#sinful sunday anon

[doumadono]

(Since you wanted me here so much! HERE I AM BESTIE!)

🍑For Sinful Sunday🍆

I am thinking about Hawks and well... he is a bird yeah?

So how about Hawks going into his spring season??? Him being all nice and sweet, giving his s/o little gifts, him LITERALLY building a nest... ONLY TO FUCK IN THERE FOR DAYS! Until his pretty mate is tired and full of seed to the point it's leaking out. Of cours it's not like he is done just yet 😏😏😏

(Hoenstly... idk what I am doing here! Love you gurl!)

SINFUL SUNDAY

Spring was the mating season for birds, and you could likely guess how it affected Keigo. During this time, he constantly felt a fiery heat, and his sexual desire became noticeably heightened.

"It's spring," he moaned. His hips surged forward, making you gasp around his thick shaft, his reddened tip hit the back of your throat again as you were giving him the head.

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as he began slamming his cock down your throat, his pace rough and rapid, almost primal.

Did he mean it was mating season? You had indeed observed other avian-like traits in him lately — those little trinkets he proudly displayed on his desk at work, the absent-minded whistling as he strolled through the office. Yet, you never thought mating season could be among them!

His words tumbled out hastily, almost strained, as if forming complete sentences was far beyond him. His rut had utterly consumed him. “Fuck, gonna cum soon.” His pace quickened as his entire length was being forced down your tight throat. His wings trembled and unfolded as he cum into your mouth.

The instant his taste met your tongue, an involuntary moan escaped you.

"Fuck, dove. I need you, right now," he growled, his lips brushing against yours as he helped you up to your feet. His hand ventured between you, shifting your underwear aside as two fingers delved into your dripping warmth. Another guttural growl escaped his lips. "Oh, fuck, I gotta fuck you. So incredibly wet," he murmured, pushing you down on the bed that looked rather like a huge nest with all those pillows and blankets, his hand wrapping around his aching cock, pumping it several times, gliding it between your slick folds to immerse it in your intoxicating wetness shortly after. Hawks aligned himself with your entrance, impelling himself entirely inside you with one fluid motion. Your gasp of pleasure was truly a music to his ears. He began pounding into you relentlessly, filling the air with an unmistakably lewd and wet squelching sounds. "Oh, oh, fuck!" He clung to your hips with an intensity that hinted at marks to come, and his fervent kisses trailed from your cheek down to the pulse point on your neck, each one growing increasingly passionate and sloppy. "You belong to me," he panted, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy. "All mine," his voice, drenched in overwhelming desire, reverberated with a deep, primal hunger.

Your cunt clinched against him as your head lolled back on the pile of pillows.

Hawks deftly angled his hips, hitting that spongy, sensitive spot deep within you, and in an instant, your climax devoured you. Your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing dick, creating a frothy white ring at the base. "Oh, Keigo, yes!"

This was sufficient to push him over the brink too. His hips spasmed against yours as he released his hot semen deep within you. "Ah, fuck! My sexy baby bird," Hawks grunted, laying on top of you. "Took all of my seed so well. Hope you'll get round with my offspring soon."

[bitchinbarzal]

ugh whiny mat who just wants his head between your thighs but you won’t let him bc you have plans and he’s literally pouting over it

-linkedin anon

“Mat I’m working!”

“But babe I wanna eat you out”

“Do it later!”

“But I’m horny now! Please? Just a little? I won’t make a mess”

“It always makes a mess”

“Hey I can’t help that you always squirt… babe my tongue is good I can’t help it. So, head?”

[couldawouldashoulda50]

How do you think a nice shower would look like with Willy and Loren? I sometimes imagine a very intimate and sweet moment, but I also see both of them being absolute menace e.g. while they are washing each other’s body, William is particularly concerned about the cleanliness of Loren’s breast if you know what I mean. He just keeps soaping up her chest over and over again and Loren makes a remark about it.

Also, another completely different prompt/idea could be William taking care of Loren. I was rewatching that 32 thoughts interview with Rasmus and how he said if you are in William circle, he will drop what he is doing to help or whatever. Idk what could happen to Loren, but caring William just killllssss me.

I've been thinking about this for days, Nonnie - I'm sorry it's taken me a minute to get back to this.

