” she whimpered, needing more, more of you. She noticed the hesitation in your eyes before her lips parted once again, “Please…” her hips thrusting upwards against your core, making you groan.

“So pretty begging…” you muttered before kissing her so deep and wet that she was left shivering.“You want to fuck me, hm? Want to fuck me, Abby?” you teased, pressing down against her and making her moan as she nodded. You moved in between her thighs sliding your fingers in between her lips.

“Yes, yes, yes… Pleasepleaseplease… Can I fuck you? Please, y/n, oh please. Let me fuck you, please…” tears swelled her eyes at the feeling of your pussy lining up with hers, mound barely touching, pressing down, teasing her with every false thrust of your hips. She needed to make you cum, needed you…

“How can I say no if you ask so nicely, hm?” you whispered against her lips before you’d push one of your thighs on her lap to push yourself against her, moaning at the feeling. It felt so painfully good you found yourself sinking your nails on her abs, moaning. “Shit, so wet…”

“Fuck.” she breathed out, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you felt so warm, so wet… Her fingers dug on your hips to keep you still when your clits met. By the way she was throbbing against you and how her breath sounded strained, you knew she was trying her best to not cum. So you waited it out, both of you did. A moan left her lips when your started to slightly grind against her, you biting down on your lip as she whimpered. “y/n…”

You slowly rose ‘till only your lips touched before slamming your hips back down onto her heat, moaning when your clits met and hearing her groan. “You like that, pretty girl? Your virgin pussy seems to, dripping like crazy for me.” you teased her, chuckling slightly when she nodded —too pussy drunk already— before starting to fuck yourself against her like the two of you needed.

And as your pace quickened, the more moans, pants and whines left both your lips.

“Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me, Lord. Forgi—“ she was a babbling mess as she watched you thrust against her sopping cunt —incoherent, moaning and whimpering, words becoming lost—, the sound of your juices filling the room along with the slapping of sweaty skin. You chuckled at her messed up appearance and crooked glasses.

“He can’t listen to you now, baby. Your moans suffocate it.” you smirked when she let out a whimper as you fucked her harder, kissing her neck and biting down on the skin. It was all so overwhelming… Your velvet lips leaving red stains all over her body, the prettiest tits bouncing up and down with every thrust, your soft moans and sighs of pleasure against her ear, the way you ground your puffy clit on hers, the way your warm and soaked pussy slid against hers… It was too much, too much that the blonde could feel tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over her flushed cheeks.

It surely was too much, but at the same time not enough.

She whined when you pushed yourself up and away, flopping on your elbows in front of her under her confused gaze. You gave her a playful smile before parting your legs, letting your pulsing wet hole show only for her. Her dilated pupils latched onto it, not letting go as one of your hands came to it to spread your sticky lips. She felt her mouth water, gulping loudly. “Why don’t you come fuck me like you’ve been wanting since this afternoon, hm? Don’t need to be a good girl with me, Abby.” she was quick to sit up and crawl her way over to you, enchanted by your sweet voice as if some enchantment had fogged her mind. She was even quicker to discard her glasses aside, unable to see no longer through the glass.

You gasped for air when she pushed in between your legs, and before you knew it, he was pushing her pussy against you in a quick and harsh thrust, making you grip and sink your nails on her broad shoulder blades as she started to relentlessly fuck you.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you moaned on her ear. “That’s it, shit.” you cursed in between heavy breaths, hearing her grunt.

She was hard, fast and needy, now being you the mumbling mess as you tugged on her hair and her lips sucked on your tits, biting your nipples and bruising the skin of your neck and chest, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere, kneading your soft skin as she moaned against it. “Fuck Abby, that’s it, baby…” your body was buried and shook on the sheets with every new thrust, sliding up and down the duvet. She was fucking the brains out of you.

You gasped for air when one of her hands gripped your neck, pinning you to the bed as her hips harshly clashed against yours. You smirked when she groaned at your wetness, the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers. “I knew you had it in you. Not that of a good girl anymore, huh?” she whined when your fingers tugged harder on her hair, hips staggering at the pleasure as her eyes squeezed shut. She was in a daze. “You like that pretty girl?” you teased, moaning when her grip around your neck tightened and she gave you a extremely harsh thrust that pressed just on the right spot, making your thighs shake and a needy and loud moan leave your lips, crying out for her to fuck you harder, to fuck you just like that.

You could feel the coil on your lower stomach, every new hit on your clit making you get closer and closer to that high and making your walls clench. “Shit, y/n…” her lips parted in a whimper, her hand leaving your neck to take a hold on your hips and seek more of those pretty moans of yours… She dragged you against her pussy with every push of her hips, pulling from you to reach your highs.

“Abby i’m close, fuck, i’m so close baby, gonna cum all over your pussy, shit.” you were choking on your words.

Your moans got muffled when she kissed you, her tongue pushing inside your mouth as her thrusts lost their rhythm, too close to cumming on your sopping cunt. “y/n, y/n, y/n…” she could feel yourself throbbing against her, your orgasm approaching right beside hers. She wouldn’t last, you knew that. “fuck, ah, y/n I’m gonna…, I’m—“

One of your hands came up to her face, your thumb pressing against her bottom lip as she rested her forehead against yours, her breath fanning over your face. “Cum on me, please Abby, please…” you breathed out, eager, begging, gone. Her eyebrows knitted together as her lips fell on a moan, pussy throbbing as she thrusted against you one, two, three more times before painting your folds in white, making you moan at the feeling. Droplets of her cum were falling on your thighs and the sheets every new thrust, whimpering due to the stimulation but still eager to make you come, to make you feel good.

“Oh shitshitshitshit…” you muttered, your hips following hers as you felt yourself seconds away from your own release.

“Cum for me, y/n, please? Please, y/n, please…” she begged, driving you over the edge and making you cum so hard you saw stars behind your closed eyes.

She groaned when she felt your cum mixing with her own, coating her pussy.

The two of you stayed still as you came down from your highs. You were sticky with cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push her away, and she didn’t seem to despise the idea of holding you for a little longer.

Now Abby understood. She finally understood how even a creature as perfect as Lucifer couldn’t had helped falling to the deep depths of hell. All it took was the perfect sin, the perfect poison.

And Abby was sure to had found hers in you.

[yumeboshi]

hi yume congrats on your follower event, you deserve each one !! <3 can i please order a dragonfruit champagne sundae HEHE 🧚🏻‍♀️

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、@justblades .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚DRAGONFRUIT CHAMPAGNE SUNDAE：sends you right into ‘paradise’!

𐙚 dish desc。．a drunk date gone unexpectedly wrong?

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。smutty, drunk, engaged in Sunday and not yet with blade, im sorry if you were disappointed dhil was not here because of the dragon label (I really can’t write him well lolol i hope I compensated with blade & chicken boy) MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday and blade

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY

A FANCY dinner in the Reverie’s most expensive restaurant is nothing but a part of SUNDAY’s “casual date” plan.

he’s a refined man, and a gentleman at that- he knows all the right things to do to swoon you. he knows how to make you flush, he knows just exactly when you expected a kiss from him. and of course, he knows what to say to make you fall over yourself, as if he has the entire script of your dialogue in his hands. things like this are so easy for him to do, and his plans always work out because of how expertly he steers you around.

unfortunately, a possibility he did not foresee was this— a drunk you, wasted and tipsy and giggling at his ‘funny chicken wings—‘ all the while carelessly leaning into him and basically being so difficult. it was difficult for him to restrain the heat that slowly pulses through his entire body when you sloppily say daring things your shy self won’t ever dare say when sober.

“sweetheart, please— we’re in a public area.” he gently tells you at first, trying to recover you back to your original state— although it’s just futile attempts of him trying to make you sit upright and not leaning into his chest because it makes him hot and hard to breathe.

“no we’re noooot, people aren’t around….” you slur, batting your eyes up at him sleepily with an attractive little smile lit up by the dim candles. and lord, he feels tricked. he feels like he’s lost to you for some reason- the way your sleepy gaze and your soft voice pulls on his restraints deceptively gently like a siren’s call- he’s glad the area is dim and people aren’t around, because the head of the oak family not knowing what to do with his evident blush across his face would give away how little control he actually has over himself.

“don’t do that,” he reprimands you. his eyes are blazing with a dark flame that’s far too intense for you to take in-

but your sluggish brain does not register anything- you only giggle and swat his arm that’s warningly on your own. “or else what?” you hiccup with a grin.

lavish silver plates clatter and fall to the ground rhythmically with your loud gasps when sunday’s cock thrusts violently into you once more, a lewd slap echoing across the embarrassingly empty restaurant— chest pressed firmly against your table while you hold onto the smooth sides to barely hang on. “—s-slow down,” you’d plead to him- helplessly dangling to the silky tablecloth, to no avail, since it slips out of your grasps easily when he pounds into you with dangerous speed.

