Casually calling them "daddy" LADS
Word count; 1,913
Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship
Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff
Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!
You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…
Xavier
It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that.
But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you.
Anyway, today was just a normal day as any.
You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him.
You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly.
“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?”
You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you.
“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”
“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.
“No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.”
You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.”
“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips.
Gosh, he was so cute.
“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?”
“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.”
Zayne
You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician.
The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago.
Now, though, you really want to fluster the man.
He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him.
So, what did you decide to do?
You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.
That should definitely go over well.
Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed.
“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right.
“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all.
"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes.
“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”
“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.”
Rafayel
It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…
Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay.
It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”.
He was also so easy to fluster.
You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect.
You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting.
Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image.
As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback.
“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here.
“Huh?”
It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up and makes his way toward you.
“Again.”
Now, it's your turn to be confused.
“Raf, what–”
“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes.
“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red.
“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy.
“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back.
“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”
Sylus
It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet.
It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life.
This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.
But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day.
...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days.
You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle.
And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic.
So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner.
“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...”
“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better.
“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind.
Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right?
“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.”
Okay, you got this.
You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?”
The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle.
“Sure, kitten.”
Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle.
“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove.
“Da–”
“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.”
I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!
I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!
I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)
Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.
I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷
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It feels like hope.
Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak
Words count: 5700
Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT
Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.
This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.
It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.
English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.
Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”
Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷
(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)
It all started on a Sunday.
You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed.
That Sunday you met the new parish priest.
From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised.
You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar.
A need you’ve never felt before.
Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.
Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.
You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…
Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.
Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.
A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.
You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite.
His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.
It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.
Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.
Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.
Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.
You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.
You could hear his breathing through the grate.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned”
The following silence weighed like never before.
“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”
And you had confessed.
The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.
The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.
You were a sinner.
A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.
You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.
You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.
Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.
You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.
You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.
Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.
He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.
Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.
There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.
Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.
He was staring at you.
Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.
You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.
You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty.
“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”
You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.
His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.
For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”
Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.
“But I can’t. I can’t.”
You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.
You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.
You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you.
You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.
Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.
You sinked into it.
If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.
But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.
His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.
So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.
You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.
His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”
You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.
“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.
“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.
You’ve never heard him cursing before.
You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty.
You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.
“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”
Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.
He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.
His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.
You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.
You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.
You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself.
We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.
You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures.
You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.
Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away.
He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.
He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.
He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work.
And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.
He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.
At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank.
You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.
Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”
“What?”
“Pray. Right now”
“What prayer?” You asked, confused.
“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.
“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”
He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach.
You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:
“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”
You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment.
Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.
“Go on”
“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”
“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.
Something shifted inside him “and your bra”
His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.
You did what he told you.
You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.
Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him.
You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion.
You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.
Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.
It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.
He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.
You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.
You liked it.
You wanted more.
He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.
He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.
His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.
“Kneel” he said firmly.
You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.
You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins.
His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you.
His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain.
He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.
You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.
Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.
You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.
You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.
You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free.
Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.
Joel was quiet, he let you do it.
He was touch starving, just like you.
You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.
His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.
Joel groaned.
You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm.
“You are so beautiful” he whispered.
And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.
You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.
“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.
“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.
His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.
You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.
“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.
You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.
Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered
You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”
“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.
You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.
It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.
Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.
Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.
There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”
It was exhilarating.
You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.
An obscene gift, but still.
You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.
You’ve never felt more alive.
Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.
You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.
At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.
A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.
Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.
You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.
“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.
Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.
Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.
He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.”
And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.
You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.
He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.
“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.
“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”
He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed.
It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.
His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Just…me”
He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?”
“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy.
“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me”
“You sure?”
“Yes, yes.” You breathed.
He prodded at your entrance, just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.
The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.
You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act.
You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.
You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you.
It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.
Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.
He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.
He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.
He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.
It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.
“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone
“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.
“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”
You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.
Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.
He was all over you, like a sailor through a violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death.
Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.
You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.
It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.
And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.
You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.
Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.
“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.
His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.
You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.
If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.
Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.
His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.
“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.
It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.
If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.
“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck”
You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.
“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded.
Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.
It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway.