I had this thought that perhaps the women William had gravitated towards before were all undoubtedly lovely, quite slender and petite. Since Loren has come into his life, however, he is completely obsessed with her curves, her more than ample breasts, and an ass that he loves to affectionately grab onto. William is an exceptionally tactile person in general, so you imagine how much more he is with Loren. He's always smoothing his hand over the length of her thigh right up to the curve of ass cheek whenever the opportunity is there.

But the shower - the shower for William and Loren is for so much more than just a spot to wash up and get clean. It's their little sanctuary totally away from everything. It's where their silly and sexy sides emerge. They talk, compare schedules, maybe gossip a little, make plans - all the while, hands and mouths are roaming. The stream of water almost becomes another set of fingertips caressing their skin. So forgive me with this - I couldn't help it - I had to combine the two thoughts. Maybe not the strongest finish but this turned out way longer than I anticipated 😬 (it's not proofread either - not well anyway)

18+ only below the cut please.

"Fuck me," Loren gritted through her teeth as she stared at the utterly abysmal congestion on the Don Valley Parkway.

She could see her exit—right there in her line of sight—the green Bayview/Bloor sign with the white arrow, pointing the way to William's condo.

She couldn't help but obsessively glance at the clock on the dash of her car.

1:24pm. 1:32pm. 1:39pm.

She's already over two hours past the last update she provided William as he left for practice that morning. It's been an extremely chaotic time for Loren. Staffing shortages at the group home. With her tutoring—constant rescheduling and dealing with no-shows. ’Tis the season for the usual school illnesses that had taken out several of her students.

It's also been four days since she saw William. With November being a rather light month in games scheduled, he occasionally would give Alex his condo to do some entertaining, while he made the trek north with the dogs, and often times with food for Loren. She would almost bowl him over each time he greeted her at the door, showering him with kisses and love.

Four days was a loooong time away from this man, and she pressed her thighs together as she drove along Bloor Street, hitting every red light at every intersection.

By the time Loren finally maneuvers her car into the parking garage of William’s building, it’s 2:17 p.m. "Fuck," she mutters as she gathers her things and some of William's favourite treats and makes her way towards the lobby. She spots Warren at the security desk and hurries towards him. She hands him a separate container of squares she had made for him. Warren’s eyes lit up. "Are these—no way, Loren… I can’t believe you went to the trouble…" Loren grinned. "Warren, these were no trouble—but you’re so worth it if they were. There’s a few kinds in there; let me know which ones you and your girlfriend like, and I’ll give you the recipe next time."

"If there's any left by the time I get home," Warren said sheepishly.

Loren giggled and waved as she scurried down the corridor towards the elevator.

When she finally steps into William’s condo, Pablo and Banksy are quick to run to her. She sets her things down on the floor and kneels down to greet them properly.

She whispers "Where's Dad?" and the dogs lead her down the hall towards the bedroom. Alex must be asleep as well as there is no sign of him.

Stepping through the door, her heart swelled.

There he is.

William is sprawled out on his stomach, the sheets tangled around his waist.  His flawless, muscular back rose and fell with every breath. All she wanted was to crawl into bed next to him and feel him. But she felt grimy, tired, and desperate for a shower.

Careful not to wake him, she quietly strips off her clothes and slips into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

As the steam fills the room, she steps into the large expanse of the shower. There are multiple streams of water from various heads, and she allows the pulsating action knead the tiredness from her muscles. She smiles as she notices William is using the sample of the all natural soap that she got from Chelsea, instead of his usual men's brand.

The sudden movement behind the frosted glass startled Loren slightly. "I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to wake you up," she said softly to the shadow, knowing it was William on the other side.

"Passing by both me and Cowboy Bill without saying "hi"?" William said, stepping into the shower and wrapping his arms around her from behind. "We’re both very excited to see you," he murmured teasingly against the back of her neck.

She leans against his body, laying her head back on his shoulder. As her hands reach behind her to stroke his thighs, his hands moved less innocently from her waist, up along her ribcage, before resting on her breasts, gently caressing and fondling them.

Loren moaned when she felt William's erection beginning to press against her ass. She swayed her hips slightly, rubbing Williams cock against her skin in the process.