“oh? you seemed keen to tease me earlier. are you already sober, angel?” he slows to talk to you in condescension, but when you try to tell him that the alcohol made you do that— he only picks up the pace, escalating your words into incoherent pleas of release-

“saying such dirty little words in a lovely restaurant. do I have to fuck in some manners into your pretty head?” with another violent thrust and a groan, he drags himself out against your slit to coat it with wet fluids that trickle down your sides to spill all over the table.

yes, he thinks it’s deceptive, the way your pussy struggles to take in his load, the way you mewl and squeal his name for more, drunk and needy— the way your ass moves so lewdly with the rhythm of his thrusts, skin trembling. this is sin, he knows, but you are just too beautiful for him to stop. maybe he will have to feed you more purposeful alcohol when you’re sober again, because fuck, how could you be even more obscenely seductive in this state?

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE

BLADE doesn’t know how to react— because his only recent alcohol experience is when he occasionally joined kafka for wine- and the woman showed no signs of being drunk at all.

but when he sees you- subdued to a giggling tipsy mess, his mind draws a blank. What was he supposed to do? he calls your name out briefly, then realized you were too busy burying yourself in his arms like a cat, smiling dreamily at him while telling him his eyes look so pretty today.

he doesn’t like the way his chest tightens up when you say that. he doesn’t like the way he feels so out of control as if the mara is actually taking him over- guiding his hands to tighten around your waist, possessive touches that make you squeal.

“stop that,” he mutters, indirectly at you and at himself.

“stop what, bladie?” you ask with a playful kiss on his jaw, which visibly tightens. “oh come on, don’t be so uptight. didn’t you plan this date?” you continue to trip over your words and droop all over his arms like pudding so bad that blade had to press your back against him so you won’t tip over.

he did plan the home date, just by Kafka’s constant teasing. she’d told him that wine was the perfect idea, that they would be able to have a “heartfelt one on one conversation.” he thought that part meant you would be able to be coherent but unfortunately no, now you’re drunk and illogical and basically his entire plan to talk to you seriously about engagement just went downhill.

“we have to talk,” he says directly, although his voice comes out so weird, as if it’s being strangled. the weird heat in his body spreads violently when you turn around to face him with a little lovely smile, eyelashes drooping, hands so sneakily fiddling with the hem of his belt.

“what could you possibly want to talk about right n—ngh!”

your sentence goes unfinished, and the next thing you know, your face is pressed flat against the cushion couch. you can’t see anything at all, but you hear hasty movements and a belt clanking to the floor, and suddenly his cold hands are right on you, veiny fingers tracing the outline of your puffy clit before hooking up the strap of fabric with a finger to tear it easily.

when you continue to beg him for an answer, he shuts you up with his thick cock that wedges its way into your gummy walls, stretching you all so suddenly to make you gasp into the pillows.

“b-blade,” you whine, “-s’ too big.”

“ill make it fit,” he says simply, but the primal groan beneath it lets you know he’s not going to stop until he fits it in.

he buries into you at a cruelly fast pace, too lost in his own euphoria to hear you whimper and sob how much it’s hurting. aeons, why is he doing this just now? the way you clench around him draws out a lengthy groan, leaning against the table to calm himself down from such an arousing sight of glistening moisture soaking his cock nicely.

the cold air tickling your ass disperses quickly with his animalistic thrusts that give you burning heat, fucking out your constant whimpers and squeals that you’re going to cum, and he lets you cum, hastily pounding himself in to relieve the bothersome blistering arousal that spurts all over your walls to paint them his.

now he knows that kafka fucking did plan this out, but he’s not angry. in fact, he is almost thankful she set him up, because good lord, he knows he won’t ever be satisfied until your holes are stuffed full with his cum.

[rationaliity]

church — chase atlantic

' i'm about to take you back to church well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst ? baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts cuz i'm about to take you back to church '

requested

you were sunday's favorite. as pure as a lamb, his perfect little toy that he could do whatever he wanted with, even though he wouldn't tell you to your face. no, his actions said all that he needed to say, there was no need to speak his favoritism openly when you accepted him so easily.

you, his darling favorite, were on your knees, looking up at him from where he stood behind his pulpit, your head bowed to him in reverence, one hand curled over the other closed fist in a prayer. " forgive me, father, for i have sinned. " the words flowed effortlessly from your mouth, and he almost found himself unable to keep a calm look on his face, content with your piety.

with your head bowed, all you could hear were his footsteps as you prayed for his forgiveness. fingers hooked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. sunday loved this view of you on your knees in front of him, your eyes begging for a forgiveness that he was so willing to give, for a price.

" tell me of your sins, " his voice was as smooth as butter, his hand never leaving your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes as you confessed. and of course you would, who were you to ever disobey a direct order from sunday ?

" i have.. been touching myself, father, " you admitted, and he swore he could see you melt underneath his piercing gaze. " i know it's wrong, so every time i.. get close, i stop. i know it's not right to orgasm with such sinful intentions, but i.. father, the need.. these sinful urges are taking over my body, my mind. everything. i can't stop thinking about being touched by another. "

sunday is a man who's mind always precedes before his bodily needs. but with you looking up at him, begging him to do something to help you with your urges, even he couldn't turn a blind eye to his favorite believer in need, now could he ?

" this is quite unbecoming of you. i can't even begin to describe my disappointment in you, " although his voice was gentle, his words were biting, reminding you of your place beneath his elegance and divinity. he had the ability to be kind, but he could also ruin you. you could bend to his will, or you could break. he didn't care either way, as long as he had you right where he wanted you.

" i'm sor- "

" i'm afraid apologizing isn't going to make up for your actions. you know as well as i do that acting on such carnal desires are nothing short of blasphemy, " his lips curled into a smirk as he guided your head closer to him, your body leaning in subtly to his, until you were just inches away from him, and his legs were on either side of your body.

" how can i trust you not to act on these desires again ? one should, no, one must ensure that you never act senselessly again. be not afraid, i will take care of your desires. your reverence has never faltered, my precious devotee. i would not be in this position above you if i could not qualm your running thoughts, your aching body. "

" father, please, " you pleaded, the words falling off of your lips like you were about to cry, your bottom lip pouting just a little bit. " i cannot continue to live like this with these thoughts. i need you, father. " you were in the corner of his cage, caught up in his web of desires, but even if the door were open, you would stay.

" then worship me, " sunday commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments. you only nodded, breathless, as your eyes so lewdly flickered down to his crotch just inches away from your face, his free hand unzipping his silver pants, the sound of the teeth of his pants coming undone enough to make your head spin. you hadn't realized that his hand on your chin had loosened, allowing you to look at him as he freed himself from his pants.

he wouldn't take his clothing off completely, that was entirely off of the table. even when committing such baseless desires. no, he was teaching you how to properly worship a man like him. your god. his hands were clean of sin, it was yours that needed his grace. what was the most efficient way of giving you the body of god himself ?

you didn't need to be told twice to worship him, something that sunday admired from you, always so obedient in everything that he said. you took his cock into your mouth, letting the fat tip of it rest on your flat tongue for a moment as you looked up at him, swearing the sun was in your eyes the way his bright golden eyes were looking down at you, scrutinizing your every move.

sunday didn't move, needing you to prove that you could do such a simple task without his assistance, and a god does not chase after his people, and you did not disappoint. your pretty lips wrapped around his cock so perfectly, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked, eliciting small groans of pleasure from him. drool slipped through your lips and onto your cute little white church dress, dampening the fabric.

your eyebrows were creased together as you worked your warm mouth along his shaft, your focus evident. although he was the one being pleasured, you looked like you were in ecstasy, losing yourself in his pleasure, cock drunk and only thinking about the way his precum tasted in your mouth, like holy water.