You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.
It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.
And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.
“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”
You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.
“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.
He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”
Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.
But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.
Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.
You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.
You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.
He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.
And then you woke up.
Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.
It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.
You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath.
You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.
A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷
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Eddie is in the middle of his biggest campaign yet, meanwhile you're sick and while out for errands you end up running into your ex.
Slight Dom vibes from Eddie. Older Eddie x reader (Eddie is 42, reader is late twenties) protective Eddie. 18+
❤️
"The campaign is the biggest one I've planned yet and all the guys are excited for it. I'll be m.i.a for a little while so try and behave while I'm gone" you sprawl across his bed and love the way his eyes darken at the sight of your naked body.
"I guess. It's more fun when I misbehave though" you reply impishly and that makes Eddie smirk just a little bit.
Sweetheart are you going to be good for me or not?" Eddie asks patiently while you pout and settle back on the bed.
"Maybe" you shrug and Eddie shakes his head torn between adoration for you and exasperation. He leans down to kiss you, loses himself in the sensation for a moment or two.
He can't get enough of kissing you, he can't get enough of feeling your body pressed against his and watching you come undone. He can't get enough of spending time with you and being with him.
He's never felt like this before until you, just so full of love and adoration. For the first time in his life he's actually considering postponing a campaign but eventually the little nagging voice inside of his head (that sounds suspiciously like Dustin) forces him out the door.
"If you need anything then you call me, okay princess?" you nod along but he knows you would never interrupt a campaign, "I mean if baby anything at all" he's still hesitant to leave but you practically push him out the door.
"Go or we all know Dustin will be here in seconds if You're even a little bit late" he scoffs but knows you're not wrong. The little butthead would send the cavalry.
With I love yous exchanged he's then out of the door and on his way to the campaign.
❤️
You were planning to hit the bookstore in town and then heading to Family Video for a movie to watch while Eddie was gone.
His campaigns were meticulously planned out and you knew this session could last most of the afternoon and some of the night.
It was so hot to watch Eddie when he was so passionate about things he loved and you had even sat in on a campaign or two, made up a character and genuinely enjoyed playing with Eddie and his friends.
Truly it would have been nice to join him today but you had been feeling out of sorts since last night and Eddie refused to get you any more sick, he had gently ordered you to rest up as much as possible and call him on the landline the minute you felt worse.
It took long enough to even get him out of the door to even go to campaign so there was no way you were interrupting him after he had spent so much time on it, you had your movies, medicine and a new book, along with soup and hot cocoa. You would be fine.
The fresh air helped and it was always lovely to see Hawkins in the fall, the gorgeous oranges, rust and golden hues of the trees, the chill in the air and Halloween decorations dotted around the town.
Your peace ends up interrupted by a very unwelcome figure. Your ex. Alastair.
"Has the freak left you all alone today?" You ignore Alastair and walk past him. God what did you see in that asshole? It was only a couple of months but you should have seen that he was a douchebag from the start.
Thankfully you had dumped him and moved on. You had found Eddie who treated you like a queen, who adored you and loved you so much.
"I'm talking to you. Stupid bitch" Alastair snarls and he grabs your arm. The violent tug makes you lose your balance and you stumble.
"Let of me" you snap and his face turns puce but before he can do anything else someone blocks him from your view.
"Clear off dickhead" its Steve and he's glaring at Alastair whose face drains of colour.
"You know I'm glad it's that freak who has you now. At some point he will get sick of your bullshit as well" he snarls and walks away.
You're teary and just want to go home. The glow of your perfect morning with Eddie is long gone.
"You okay?" Steve asks kindly and you nod still feeling shaky. You're furious that Alastair has ruined your day and gotten under your skin again, tears of fury blur your vision and Steve softens.
"Come on. I'll walk you home"
❤️
When you head back to Eddie's trailer your head is pounding and Alastair's words play on your mind. It was no good giving that assholes opinions the time of day, the thing is he always managed to say things that got under your skin or that he knew would hurt the most.
It was hard to ignore him and even though you shake up you still refuse to call Eddie. In all honesty you were nervous to say anything about this. He was so protective of you that you worried he would actually knock Alastair out for grabbing you like that.