Between the extra shifts Loren covered, the lessons she personalized for each of her tutoring students, and all of her other responsibilities, William could see it beginning to wear on her. She needed to relax and he was going to try his best to take care of not just her needs, but her desires too. Unfortunately, with it being game day, he was lacking the time he preferred to worship her body properly. In this case, an hour, give or take, would have to suffice.

William's hands smooth over the expanse of her wet skin. One hand remained cupping her breast while the other gently grazed her Brazilian bareness between her legs.

Plumes of steam swirled in the shower as William softly spoke words of love in her ear, his gentle kisses trailing along the side of Loren’s slender neck. His lips continued to caress her shoulder blades, his stubble adding to the intoxicating sensations.

William grabbed the bar of soap. He was iffy about the scent initially - something with almonds - but as he began to run the softening bar over her skin, his cock began to react. Like really react. Loren felt his hold becoming a little more firm, a groan or two would escape from his mouth as hard-on further pressed against her ass.

"Jesus fuck - you smell so fucking good," William said in low voice, sounding almost guttural.

Loren moaned. "I think this is the pheromone soap... I'll let Chelsea know that it seems to work."

Without a word, he turned Loren towards him, her breasts pressed against his chest as he kissed her hungrily. Loren gasped against his lips as her hands first cupped his face and then threaded her fingers through his hair. Pressing her up against the cold tile wall, he continued to smooth the soapy lather down between her breasts. His palms lingered before his thumbs brushed across each stiff peak with just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

William slowly knelt on one knee, his hands splayed across her abdomen as he looked up at her, his blue eyes appearing steely and full of need for her. Her breath caught again as his hands continued to move lower on her body.

From the corner of her eye, Loren caught their reflection in the glass shower door. William’s slicked-back hair looked almost brown under the water, his skin glistening as his toned muscles rippled with every movement. Her own hands slid down to smooth his wet hair, guiding him as his lips found her the top of her slit.

William slowly rose until he was face-to-face with Loren again. They looked at each other with so much affection and love, their wide smiles breaking through between every kiss.

Before Loren could say anything, William shut off the water and grabbed the plush bathrobe from a nearby hook, swiftly wrapping it around Loren. He continued to kiss her fervently as he lead her to his bed, where he gently leaned her back onto the mattress.

"How am I doing so far? Feeling a little better?" William's said, his eyes smiling.

Loren paused, then shook her head "Nej." She then broke out in a smile, saying in Swedish "Not a 'little better'. Amazing. Perfect even."

William helped her slide further up onto the mattress and then slowly opened her robe.

"Mmmmm - good...but I'm not even done yet." William said slyly while he guided her legs open and left a trail of open mouthed kisses. He glanced at the clock. More than enough time - maybe even time for a bonus orgasm for speaking Swedish he thought as he soon was gently tonguing her aching nub.

[im-suchanicegirl]

Hiya! So in some other part of tumblr Sunday is a Sinday - with this in mind, give us a random naughty headcanon for EC?

Ohhhhh 👀 it’s usually silly sunday with ec but here below the cut 😏

Kevin’s oral fixation is so intense he’d be the type to moan while giving oral, as much as receiving it

Pascal is the known throat goat ™ and the male prostitute per the band in the early days, so I’m convinced the baby face and the tongue out is just an act. He’s the one who initiates group orgies (redundant, you know what i mean)

Daniel is the real closet freak. Beware of the silent guy. Ass up, face down pushed in the mattress right after the show to get rid of of the adrenaline? Yes.

David, our beloved himbo. My headcanon is that he’s the most vocal / open about liking ass play.

Dan. Yeah, yeah. The band’s dom ™. You know what? I don’t think he’s that much of a kinky dude, he’s probably just either veeeeeery intense or playful depending his mood. He’ll be all sweet while getting a blow job and something will click and he’llpull the hair of the person on their knees.

Nico is 100% master of dirty talk. He’s got a short temper, he needs control, and he needs to prove himself. If that means fucking someone while telling them they’re not gonna have anything better and miss his cock, so be it.