" what a perfect little lamb, " sunday purred, his chest rising and falling quickly, his bottom lip in between his teeth. you looked up at him the moment he spoke, your eyes cloudy with desire, but still determined to listen to his every word, hanging off of them as if they were your commandments. " purifying you from within, yes, this is the ideal. my innocent, pure acolyte. your defiling of your own body was sacrilegious, but don't worry. i'll save you. "

sunday was sure controlling you was his claim, his birthright. he could give and take away from you freely as he wished, and you were to give him your everything. and in turn for your everything, of course he could give you his blessings, in the form of exactly what you craved from him. as your mouth worked up and down his cock, the lewd sounds filling up the otherwise silent church, echoing within these holy walls, he felt the pressure threatening to burst out at any moment.

his hand grabbed your hair a little tighter than he expected to, quickly pulling you off of his cock. you hesitated for a moment, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard, momentarily breaking the spell he had you under, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked up to him. his free hand gripped his own cock, stroking the length with rhythmic strokes.

" did you think that i would be so generous ? " he asked, his voice holding a hint of condescension. " beg for it. beg for my blessing. beg for your god. "

" fa- g-god- " you stuttered out, his hand in your hair holding your head at the right angle so you could look up at him with your big, doey eyes. you weren't even looking at his ministrations in front of you, solely focused on his face, his radiance. " please- please, i need your blessing, god. i need you to bless this sinful body of mine with your holiness, " the words fell from your lips like a prayer, a mantra that he'd have you repeat over and over again. " my god, please. "

sunday felt his need come to a fever pitch at your prayers, and he threw his head back, moans slipping out as his orgasm exploded outside of him, coating you in his essence. thick ropes of cum splattered onto your face and chest, covering your hair and your forehead like the crown of thorns. his hand dropped his cock, letting it rest on your face, covering one of your eyes as his tip leaked cum into your hair even more as he caught his breath subtly.

" such devotion, your baptism has cleared you partly from your sins. " he murmured, finally releasing your hair, his eyes on how lewd you looked covered in his cum, his cock resting on your face as if that was all you were good for. but his price had been paid, and now he was ready to grant you his forgiveness. " go, sit in the pew. spread your legs for me, and i'll take care of the sins plaguing the inside of your body, too, where the baptism has not yet reached. don't worry, i will make sure your body is completely free of sin, inside and outside, my little dove. "

[changbunnies]

Revelation (18+)

♡ Pairing: Vampire Priest!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by midnight mass (tv), horror themes, vampire / human relationship, smut, possibly dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: The suspiciously young and extremely handsome priest of your small-town church has a very big secret– and it's not until he's sinking his fangs into your neck that you discover what exactly that secret is.

♡ General Warnings: usage of typical vampire abilities (increased senses, strength, etc), descriptions of blood, religious themes (specifically catholicism focused), references to religious guilt + shame, reader does not trust jeongin at all (for good reason lol), very blatant manipulation, cult vibes? jeongin basically has the whole town under his thumb so. do with that what you will lol

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon, vampire venom that acts as an aphrodisiac, sexual acts inside a church (specifically in a confessional booth), some gendered language (dirty + good girl), dom/sub dynamics, dom!jeongin, biting + blood drinking, thigh riding, fingering (f rec), a lil bit of praise kink, corruption kink?

♡ Notes: this is possibly niche but well. the vampire priest concept lives rent free in my head thanks to midnight mass, and innie said he wanted to be a priest + he'd definitely be a sexy vampire so here we are lmao. and sorry i'm suddenly posting out of age order for my late kinktober fics but i ended up finishing this before the other members i still have left :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There's something that isn't right about your local church's head priest. Firstly, his age doesn't make sense; who on God's green earth becomes a priest in their 20s?

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet. 

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth. 

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back. 

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson. 

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body. 

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth. 

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth. 

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.

"Come back to confession again sometime," Jeongin says with his characteristically deceitful, charming smile, knowing full well that you will. Humans always find the sensation of his venom irresistible, always become addicted to it once they've felt it– and you'll be no different. "I'll be waiting for you."

[lacybunie]

adieu, mon dieu!

“forgive me, father, for i have committed the biggest sin of all!”

pairing: afab!reader x re4r!leon

warnings: smut, virginity loss, blasphemy, dub-con, inexperienced/pure reader, religious reader, manipulation, cum eating, creampie, pussy slapping, pet names, breeding kink, slight choking, crying during sex, age gap mention (reader is 19 while leon is 27), fingering, porn with plot (?), bit of ooc leon

note: first time writing hence why it’s so long :3 also wrote this based on leon saying “i’ll give you a holy body” in re4r bc nobody freaks out over it like i do

“holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners.” the prayer is muscle memory. a smile adorns your face as you walk out of sunday mass with your family. oh how you cherish the time spent in god’s temple. you would not have it any other way. this small, quiet town in washington homes jesus freaks like yourself. where every summer, all children through teens spend their time at church camp. cross necklaces or rosaries are worn around the necks of bypassers and neighbors. you feel as though you are blessed with such a life.

so when leon appears in your life, you think you’re the most blessed girl alive. as the two of you go steady, he starts attending church with you and listens to the word of the lord with you in his black jeep. he listens to your prayers and readings of the bible. leon couldn’t be anymore perfect. “our heavenly father has blessed me with a man who loves me.” pink hues flush your cheeks as you smile giddishly during confession. “do not let temptation fool you.” the priest on the other side taunts, almost as if it’s a warning.

the people of the church disagree with the relationship you have with leon, the eight year gap between you two. more so, they dislike leon. they tell you he is not a man of the lord, he is a walking sin. they share their stories of glancing at him during mass and how he’s appearing to hold back laughter, how he doesn’t actually consume the blood and body of christ, how his eyes are filled with something evil. you choose to not believe them as they don’t know leon as you do. “he is nothing like that, sister olivia.” you defend during sunday lunch, biting your tongue. “you have found the devil in a lover.” sister olivia spews with disgust.

her words are a distraction during your date, echoing and bleeding into the grooves of your brain. “sweetheart?” leon calls as he catches your zoned out state. your eyes connect with his, you break yourself out of thought. “i’m sorry, i was just lost in thought.” you apologize, gleaming with a shy smile. the warmth of leon’s hand engulfs yours across the table, the cold silver of your ring turning hot. “i was asking if you would want to go back to my place after this?” leon repeats what you had muffled seconds ago.

“i’ll have to ask my dad first.” you embarrassingly respond as pinks heat your cheeks. there’s limited privacy with leon, daytime stays at his home with an hour max limit and once every two weeks only. your father implemented this as a way to keep a better peace of mind. “c’mon sweetheart, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” leon persuades with sugar on his tongue. the veil of orange from the candles illuminating the table is covering his face, you might just burst from the ethereal beauty he holds. he’s saying something color-coded yet it’s muffled as the tidal wave of his eyes are drowning you. “okay.” you mindlessly respond, leon faintly smirks.

the little skirt you wear is almost halfway off while you and leon makeout on his couch, something you shamelessly leave out during confessions. you keep your hands on his broad shoulders while he dangerously lingers his hands at your hips and thighs. you think you’re seeping through your panties as you feel a wet patch forming, making you feel bothered. “i feel weird.” you pant between a kiss, lungs aflame from the little oxygen you grant yourself. leon pulls away with furrowing eyebrows, “did i do something wrong?”

yet you’re struggling to understand what IS wrong. why do you feel so…wet down there? maybe you started your period but you realize it ended a week ago. leon’s eyes are burning into your skin, the gaze causing you to feel mortified. how can you tell him this? what if he thinks you’re weird? his girlfriend is wetting herself like a damn fool for no reason. “what is it?” that soft tone of his makes you feel even worse. embarrassment is starting to creep itself into the flesh of your body.

“i feel wet.” you say it so clearly and slowly as if you’re dumbing it down for yourself. you don’t know why you feel like this and you don’t know why it’s happening. leon smiles at the frustration you show, clearly not thinking of your situation weirdly. “that’s a good thing, doll.” he coos while holding your hands. head tilting and ditzy eyes searching for an answer, you are clueless by how this is a good thing. “what do you mean, leon?” “you’re turned on, that’s what i mean.” the blood pumping into your heart turns cold at the realization of what you have let yourself done. one of the deadliest sins of all: lust

how can you let yourself get carried away and almost give into something sacred? something you promised to your heavenly father that you will wait till marriage to do? you clutch the rosary wrapped around your neck, “please forgive me. i’m sorry, leon.” you think leon must be feeling the same way too, realizing you both almost gave into sin. oh how awful he must feel, to almost have betrayed the lord and gave into temptation. leon searches your face in hopes to find something you’re not sure of. “why are you apologizing?” he questions, hands no longer embracing your own.

“for getting you caught up in almost sinning.” “it’s not a bad thing to be turned on.” his voice is laced with something unfamiliar, a tone you’re not even aware of. “but it can lead to having sex and we’re not-” “there’s nothing bad about having sex either.” leon interrupts with annoyance. you can’t fathom how he thinks premature sex is not bad, he’s read the bible with you countless times. the purity ring wrapped around your finger symbolizes the commitment you vowed to and he’s reminded every time he holds your hand. “we can’t have sex, leon. you know that.”