You didn't want Eddie in trouble so you resolved to keep quiet. Though if Alastair came near you again you were absolutely kicking him in his tiny little balls.
...
You had been strangely quiet since Eddie had arrived back home, usually you were slightly mischievous, chatty and would tell him all about your day. He told you all about the campaign and how well it had gone, you seemed genuinely excited but there was still something bugging you that Eddie couldn't figure out.
Were you still feeling sick?
"Eddie, do you get sick of me sometimes?" the question hangs in the air and Eddie gapes, what? Where the fuck was this coming from?
"Of course not sweetheart. Why would you ever think that?" You shake your head and cuddle up close to him. He held you tightly, trying to soothe away what was worrying you. What happened from this morning to now?
"No reason, I just wondered that's all" he frowns and holds you closer to him, determined to let you know how much you mean to him.
"I love you sweetheart. I could never get sick of you. Please never think like that because it will never happen" the words seem to relax you but Eddie is still suspicious about why those thoughts were even on your mind.
He's determined to find out and he doesn't have to wait very long.
❤️
Steve visits that afternoon and Eddie's worries deepen when he asks if you're okay after yesterday.
"What happened yesterday?" he knew there was something that was bothering you. He should have pressed a little bit more last night but he knew you would tell him in time. He's anxious now that it's something really bad.
It must be judging from your question last night, something had put those thoughts on your mind and now he was closer to finding out what.
Steve frowns. "Did she not tell you that dickhead of an ex was hounding her?" Eddie freezes and shakes his head.
"Shit no, she looked like she wanted to tell me something all night but kept closing up. I should have known it would be something to do with him" he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to control his anger.
Not that he was angry at you, no way. However he was angry at your ex and his inability to leave you alone. Anytime Alastair saw you it caused him to act like a complete dick, he's pretty sure the guy must naturally be an ass or he didn't like the fact that you dumped his ass.
Either way Eddie wasn't going to let the little fucker away with hurting you. He thanks Steve for telling him and for being there for you, even though he wishes he could have been there himself.
He doubts very much your ex would have said anything when he was around and was one of those people who liked to get their targets on their own.
Once Steve leaves you arrive back home shortly after, you kiss his cheek and take your bag full of groceries into the kitchen.
Eddie follows you and wraps his arms around your waist while trailing soft kisses over your neck.
"Hey princess, Steve came over today to ask how you were after yesterday" you stiffen for a few seconds but relax when he soothes you.
"That was sweet of him. I guess he told you what happened with Alastair? I've been meaning to tell you, it's just trying to find the right words but yeah he was his usual self and he grabbed me..." You turn to him but he's extremely quiet.
You must notice the dangerous glint in his eyes because you cup his cheek and reassure him that you're fine and everything is okay.
Eddie holds you close and kisses you, he's fuming that your ex dared put his hands on you and you quietly tell him the rest of what happened and by the end of it he's pissed.
"I love you so much sweetheart, so fucking much and if that asshole bothers you again then I swear I'll knock his teeth out" he seethes and you shake your head not wanting that to happen.
"I love you Eddie and I don't want you in trouble for that asshole" you rest your head on his chest and he strokes your hair.
"Oh I won't get into shit but he might" he mutters and plans to have a word with your shitty ex. There was no way that douchebag was getting away with hurting you.
"Eddie" you warn him and sigh when you get one of his charming smiles in return.
"I promise you princess that I won't harm a hair on his head even if he deserves it" Eddie vows and you nod believing him. Whatever he had planned though would likely be something Alastair would never forget.
...
Funnily enough Alistair doesn't bother you again and when you ask Eddie about it he simply says they had a little chat.
Knowing how protective Eddie is you can just imagine how that went. It must have been something that got through to him because in the rare times you did see Alistair out and about in town, his eyes would widen and he'd rush away clutching his privates and letting out a squeal.
"Eddie what the hell did you do?" you ask torn between amusement and exasperation.
"I just told him to leave my girl alone or he'd maybe be an appendage less" he shrugs innocently. "No one tries to hurt you and gets away with it" he kisses your forehead and you stifle a smile as the two of you head back home.
❤️
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