[randomnameless]

"I suffered because of my crUsT" no Marianne you suffered because humans suck don't blame it on your Nabatean blood, if the Nabateans were still keeping humanity from fucking up every five seconds you would have been fine

TBH,

It's a kind of "both sides" with Marianne, with the added twist that no, the Nabatean who was eaten has no part to play, but it's all caused by Momo and the asses who randomly blame Marianne for what he did eons of years ago -

Like, if Momo wasn't an ass and wasn't happily slaughtering everything with his Nabatean Femur he called a sword, maybe he wouldn't be remembered as a butcher, and maybe, wouldn't have turned in a demonic beast (which is kind of meta in a way, even as a "human" Momo was behaving like a crazed beast).

And yet, at the same time, we have humans blaming children for the sins of their parents, and this for several generations - while it gives credence to some part of Rhea's lies calling the Dudes "Heroes" instead of revealing the Truth (tm), it's more remarkable as a demonstration of "humans are prejudiced against something they don't know" (which also, sort of justifies Rhea's lies/omissions about her being a giant lizard).

For Marianne, she blames her Crust for her suffering - when she should be blaming the peons who throw rocks at her for having said crust for said suffering.

It wasn't played like that in the game because it completely clashes with Supreme Leader, but Marianne's bg story could have been a situation where someone apologises for being born a certain way, with the cast/story telling her that hell no, you're not at fault for being born with a crust, the people at fault are the people blaming you for being born "this way".

(but then world for humanity, pointy ears cannot rule over round ears because they have pointy ears, and what not)

Fittingly, the paralogue ends with :

The blood of a beast no longer flows through me. I feel human for once

:/

Of course we can interpret the "beast" as in not beast like a four legged creature like Baldo'n'Waldi, but beast because Momo was a beast aka a butcher - and now that she put an end to him she's free from his legacy -

Still, imo, that would miss the point, because Marianne still thinks her curse (thus not feeling "human") stemmed from her blood (tied to Momo) when that's not the case - sure Momo is to blame, but she shouldn't have been shunned/blamed for having the "wrong" blood to begin with!

Where's the "people grew to despise Maurice, but you're not him, so you shouldn't bear his sins" mention?

[sunwarmed-ash]

😈Sinful Sunday Post😈

Out of context The Eden Club, Ch 10 spoilers

[gravekeeper-anna]

I know they're undead, but are they caked up? Got the dough? Hips wider then a gravestone?

Sinday Time

"A strange turn of words, to be sure..." the Gravekeeper uttered with some sign of quizzical amusement, sinking her spade with a strong strike into the giving soil. Gauntleted hands spread outward as she presented herself in all her armored, funerary glory. "I am told I was given premium parts when I was 'redressed', surpassing a 4th generation Dreadblade. I do find this shell to be quite solid, suitable. Now, I don't quite think I was made with hourglass appeal, but..." Her haunting tones deepened with a darkly playful retort. "I'll gladly step on you if you wish it, little voice."

[freelancearsonist]

YES OF COURSE?? insert oscar "that was a rhetorical question" clip

ok well one brave horny soul is enough motivation for me this one’s for you anon <3

send all your horny thots and shit for whoever you want (see tags) starting now :)

[lascidarkblueuniversensfw]

It's sinning Sunday!

Oh yes, it is a very sinning Sunday! >:3

[doumadono]

are you doing sinful sunday today..?👀

sleepy morning sex with izuku?🤭

Warnings: aged-up Izuku

SINFUL SUNDAY

Mornings are a bit of a struggle for Izuku. He often finds himself torn between the cozy embrace of the bed and the responsibilities of the day.

Izuku is all about cuddles in the morning. He wraps himself around you, seeking comfort in the warmth of your shared embrace.

You both find yourselves in that hazy state of barely being awake, your eyes half-open as you nuzzle into his neck. Your fingers gently trace a path up his chest.

Izuku lies on his back, cradling you in his arms, and he absentmindedly draws swirling patterns on your back.

Suddenly, he draws you on top of him while still beneath the covers. "Good morning, love," he murmurs, gently stroking your hips.

You roll your hips, your face still nestled in the crook of his neck. "Hey, baby."

He skillfully slides your underwear aside, slipping his own just over his hardened length. His morning erection already twitches as you rut your wetness against him. "Fuuuck," he grunts, looking up at you through half-opened eyes.

He lets out a low groan, tenderly guiding you to sink on his cock. "Oh, fuck, fuck, you're so wet and warm, holy shit..."