“do you not love me?” leon is frowning at you, taking you aback with his words. “i love you, leon. of course i do.” you profusely confess as you get closer to him. the weight of your chest growing heavy while he shakes his head. “you’re supposed to have sex with the one you love right? then why don’t you? if you love me enough, then it’s not sin.” leon preaches with eyes glimmering with something indescribable. “we won’t have sex, we’ll be making love. that’s different. the lord doesn’t view it as sin.”

different strokes of blue are piercing into your soul, almost like his eyes are trapping you. your mind is foggy as you try to think of something to say. “i don’t think...” you trail off with unsure certainty, but what you want to actually say becomes lost in thought as leon’s cherry-bruised lips pull apart in a smile. you think he’s right, it’s something you probably skimmed over. cold hands caress your bare thighs, leon’s lips kiss the skin below your jaw. “you know i’m right, doll.” he mutters while his teeth lightly nip your skin, you grow hot. “i would never lie to such a pretty angel.”

“i’ll make you feel so good.” leon promises with his hands scrunching up your skirt. the sudden action causing your heart to burst within itself. your dry mouth defeats the words wanting to escape, to tell him to not touch there. you’re also battling the urge to let yourself do so as his hands grasp your inner thigh, sending a rush throughout your body. doe eyes noticing the way leon is looking at you as if you’re a sheep, tethered in his sharp teeth, bracing to become a meal.

two fingers rub you over your panties, the new feeling quickly has you inhale sharply. butterflies flutter around in your abdomen. leon hums as his fingers gather your essence that is leaking through the fabric. “there you are, pretty.” leon lays you further down on the couch. his lips kiss you again roughly and you grip at his bicep as his hands quickly discard your skirt. leon impatiently pulls away from your lips to look at the newly found view, lilac panties adorned with a baby blue ribbon. leon’s favorite color.

the wetness from earlier feels as if it’s completely soaking the fabric. you feel utterly exposed like this, so vulnerable in front of leon. “you’re so fucking sexy.” he sighs out once he finally removes the one thing keeping him away from your forbidden fruit. “please leon.” you’re unsure if you’re begging or pleading. the temperature of your body is uncomfortably hot and you’re sure it’s because your soul is already spiraling down to hell. you want to stop leon from inserting his finger into your sopping cunt, but of course you don’t.

“have you ever touched yourself, doll?” leon asks, while fingering you agonizingly slow. you crave for more, not exactly sure of what. you need more of him. you’re heaving at this point, staring into leon’s eyes as he watches you unfold before him, a flower blooming almost too late. “i’m not supposed to.” you choke out the answer while he begins to messily rub your clit. the smirk resting on leon’s lips is haunting you, why does he always look so desirable with that stupid smirk?

“says who? your god?” leon pushes a second finger into your sopping hole, an uncomfortable stretch soon followed by an indescribable pleasure. the erotic sounds of your cunt being touched for the first time reach your hot pink ears. leon curls his fingers against your spongey walls causing you to squirm. the imaginary coil in your lower stomach feels like it’s on the brink of snapping.

“yes.” you moan while he lightly slaps your cunt. “what kind of god deprives his children of a pleasure such as this? don’t you feel good, angel? i know your pussy sure does.” leon smiles at your reaction for his choice of words, you forget how blunt he tends to be. “d-don’t say that.” “your god can’t be all that great if he won’t even let me feel how your pussy squeezes around my fingers.” the blasphemy hits you like a gunshot only temporarily, the pleasure you’re receiving rids it right away.

you’re shaking your head but you don’t know if it’s from the frustration of leon speaking against the lord or if you’re about to reach sweet relief. “leon.” you hiccup, the pleasure becoming too much and your mind is turning into mush. a tight grip on leon’s bicep has him chuckling, looking down at you so pathetically. “you look so fucking stupid. go ahead and cum for me, pretty.” he grants while your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his digits.

back arching off the couch along with the most pornographic moan to ever come out of your chest, the coil snaps. waves of ecstasy crashes within your body, releasing out of your sopping hole. your thighs are shaking to snap close but leon doesn’t let it happen as he gathers your essence up with his fingers. “god, you’re just so fucking perfect.” leon grunts before sticking his own fingers in his mouth, the honey he has been craving falls onto his tongue. you feel yourself get dizzy at the sight.

leon reaches down to give you a messy kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue. “wanna fuck you.” he moans into your mouth, his jeans rub against your cunt and you’re sure your cum smeared onto the denim. you want to stop right here, you want to run straight to church and plead for your life in the confessional booth. however, when leon pulls away to strip off his pants and his fat, long cock hits his abdomen, you feel that indescribable want grow stronger.

your breathing becomes heavy as leon rubs the tip of his cock at your entrance. his cock looks too big for you, fearing he’ll split you open. the taste of bitter metallic hits your tongue and you realize you’re biting your bottom lip too hard. “i’m so lucky.” leon grunts, dragging his thumb across your bleeding lip. “get to be the first to fuck this virgin pussy.” he barely pushes the tip into your tight cunt when you start crying. the pain of slight tearing mixed with the eternal damnation you’re going to face is cutting at your skin. “please.” your vision is blurry through the tears when leon pushes his cock fully into you, you can hear him let out a deep groan.

the way leon’s cock feels inside of you makes you feel so full. the pain of being ripped open for the first time is soon subsided by a mind clouded with desire, yet you’re still crying. leon moves in and out slowly but roughly, hitting a spot within you just right. you moan wearily, salty tears trickling down into your agape mouth. when leon begins to thrust a bit more hard, you’re sobbing out loud moans. leon presses his hand against your throat, “so fucking loud.” he’s snapping his hips into you, his cock bruising the inside of your cunt so sweetly that you feel the coil about to snap again.

“need to shut that mouth of yours next time.” leon grunts, looking at you in a haze. he squeezes your throat as if to test the waters and you choke out a needy moan, your cunt almost suffocating his cock at the action. “such a nasty girl.” leon smirks while picking up the pace of the abuse on your cunt. baby pink nails are scratching at leon’s biceps. you slur out an apology, clearly not in the right headspace to realize that leon is toying with the rosary tangled in your neck. “oh my-” you cut yourself off when leon’s cock repeatedly hits against a spot so sweet, the coil in your stomach feels like it’s tightening.

“say it.” leon taunts. his hand reaches down to messily rub at your clit once more, your eyes flutter shut. you know what he wants and you don’t think you can push yourself further into damnation by saying the lord’s name in vain. “c’mon, doll. tell your god how my cock is making you feel.” leon tightly wraps his fingers around the dainty rosary, you’re pleading at him through your eyes, mouth too occupied by the moans you let out. “leon please.” you cry out, you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop the blasphemy or to make you cum.

leon soon loses himself in your cunt, grasping at your hips to drill his cock deeper in you. the stars in your eyes are getting brighter, you’re almost there. dirty blonde hair covers leon’s eyes, relieving yourself of the gaze he had on you. “gonna fucking breed you.” leon laps at your neck, biting at your soft skin as if it’s the bread he eats at church. “you want that? want me to fill you up?” you moan out a incoherent yes, too fucked out to understand what he’s even saying. leon captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues relentlessly clash against each other.

leon’s cock hits that sweet spot one final time before the coil within you finally snaps. “oh my god, leon!” you moan so loudly, throat becoming faintly sore. your body is shaking at the ecstasy that’s somehow stronger than before, nails clawing at leon’s back that you feel like you may draw blood. “there you go, angel.” leon’s words are drowned out by pure euphoria. you feel the warm essence escape out of your cunt but it’s soon mixed with another hot feeling, leon’s own cum. he desperately shoves his cock into you to rid himself of every last drop. you look down to where you two are connected, the lewd sight brings you back down to earth.

if anyone were to rip open your chest to view the way your heart is pounding, almost punching itself out, they’d think you murdered a man. the burden of betrayal is sitting heavy on your shoulders, all the prayers in the world couldn’t save you now. when you look at leon, who is taking in the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, the thought begins to become a crimson haze. a string of pearl beads clutched in leon’s fist catches your eye, you look up at him. a blue hue meet yours, the once bright shade now dark. leon lets out a daunting chuckle, “won’t be needing that anymore.”

sprawled out on his palm is a broken chain along with a few pearls and a tiny cross. leon ripped off your rosary.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

☆ Silver's Sinful Sunday ☆

Week Two: Lucifer

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Smut Essentially, Fem Reader, heavily implied sub Lucifer, public — kinda(?), barely functional author

Word Count: 491

“We have to be quiet, Luci.” You whispered in his ear, breathlessly as he stretched you open with every inch. 

His lips were pressed tightly together, trying not to make any loud noise. It was hard. You felt so good around him. . . But he had to be quiet, otherwise risk everyone outside the limousine hearing just how desperate and needy the King of Hell sounded balls deep in your heavenly pussy. 

Slowly, you began moving. 

Drawing the low, whiny moans from Lucifer became your favorite thing. 

He threw his head back against the leather seat and attempted to shamelessly thrust up into you, but it was no use. 

Between you clenching around him and the sound of your soft, breathy moans meeting his ears, he was quickly reaching his climax. 

“Please —” he whimpered finally.

You kissed his lips sweetly, watching the sinners walk by, oblivious to what was happening. “Just a few more minutes, Luci, you can do it, baby. Don't cum yet.” 

He shivered as your words became engraved in his mind. Hold on. Hold on.  

It was growing harder by the second. 

His eyes rolled back into his head, unable to form any coherent thought, and soon he buried his face in your chest — it didn't help his case a bit. 

You rolled your hips flawlessly, causing him to bite his bottom lip as he felt that all too familiar feeling. 

He was so close. 

But so were you.

“Please — I'm gonna; I have —” 

His cock twitching inside you was the sign you needed, telling him it was okay to cum. . . He managed to get in a couple thrusts of his own before he groaned, painting your insides with the translucent bodily fluid. 

“You're doing so good for me, Luci. . .” You moaned, pressing kisses to his jawline as you felt your own coil build up slowly. 

The closer you got to reaching the tipping point, the more sloppy your movements got until you finally came undone on him with a high pitched moan, muffled by his shoulder. 

The two of you stayed together for a few minutes, coming down from the high. It had been a spontaneous decision.

“So good.” You whispered. 

You soon removed yourself from his lap and began cleaning up the mess you both made, knowing the others would be out of the movies soon. 

Thanks to a little magic, the smell of your extracurricular activities left the limousine and the two of you were mostly back to normal by the time Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie returned. 

You hadn't been able to find your lacy red panties at the end, despite looking for them everywhere  . . Though you did notice the familiar shade of fabric sticking out of his pocket before he pushed it in the rest of the way. 

You'd let him have that as a trophy of sorts, just this one time. . . There's a reason why you have his contact name as ‘Hell's Greatest Dick’.

Y'all I can't explain it but this man is so breedable. Let me get you pregnant, King 💖

Have my babies. Mwah 💋

[fire-lizard-ro]

Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))

And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz

ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).

Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).

Anyways- Back to this.

Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333

CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise

Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)

So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.

But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.

But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-

But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-

Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.

It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.

Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole.  Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.

Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”

Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.

Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.

That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.

Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.

And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.

Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.

As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.

Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"

It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.

It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.

With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.

He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.

"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"

He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"

He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.

Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.

"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.

Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.

Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333

Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.

[4everhyucks]

— 6:08PM

cw. dubcon, sacrilegious themes, manipulation, loss of virginity, creampie.

it is just another sunday morning of you going to church, secretly glancing the cute boy standing at the front row while the priest reads from the gospel. it’s been a couple months since you found out that you developed a tiny crush on him despite not knowing a single thing about him, only overhearing some of his conversations with his friends on accident. that was how you got to know his name as well. you decided today will be the day to confess your love to him. you don’t really expect anything out of it when you do, just wanting to be honest with your own feelings.

when the church starts to clear out, you hurry over to him before he could leave, softly tapping on his shoulder, “mark.”

he turns around to meet your eyes, you’ve never once stood so close to him, suddenly noticing all his beautiful facial features.

“hey,” mark is giving off an awkward energy, barely noticeable, considering you both have certainly not interacted before. he adds, “do we know each other..?”

“no,” you’re quick to respond, “no we don’t, but i have something to uh tell you.”

“i’m all ears.”

you gathered up your courage and told him that you have a thing for him, you didn’t get to say much as he cut you off halfway, “so you like me?” he says, voice sounding cocky for no reason.

“yes- no- wait, i mean yeah! i do but i don’t uhm want anything from this, i’m just telling you, you know? you can forget about it, it’s not really that important.. it’s not like i wanted us to be together or anything,” you feel so tense, like every hair on your skin is standing up straight, you laugh lightly after you realise you have been rambling a whole lot. this is your first time confessing to someone, you’re not quite sure how to do it but you’re sure that you probably messed this one up.

mark didn’t give you a reply of any sort as he pulls you by your wrist into the confessional. you’re stunned by his actions, wondering why he brought you in here. you’re even more stunned when he stepped in too, tugging the curtains closed.

“what are we doing in here?” you nervously question him, standing together in such a close proximity is making you lose your mind. you can feel the warmth of his body on your cold skin.

“baby,” the word rolling off his tongue so smoothly like he’s used to calling you that. he places both his hands on your waist gently, slotting his knee in between your legs. you’ve never had someone touch you before, but it felt nice, it felt good.

“mark,” you whimper when he lifts his knee up higher until it hits your core. from the moment you opened your mouth to initiate a conversation, he knew you weren’t the type to go for parties, to go get laid and come for church to accommodate your sins. you’re actually as innocent as you look, and mark loves girls like you.

“yeah?” his replies, voice so gentle while moving your hips for you to grind on his thigh.

“feels- weird..” you mutter, fingers gripping onto his arm for balance.

“weird? how?” he asks, honestly not caring about what your response would be. before you could give him an answer, he adds, “want me to stop?”

you hastily shake your head. mark’s smirking when he sees your mouth dropping open. the sounds that leaves your lips made mark extremely aroused as he dips his head in your neck, the smell of your perfume intoxicating him, making his mind go hazy.

as if mark never noticed you every single time he showed up for church, the prettiest girl in the room, wearing the skimpiest sundresses known to humankind. he keeps finding himself jerking off to the thought about you whenever the hem of your dress flies up a little too high, giving him a whole view of your cute panty. on some days it’s baby blue, on some days it’s light pink with polka dots on it. all so innocent.

god must be on his side, for making his dream a whole fucking reality. he didn’t even need to try and here you are, handing yourself to him on a silver platter.

mark stops his movements when he feels your wetness soaking through his jeans. you are pushed up against the uncomfortable wooden prickly wall in the confessional as mark pulls your dress up, mouth salivating at the sight of your panty, white with a little pink bow on it. holy shit, you’re just so pure, way too pure for someone so dirty and corrupted like him.

“mark wait—” you softly hold his hands when he was about to touch your private part, snapping him out of his thoughts for just a moment but he’s already thinking of ways to let you let him have it his way.

“you like me right?” he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear when you nod, “this is what people do when they like someone.”

“does that mean you like me too?” you ask, gazing up at him with the most innocent looking eyes ever

mark hums, ignoring your question, “you’re so pretty, so so pretty.” and when he feels your hand leaving his, he wastes no time at all, shoving his fingers through your folds. you’re so wet, pussy dripping with arousal. you have both palms over your mouth, trying to stop the weird noises that were coming out on their own.

“does this feel weird?” he wants you to talk regardless of your hands blocking your mouth. “answer me baby.”

you slowly retreat your hands, “n-no, feels good..” accidentally letting out a moan when mark curls his fingers in you. shit you sound so angelic, and he wants to hear more.

“want me to make you feel even better?” he suggests. being the easily trusting person you are, you nod again with no hesitation. he slips his fingers out of you, placing them on your lips, “open up baby.” and you did so obediently, tasting your liquid with your tongue when he pushes his fingers through your lips.

mark unbuttons his jeans quickly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, lazily pumping it with his tip on your clit. you gag when his fingertips hit the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. he retrieves his wet fingers, grabbing the bottom of your thigh, pushing it up to your chest. he glances down at your dripping soft cunt as he lines his painfully hard cock at your entrance, unable to hold out any longer.

“mark im scared,” your voice is shaking, you don’t think something that big could ever fit inside of you. you’re afraid that you might break, but mark wants to break you.

“don’t be scared baby, i promise it’ll feel real good.” already pushing the tip in, the stretch is unbearable, but you wanted to do your best, you didn’t want to disappoint him, you wanted him to feel good.

“so tight- taking me in so well,” mark huffs as he sinks his length into you all the way to the base, “see, wasn’t so bad right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. mark didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder than it already was, but it did.