You whimper quietly into his shoulder.

Your bodies are snugly pressed together under the covers, and Izuku starts to thrust up into you at a leisurely pace. His hands caress your back, arms, ass.

Both of you find yourselves catching your breath, moans and pants escaping your lips, as the sweet pleasure wraps around you.

"So good," Izuku mumbles, his head rested against his pillow. "You're so good, baby, so fucking good."

You ride him leisurely, gazing down at his blissful expression with half-lidded eyes. "That's my boy. I love you so much, Izuku."

His hands skillfully massage your hips, and a quiet whine escapes him. Biting his lips, Izuku can feel the tip of his cock hitting that sensitive, spongy spot within you. "O-Oh, shit, babe…"

Izuku can deploy the famous Midoriya puppy eyes. Those wide, pleading eyes make it nearly impossible for you to resist granting him the sweetest climax he seeks.

"You wanna cum?" you whisper, stroking his cheek, and he nods.

You begin to move with increased pace, sensing his arousal building as his movements become more pronounced. It's a subtle yet unmistakable signal that he's nearing release.

Izuku moves his hips more assertively against yours, and before long, he releases his seed inside of you, moaning your name as he presses your bodies closer together, not wanting to spill even a bit. "Take it all, my love…" he whispers, "Thank you."

Your climax isn't as intense and rapid as it usually is during your normal fucking, but it still leaves you breathless, your thighs involuntarily clenching around his hips. "Oh, Izuku!"

He grins lazily as he gradually softens inside your pussy, both of you winding down. He gently guides your back to its original place at his side, holding you close. "I wouldn't mind waking up to this more often," he whispers.

[bitchinbarzal]

not only does ethan love mama e's ass and taking her from behind, he loves to wrap his hand around her neck and pull her up so her back is against his chest while he's still thrusting into her

-linkedin anon

oh I’m blushing.

I’m fully in the belief he makes her watch herself so they’re facing the mirror

she’s flush against his chest watching herself, little whimpers ass he’s grunting in her ear. His hair is sticking to his forehead with the sweat.

She’s reaching back to hold onto him somehow, anywhere. She ends up grabbing hold of his chain and grasping it.

He growls, yanking her hand off it, clasping it in his and leading them both to hold one of her boobs.

She’s just overwhelmed

[tournesolette]

❪ anonymous​​ ❫       If you're gonna start biting people Glad' maybe consider the idea of a human reciprocating. ( Affectionately ) because I certainly wouldn't mind marking that pretty neck of your's~

answered    ┊   unprompted

                   “ Eh- ” 

         “ Well, unfortunately anon, I can’t just go around promising myself to any stranger that asks. Usually I at least get a name first, so as it stands at this moment I’ll have to pass. ”

[jymwahuwu]

idk i like to think sunday is a firm believer of no sex before (cough forced) marriage. but when the vows are exchanged, the first kiss is celebrated, and the doors are closed… he’s more than ready to take you to poundtown.

he takes you in all the right angles and even in the most humiliating positions, and makes sure every hole of yours is satisfied and fulfilled.

he has an elegant smile that charms even nuns, but behind that seeming innocence and grace is a lustful sinner with a relentless libido he’s been patiently keeping away until now. he adores and coos at your dumb-looking face as you were being fucked dumb by him. what, “no more”? ah, he thinks you meant “please more” when your eyes involuntarily rolled back with your tongue lolled out. you look so happy and cute, a stark contrast to your ever so vicious, and wild nature when interacting with him.

he likes you this, so fulfilled without that savagery of yours to ruin it. he feels like he successfully domesticated a wild animal, and the only finishing touch is having your belly round with child… or children ;)

and if you ever complain or say those disgusting, sinful words against him, it’s okay. he’ll wash that filthy mouth of yours, over and over again until it’s only praise about him that’s dripping from your tongue.

tldr; sunday’s always been a freak but has hidden it all his life until he married you.

>_<🪭anon thank you for such a great story!! I love how Sunday changed after marriage. He hides his true nature and controls himself…

cw: yandere, dub-con, overstimulation, penetration, nipple stimulation, gag, spanking, reader has female reproductive system

Sunday believes in chastity before marriage and protecting chastity before eternal commitment. He does not indulge you in your desires. The body is a sacred temple and cannot be defiled.