“fuck- try to stay quiet baby,” he immediately starts moving after rushing his words.

“ahh i-i can’t,” despite trying so hard, gasps and whines kept slipping through your lips.

mark leans in close as he hungrily plants his lips on yours, swallowing down your pretty moans while he’s sucking on your tongue, groaning whenever your walls tighten up around his cock. while one of his hands are on the back of your thighs, his other is found wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. oxygen is getting cut out of your lungs and with the way mark is pounding into you, it’s impossible for you to get a word out, much less a sentence. you can feel your knees starting to give out. you place your hands on either sides of marks’ shoulder, hoping he’ll go slower on you.

when mark parts away from your lips to let you breathe, you cough a little, “mark, i’m feeling weird again..”

“just relax,” he says, picking up his pace, he’s so close to finishing too.

with just a few more thrusts, you moan his name out loud as your body trembled, unable to control the volume of your voice. mark grunts at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him, letting out strings of curses as he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

“at least there’s something for me to look forward to during church sundays now,” you hear him say, feeling on cloud nine, mistaking his lust for love. never realising that mark did not once called you by your name.

[hippolotamus]

Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday

It’s still Saturday somewhere right??? For the fabulous @daffi-990 who conspired to bring this idea about. And also because I’ve maybe been torturing her hinting I’ve had a surprise for the last several days…

The Players:

Robert “Bobby” Nash - Asset Management (officially). Unofficially, a former banker who got tied up in a bad investment, causing him and dozens of others to lose everything. Bobby more than most. He’s a recovering alcoholic on a mission to steal from the rich and corrupt, and give back to their victims.

Athena Grant - LAPD sergeant who’s had her eye on Bobby for years, unable to catch a break in the case. He may be good at covering his tracks but she’s better. And Sgt Grant always gets her man.

Evan “Buck” Buckley - Associate. A young kid who steals for the thrill, but also to payoff his brother-in-law to ensure Maddie’s safety. Buck eventually winds up in Bobby’s company, sticking to his own agenda. Until the day that Doug’s asking price becomes too high and Buck finds himself needing a much bigger mark. Someone like…

Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz - war vet with a silver star and LA’s most eligible bachelor, who also happens to be pretty as sin. Oh, and has more money than god.

The Gig

Team up with Bobby to get the money Buck needs to save his sister, and hopefully get rid of Doug for good. Also, not allowing aesthetics to distract him from all the zeros in Diaz’s accounts. A target like this guy isn’t going to miss the amount Buck needs. Besides, it’s for a good cause. He’ll be in and out before anyone notices anything’s amiss.

What could possibly go wrong?

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @tizniz @diazheartsbuckley @saybiwithme mi amor @bidisasterevankinard @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings loml @lizzie-bennetdarcy @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @rewritetheending

@jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @dr-shortsighted-owl @dorkydiaz @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @beyourownanchor6 @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05 @eowon @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life

and anyone else who wants to 😘

[danisdistant]

sunday - your past sins are meaningless now - part one

[intro blog] | [taglist] | [masterlist] | [table of contents]

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday x stellaronhunter!reader

although it was only three days, it felt almost eternal when you’re locked up in a dark room. it doesn’t help that hunger has been gnawing away inside his body.

jade had been checking up on him periodically from time to time to remind him that her offer still stands. even hours before the trial was in preparation, she gave him one last chance. granted, her patience was growing thin.

“are you really going to die like this, sunday?” she said, walking up to him as she lifted his chin. he was already pale-skinned, but even in the dark she could tell he was almost as white as a ghost.

even with this confrontation, sunday refused to maintain eye contact with her. “i’ve told you, for the past three days. i do not want your pity.”

“…well then.” jade sighed, releasing his chin and turned around for the last time. “i’ll go ahead and let the rest know that the trial is still under way.”

“you should already know that your death won’t be quick and painless.”

and just like that, the door shut once more, sealing his faith. sunday felt numb. he knew he could’ve accepted her offer in the first place, at least for robin. but right now, he couldn’t bare to see her face again. not after what he’s done.

he can’t run away from his sins, after all.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“wow, golden hour is so… golden.” you mumbled, walking around the hustling and bustling city. “it almost makes me feel like i wanna spend all my money on the casinos.”

“yeah yeah. do that and you’ll get caught by the bloodhounds.” silver wolf spoke through the hologram as she crossed her arms. “oh yeah. kafka told me to remind you about her gift. seems like she really wants some new shades.”

“shades huh?” you placed your hand on your chin. “doesn’t she already have like fifteen pairs of them?”

“well yeah, but i’m sure she’d like some from penacony.” she looked around before pointing at a store on the side. “over there, they’re selling some sick looking things.”

“wolfie… that’s a game shop.” you stared at her in disbelief before shaking your head. “unless you want me to get kafka some shades based off some paper birds.”

“anyway, how much time left do i have till i have to break a bird out of its cage?”

“three system hours and twenty-five system minutes.” silver wolf typed something in the air before her relaxed expression turned slightly more serious. “you better start moving [name]. some bloodhounds are getting close.”

“alright. i’ll move and get something for kafka. and a new console for you.”

“haha, that’s what i’m talking about, [name]. alright, i’ll get back to you once you break in. try not to get spotted. i hope you maxed out your stealth points.”

“yeah yeah…” you muttered, turning off the hologram before placing the device into your pocket.

as you set your eyes on the game store, you wondered what kind of games they would be selling in a dream?

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“thirty system minutes.” silver wolf said in your headset as you started to walk to sunday’s supposed location. “apparently, his trial is in about an hour, so security in the area is a lot more tight.”

“should it really matter if i make a big scene or not when i break in?” you mumbled quietly into the mic as you passed by some people. “i mean after all, we’re here for one person. break in, save him from the cage or whatever, and leave.”

“eh, if you’re all in on min-maxing your bounty when you’re caught, i’m fine by it.”

“what?! no way, i’m stuck on 6.9 billion credits.”

you could hear silver wolf’s smirk over the mic. “nice. well, it doesn’t matter anyway. it’s about to go up to 7 billion.”

“hey! you aren’t authorized to enter here.” an ipc guard blocked your way to the entrance of an ipc building. “turn around, or i’ll have to resort to force!”

“7.1 billion. sorry, miscalculated.” silver wolf replied as you pulled out your weapon. “don’t worry, i have the screenshot of your bounty, and i’ll share it with the others. anyway, the guard just called back up. good luck.”

“thanks wolfie. i’ll take it from here.”

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

sunday sat still. he was counting the seconds, minutes, and hours, he had left once jade closed the door. he had been stuck in complete silence, minus his own heartbeat and breathing, for four hours now.

as soon as he heard footsteps, he knew that his time was up. he stopped counting. at this point, he wondered if he should finally look at jade in the eye.

“dang it, it’s locked!” an unfamiliar muffled voice came from the other side. his wing twitched, suddenly curious at the foreign voice.

that’s… not what he was expecting at all. was someone else besides jade going to escort him? or is it someone unauthorized trying to break in?

“ugh, i’m just going to brute force it.” the voice said before a loud audible thud filled the room. sunday noticed only a small dent appeared on the metal door.

“dang it, it’ll take me forever to open this!” you groaned as you looked around for some kind of lock or code. you weren’t tight on time, but you did wish to get out of the creepy dark hall and room as fast as possible.

“tsk.” silver wolf clicked her tongue after a brief pause. “if you’d wait a second, you wouldn’t have made yourself noticeable to five other ipc guards. anyway, the code is six-nine-four-two-zero.”

“ok- got it.” quickly, you punched in the numbers and the door opened before you.

you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting when you heard that sunday was locked up in a room. but, you certainly weren’t expecting him to be chained up in a chair.

“jeez.. the security on you is quite impressive.” you mumbled, causing sunday to finally look at you confused.

“…you’re not the ipc..” he muttered, trying to recall where he has seen your familiar appearance before.

right, you’re a stellaron hunter, specially [name]. he had seen you on the ipc broadcasting channel here and there after your interference with the company.

but, what exactly are you doing here? what exactly are you going to do with a man who’s going to be dead soon?

“nope, not with those suckers.” you smirked slightly, partly listening to silver wolf’s keyboard as she tries to find a way to release the chains. “i’m [name], one of the stellaron hunters if you haven’t heard about me before.”

“right now, your trial is upcoming in a couple of minutes, but i’m here to get you out.” giving a thumbs up, sunday shook his head.

“…don’t. i deserve what i’m going to be charged for, even if it means death.” he muttered, turning away as you looked at him surprised. you were honestly expecting him to be ecstatic to leave.

well, it doesn’t really matter how he feels. after all, the script did say to free him from the chains.

“uhuhh..” you said, listening to the footsteps outside that seem to be getting closer. “well, a little birdie told me to get you out of your chains, is to just snap them.”

“wait- you’ve.. disabled them??” sunday looked at his wrists to realize that the dull purple glow was gone. at a slash of your weapon, both of the chains snapped off his wrists.

he gasped, although he wasn’t sure why. surprise that the chains actually broke? relief that he’s free? or infuriated that a stellaron hunter is helping him?

“alright bird man.” you turned around as more ipc guards appeared at the door, aiming their weapons as you prepared to attack. “i’m going to save you, whether you like it or not.”

really, sunday himself wasn’t sure if he did mind being saved or not.

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

“alright, that’s the last guy.” you huffed as the final body fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. “we’ll be leaving penacony as soon as we wake up.”

“and if you’re thinking about running away, i have a small bird keeping my eye on you.” you glared, causing sunday to respond with a small nod.

so, it seems she really is serious about breaking me out and taking me hostage. it’s no secret that the stellaron hunters are planning something.. yet, i’m in no condition to fight and resist. sunday said mentally as he followed you out of the area. although, i wonder who’s the other stellaron hunter she’s referring to as her bird…?

despite his suspicions, sunday believed that the best course of action is to do as you say as the two of you break out.

“alright wolfie, we’re at a safe area. get us out of the dreamscape before more ipc guards catch up to us.” you placed two fingers on your headset as silver wolf gave you the clear.

[previous] | [next]

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

[fearlesstigerquotev]

Ensnared

Yandere M!Pied Piper X F!Reader

Warnings: Mild body horror, possessive + yandere behavior masterlist

Once upon a time, in the land cradled between the winding waters of the river Weser, there lay two towns, Hamelin and Weidehohl, each a curiosity of its own. To the west, Weidehohl nestled amidst the towering, age-old trees, where the pagans roamed, their shadows falling on creatures of the forest, and their deeds shrouded in darkness. They committed crimes that troubled the very heavens, where cats were denied their lives, and dogs met a mournful fate.

On the opposite bank, to the east, stood Hamelin, a settlement graced by the protective embrace of four mighty forts, where no soul could pass unseen or unnoticed. It was a city crafted from the warm, welcoming wood of time, its heart radiating with peace and prosperity. In Hamelin, the gentle hand of Christ blessed the land with abundance.

And in the blessed town of Hamelin lived a widow named Y/N. Her heart was as pure as the morning dew, yet heavy with the sorrow of a love lost. Her beloved had embarked on a sacred missionary journey, and for seven long days and seven nights, he had vanished from her sight. It was on the seventh night that his lifeless form was returned to her humble dwelling, a pitiful sight to behold. His body resembled a mangled corpse, the limbs poking out in odd angles, the silver cross ripped from his neck. Even the cherished keepsake, a timepiece adorned with a lovingly-crafted portrait of his beloved wife on their wedding day, had vanished into the shadows.

With tearful eyes and a contrite heart, the widow sought solace in the confessional, where she bared her soul to the priest and questioned the sins that had led to her husband's gruesome fate at the hands of the pagans. But the priest, hidden behind the confessional booth, offered words of comfort and guidance.

"Nay, dear child, the burden of blame lies not upon your shoulders," he whispered gently. "The pagans of Weidehohl are the architects of this sorrow, and their lives shall remain fraught with wretchedness unless they turn to the benevolent embrace of Christ."

"Father," Y/N confessed, "in my despair, I confess to having missed Sunday Mass twice in succession. What penance must I undertake to cleanse my soul of sin and ensure the reunion of my husband and me in the heavenly kingdom of our Lord?"

"My dear child," came the priest's soothing reply, "perform acts of charity, extend your hand to the needy, and become a sponsor to the orphan. Through these acts of benevolence, your soul shall find its path to redemption, and in the divine grace of our Lord, you shall one day be reunited with your beloved in the heavenly realm."

And so, the widow poured the essence of her very being into the sacred act of spreading the love of the Savior. She became the guardian of the forsaken, running a humble orphanage for the downtrodden street urchins. Beneath the sheltering eaves of her makeshift home, she provided not only a sanctuary from the cold, unforgiving world but also warm soups that chased away the hunger that gnawed at their fragile bellies.

To those who approached her with intentions other than those of the divine, she responded with an unshakable steadfastness. Her words, like a sermon from the heavens, would gently rebuke them, reminding them of the plight of the orphans and how humanity had often forsaken those less fortunate. In her wisdom, there was a grain of truth: Why should the Church entrust a humble widow with the monumental task of caring for orphans, while it basked in the wealth derived from indulgences?

Yet, Y/N knew better than to arouse the ire of the Church, for as a widow, a solitary soul, she teetered on the precipice of society's margins. A single misstep could condemn her to the mercy of the clergy, leaving her precarious existence hanging by a slender thread.

But despite her pure intentions, the Devil would test her belief in God once again. This time, He unleashed upon her beloved Hamelin a deluge of rats and mice, a horde of vermin with ravenous appetites. They descended upon the city like the overflowing waters of the river Weser, devouring the meager stores of grain, defiling the once-pure waters of the public well with their loathsome droppings, and spreading pestilence and death throughout the land.

In the face of this vile pestilence, the people of Hamelin turned to their faith with fervor, seeking solace and redemption in daily worship. Their voices echoed with praises to the Lord, sung until they grew hoarse from their devotion. Yet, amidst their piety, the plight of the orphaned souls remained unseen, their suffering ignored. Hearts once kind were now veiled by self-righteousness, their pride preventing even a morsel of bread from being offered to those in need. And so, Y/N toiled away once more, her body growing weaker and more fragile as the weeks passed by.

One day, a curious traveler, bedecked in a garb of vivid hues, sauntered into the fortified realm of Hamelin. Bemused and bedazzled, the city's folk kept a wary distance from this stranger, their wariness ignited by his flamboyant cloak and hair ablaze like Hell's own fire. At his neck, he wore not the sacred cross but a flute, intricately carved from bone.

"Citizens of Hamelin," rang out his voice like a melodious tune, "I bear, through secret charms unknown to most, the power to summon forth all creatures dwelling beneath the sun—those that crawl, swim, fly, or race across the land. These are the creatures that oft bring harm upon you—the mole, the toad, the newt, and the serpent. People call me the Pied Piper. If I but free your town from its rat-borne scourge, shall you grant me a thousand guilders?"

"A thousand guilders? Secret charm?" laughed the crowd. "We'd sooner drink cow's urine than entertain the whims of a charlatan like thee! Why, you are clothed like the pagans of Weidehohl! We good Christians would never associate ourselves with infidels like thee!"

And so, the Pied Piper found himself slumbering upon the city's cobblestone streets, right before the doorstep of the humble orphanage. Unable to turn a blind eye, she fed him with the crusts of bread the children could not eat, and soup made of vegetable scraps.

He looked up at her, bewildered that one of the citizens who had rejected him would dare nourish him. "Dost thou not fear condemnation? To aid a stranger such as I?"

"Nonsense," came her swift reply, "before me, I see neither stranger, nor maverick, nor even one hailing from Weidehohl. In this moment, I behold but a fellow soul, a man who may succumb to the bitter cold if aid is not given."

Bringing the broth to his lips, the Pied Piper relished in its salty aroma. How could a denizen of Hamelin, known for their stern devotion to God's path, radiate such tender warmth? In what felt like but a heartbeat, the soup disappeared from his bowl. "Is... Is this the doctrine of thy Lord?"

She smiled as she took the bowl from him, "Indeed, it is the teaching of our Lord, who bids us to love one another as He loves us."

The Pied Piper could only chuckle and rake his fingers through his red hair, which twirled upwards in delicate curls at the base of his collarbone. "Throughout my long years upon this Earth, they have regarded me as but an exterminator, a mere tool to rid their towns of the earthly vermin. Never have I been graced by the presence of Mother Mary herself."

"Mother Mary? How does a pagan such as yourself know of her?" curiosity laced Y/N's voice as she sat down next to him. Inside the orphanage, the children, intrigued by the unusual encounter, giggled and vied for a view between their surrogate mother and the curious visitor.

The Piper bestowed upon her a subtle, enigmatic grin, and with a deft movement of his fingers, he began to play a soft, mesmerizing tune on his flute—a melody so enchanting that it seemed as if the very stars had descended to dance in the moonlit night.