And this not only means no sex before the wedding, it means you can't masturbate, read erotic novels, comics, watch pornographic movies, none of these are allowed. Before the engagement, Sunday showed appropriate care and closeness. After the engagement, you had just platonic dates, walking together, dining in restaurants, watching movies and playing games. Sunday likes to read some books with you and share opinions. He doesn't mind if you read books other than philosophy, even popular ones, but… there's only one category he doesn't like… He checks your browser and reading apps.

Switching accounts to browse pornographic novels/browsing pornographic websites will not work. You had done this sneakily, and after you were discovered, your hands were on the table, your underwear was on your calves, and the whip in your fiancé's hand was in close contact with your butt. Clearly, you violated his trust and indulged in lewdness.

Depending on your personality, you might scream and curse at him. Or you whimpered and repented. You emphasize that you will really correct yourself and beg for forgiveness. Both options without exception ended in a spanking. (He also tells you to bend over his lap and get spanked…it's important to bend over in humiliation first. Your butt is so sore it feels like it's burning.) After the punishment is over, Sunday rubs ointment and lotion into your butt. He puts you on his knees, wipes your tears and kisses your forehead.

It's for your own good, he insists. He derived no pleasure from it. You wisely chose not to point out his rising smile.

Wedding!! Sunday was months in preparation for the wedding. He and you exchanged vows and kissed each other. Robin even shed a few tears. She was deeply touched. She was glad that her brother had his happiness. When you get married, you think it's going to be a conservative life, like once a week, missionary position, that sort of thing.

But, no… it was completely unexpected, like you said, Sunday penetrated you at every right angle and humiliating position. He had never done it before but was a quick learner. He explores your sensitive areas and sweet spots, focusing on attacking and teasing those spots. The gloved fingers circled your areola, occasionally pinching and scraping gently. He pinched your raised nipples as if you were about to produce milk. His balls ravaged and slammed against your vulva, his elegant glans hitting your sensitive spots accurately, and his thick cylinders stretching your tight, layered flesh. Fill you with seeds not just once but several times a day. Long periods of abstinence can make you very sensitive to touch. Just caressing your breasts can bring new excitement and tremors to your body, not to mention creampie. You… squirted. When you get your first squirt, Sunday watches you curiously and the amazing amount of squirt. You look completely engaged and surrendered, muttering shakily, rolling your eyes, and spreading your legs.

"No - no more…"

Uh-huh, yes, and if you keep that mean attitude when you're in a relationship with him. The satisfaction this gives Sunday is indescribable. Watching the look in your eyes go from aggressive to melting into orgasm, screaming and begging for no more rounds. You didn't know that a man who had been abstinent before turned out to be like this… His load that had been accumulated for a long time was released inside you, flowing through and filling you up. His cock stayed inside you for a moment, until it was hard again and the thrust returned, slamming into your ass.

And wash your mouth haha, that's a little too hardcore(?) for me and that's just for being a mean and condescending reader. Sunday might not like a rough approach, so… maybe a gag? As long as you keep being mean and saying horrible shit, eventually your mouth will get gagged. All you could say was "mmm!!" and "eh", "wh…" and other unwritten sounds, and you glared at him. Regardless, eventually you'll learn how to compliment him properly and without any swear words. (If Sunday realizes your taunt, he will put the gag in your mouth again without hesitation.)

All in all, you discovered another side of Sunday after marriage. Maybe he is not an ascetic man. He knows how to control. He knows he wants you.

[vxnuslogy]

— what does it mean to be a star?

pairing: sunday x gn!reader

premise: sunday has stayed with you and the stellaron hunters for a few years. your lives has been filled with many adventures, both good and bad. but like any other story crafted by elio, they must come to an end eventually.

– warnings: slight angst if you squint, implications of committing suicide, not proofread that much.

– author’s note: one final (?) stellaron hunter!sunday fic before he gets released. ive missed writing for this man. art credits to 冒火锅海台 on Weibo for the art. | 1.9k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @https-sourlimes @dazaisms ; if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know by sending an ask off anon or filling out the forms in my pinned !!!

“what do you think makes a star, a star?”

elio asked you that question decades ago. and only now have you arrived at one final answer. out of curiosity, you asked each hunter the same question over the years that have passed, each of them giving one answer that didn’t quite match the rest.