The children, drawn by the enchanting music, abandoned their timid hideaways and gathered around the pair. Their eyes, wide with innocent wonder, bore witness to the magic of the Piper's tune—a melody that had never before graced their ears. For indeed, the orphans had never heard of the wonderous music before. It was unlike the solemn hymns of the church, rigid and controlled. Instead, it was a music that spoke of freedom, of joy, and liberation from the chains of the mundane.

Y/N couldn't help but feel that it danced on the edge of sin, but she could not deny the children their delight. She allowed them to dance and frolic, their laughter rising like the joyful laughter of forest spirits.

In the end, she never received an answer to her question.

With the passage of time, Y/N perceived a waning in the rat population, witnessed the orphans suffer less from the grip of disease, and felt her own health flourish in the absence of the rodents.

"Perhaps the Lord has graced me for extending sustenance to the Pied Piper?" she pondered, conversing with her fellow women during Sunday Mass.

"Hush, dear," came their swift rejoinder, "you were simply a fortunate soul. Our homes still teem with the pestilence of mice!"

"But consider this," Y/N beseeched, her voice laden with earnestness, "What if God sent this plague as a trial? A test of our kindness and charity, a challenge to alleviate the traveler's suffering, even if he be unconventional? If each working man were to bestow but one guilder upon the Piper, he would amass a bounty sufficient to lead the rats away from Hamelin!"

Her words did not go unheard by the mayor. Share his own coffers of wealth would he not. But pluck a thousand guilders from the working class to please the Piper—a fine deal indeed. After Mass, he called the Pied Piper to his office and told him of the proposal.

In response, the Piper laughed and shook his head, "Gentleman, the thousand guilders were but a jest. All I seek is a fine wife in exchange for my services."

The mayor's eyes lit up in delight. Now, he would not even need to part ways with his beloved coin! "Go forth, and choose an unmarried woman of your liking! Do anything that you must in order to kill the rats of Hamelin!"

On the morrow, the good folk of Hamelin awoke to a sight most peculiar. The Pied Piper, with his mop of hair burning red, led an army of rats away from the town, all the while playing a merry tune on his bone-carved flute. His garments billowed like swallows riding the breath of the wind, whilst the rats scurried at his feet, dancing with mania. They squeaked and chirped, running and tumbling in circles, over cobblestone roads, through the gates of Hamelin, over hills and meadows, until they reached the winding river Weser.

"Little rodents! Ye must be parched from your toil! Go, partake of the waters that the Lord Christ hath graciously provided!" sang the Piper, twirling around his own axis as he played the hypnotizing tune.

As if by some mystical command, the rats leaped into the river, one by one, and there, they met their watery fate.

"My, 'tis sorcery!" screeched the resident priest, clutching his cross in the palm of his gnarled hand. 

The mayor interjected, "But Reverend, thou must admit, the young lad hath cured us of this plight! And in return, all he seeks is a companion—a wife!"

The Pied Piper turned toward the crowd and bowed with theatrical elegance. The colors of his cloak simmered and contorted—one moment, a vibrant lemon yellow. The next—deep cerulean blue. Loud gasps of wonder and awe erupted from the crowd, who had formed a small comune along the river bank.

With a dazzling smile, the Pied Piper got down on one knee and raised his arms to the heavens, "Fair maiden, protector of the orphans, a soul akin to the benevolent Mary herself! Amongst the Christians of Hamelin, you alone treated me with the grace of human kindness. Would you do me the honor of becoming my cherished bride, despite the unfavorable reputation that taints my name among your townsfolk?"

Y/N froze and averted her gaze to the ground. Using the sleeve of her dress to conceal her face, she replied, "An outcast for an outcast, it seems. Piper, you have placed me in a most wretched predicament. I have dedicated my life in service to God and find myself an unwedded widow, a spinster by the world's judgment."

His expression darkened but was soon replaced by a charming smile. "Fair lady, I take it as a no?"

Unable to speak another word, the widow nodded, unable to reciprocate his smile. What use was there in accepting the hand of a man whose name remained a mystery to her? Besides, the priest would never officiate a marriage between a believing woman and an infidel. Even an infidel who saved Hamelin from certain ruin.

"Fear not. I had a lingering suspicion that such would be thy response."

Once more, he brought the bone-carved flute to his lips. But this time, the melody that poured forth carried an almost otherworldly quality, a tune that seemed to teeter on the brink of the supernatural.

The children, both orphans and those with families of their own, emerged from their homes, their gleeful laughter and exuberant cries resonating through the air like the unholy revelry of a wicked tarantella. Yet, as the music wove its spell, a sinister transformation overtook them. Their limbs elongated and stretched, contorting to grotesque proportions, as if every ounce of their humanity was being pulled apart by unseen hands.

The adults could not move a single muscle, it was as if their feet were planted firmly in the ground. Y/N herself was no exception, and she screamed and begged the Piper to stop this madness. But whenever she tried to take a step toward him, her legs were met with a gripping pain, searing through her body, mind, and soul. 

There was no doubt: The Piper wanted to see the Hamelians suffer. More specifically, Y/N.

Their movements grew wild and untamed, limbs flailing and twisting with a grotesque grace that defied the laws of nature. It was as though their bodies had become marionettes, but marionettes manipulated by a malevolent puppeteer, their movements driven by a dark and unholy force. They twirled and spun, their movements growing increasingly frenzied, entrapped in a wicked ritual that defied the doctrine of the Lord itself.

Laughter mixed with the cracking of bones as the children frolicked and pranced, following the Piper as he led them away from Hamelin. Together, they crossed the shimmering waters of the river Weser, traversed rolling hills, until they disappeared into the foreboding depths of the woods that led to Weidehohl. 

Y/N was the first to break out of the trance. With lightning-fast reflexes and a heart heavy with dread, she sprinted toward the looming woods that led to Weidehohl, her voice raised in a desperate cry. "Children! Come back! This is not the path ordained by the Lord!"

But her pleas fell upon deaf ears as the possessed children, their eyes vacant and their limbs contorted, followed the Piper deeper into the shadowy woods. Deeper into the woods she ran, the gnarled branches of ancient trees clawing at her as if trying to hold her back. She followed the trail of broken branches and twisted footprints, breadcrumbs of waning hope that stretched endlessly into the heart of the forest.

Finally, at the heart of the sinister forest, she stumbled upon the lame boy, his eyes wide with terror and confusion. His frail form quivered, unable to join in the manic dance of his peers. Y/N knelt beside him, murmuring prayers of protection and strength. "Where have they gone, dear child?"

"There..." the lame boy whispered, pointing to a clearing in the midst of the woods.

The widow told the boy to stay put and approached the clearing. To her surprise, the clearing appeared utterly ordinary, as if untouched by the dark enchantment that had gripped the children. Bewildered, she turned back to check on the lame boy, only to have her heart plummet to her very shoes. He had vanished without a trace.

Heart hammering in her chest, she ran through the woods, between the ancient trees, leaping over quaint forest streams. But the lame boy was nowhere to be found. Not even the wretched Piper or the remaining children.

A gloved hand grabbed hers. Y/N shrieked and begged to be released, but it only caused the grip to tighten. She blinked and the next thing she knew, she was in a forest village, surrounded by the children she had come to love oh-so-dearly. 

Overcome with relief, she ran forward and embraced the children, sobbing and wailing just like at her deceased husband's funeral. Through tear-filled eyes, she beheld a wondrous transformation of the world around her. Waters gushed and sparkled, fruit trees burst into bloom with an otherworldly splendor, and flowers unfurled in hues that defied earthly comparison. Sparrows radiated a brilliance surpassing that of peacocks, their plumage resplendent. Horses bore wings akin to eagles, and even the honeybees had shed their stingers.

"Welcome to Weidehohl!" announced the Piper, taking her hand once more. Ignoring her pleas for release, he dipped and twirled the maiden with practiced ease, his steps sure and confident. Whispering sweet nothings, he drew her close for a kiss, and his gloved fingers brushed away the tears that streamed down her face. They danced in graceful circles, surrounded by the mesmerizing melody of the birds and the bees, who serenaded them with joyful chirps and buzzing.

It was then that she noticed the transformed children, each playing a flute similar to the one that dangled from the Piper's neck. The tune that flowed from their instruments was all too familiar—a cherished church hymn reserved for weddings. Dread seized her heart as the realization settled in, and all she could do was weep as the Pied Piper kissed away her tears,

As she danced, a small piece of metal fell from within the man's garments and onto the forest floor.

A timepiece, engraved with a lovingly-crafted portrait of herself on their wedding day. But in place of her late husband now stood the Pied Piper.