“to be the top player of course!” silver wolf exclaimed, her tone in a matter of fact manner as she didn’t even look up from her console. you only shook your head in amusement, jotting her answer down in a new journal your boss had given you as a present.

“a star you ask,” kafka tilted her head curiously at you. eyes freed from her usual contacts and makeup followed your movement as you stirred the coffee in your cup. “well, a star for me would be something that captures the attention of others without much effort. stars often piqued your interest, didn’t they?” you only smiled in response and nodded. you made a mental note to write it down later before you went to bed.

firefly took a little longer than the last two to answer. you patiently waited, spooning pieces of cake to your lips as the girl in front of you was deep in thought. “a guide. even in your darkest moment, a star will shine as a guide for you to follow so you don’t stray from your path.” she answered in a whisper. eyes wistful as she played with the dessert on her plate. 

“a star,” blade’s gruff voice cut through the night like a knife. a few bottles of local xianzhou wine separating you two as you sat on the roof overlooking the stars above. you hadn’t expected blade of all people to humor your questions, but here you were, grateful in his presence. “it means to burn. so brightly you are unrecognizable, to others and yourself.”

“you have a sad answer,” you mutter, taking a sip of the wine from the small cup as the man huffs. 

“time takes a heavy toll for both you and i,” the wind sways his hair in a deathly dance. he brings his cup to his lips and drinks in one go. you don’t mention how you can barely finish a cup with how strong the drink was—blade could not feel the pain of it in his throat, and he never will. “you’ve already burned through the remains of your past self. it won’t be long before you look in the mirror and be unable to recognize your reflection.”

you frown at his response. “you’re pessimistic.”

“and you’re hypocritical.”

you have no rebuttal to his accusation, after all, at the very core of your character, the word “hypocrite” hangs like a thorny crown. 

“tell me, starcatcher,” red eyes reflected the conflict you’ve been massing deep within the columns of your bones. they crash onto your being like how the oceans do to the shores—unrelenting and loud. “are you that afraid of losing another that you love them as if tomorrow they’ll die?”

you fled the roof that night. unable to face your hopelessness head on after a fresh wound of death lingers by your heart. another attempt, another reminder of the welling darkness that swells from the tip of your fingers and slowly corrupts your entire body. it drowns you and you can’t help but fear that time is clutching your shoulder, weighing you down to the ocean floor as it laughs at your predicament.

“so it’s decided then.”

but that’s no longer the case. no, not anymore. it's been decades since then, and you’ve changed.

elio sits by his office chair, typewriter moved to the side as he personally penned the final bits of your songbird’s script. you were elio’s editor and proofreader. you don’t exactly remember when it started but when you were still an unwilling understudy—an actor who refused to acknowledge the stage—he would trap you in his office and force you to read over his script to make sure there were no errors.

a small and sad smile tugged at your lips as you read the pages of inked fate. “this is for the best.”

“the best, yes,” elio ceases his writing. compiling the papers into one bulk and staring right at you. “but it's not the ending you wanted.”

you shook your head, “my preferred ending isn’t relevant to how the story ends. it’s not my story to tell.”

“yes, but it's a story you’re meant to read,” there was pity in his eyes. your heart felt too heavy with realization to even feel offended by such a look. “you have the right to feel dissatisfied.”

“thank you, elio, truly,” you only gave destiny’s slave one final smile before standing. you quietly made your way to the door, forcing your steps to sound quiet and lacking sadness. but you can’t do that, you never will. building up walls will only prove to be a waste of effort. not when elio knows every brick by heart.

with a heavy sigh, you linger by the office door before making your way to your workshop. memories from years ago flood your mind as the halls fill your senses. photos from vacation, missions, and simple outings hang by the walls while certain trinkets and relics from bygone travels litter the many desks and drawers. time did take a heavy toll just like blade said. kafka’s skin started to wrinkle a bit, silver wolf started growing taller, firefly grew paler and paler, and blade looked more like death with every breath he took.

time was a painful thing to remember—it’s not infinite. and even if it was, it's never always kind to everyone. and you? you are worse than time and death itself. you were the inevitable–finality. 

“good morning, [name].”

a voice from behind greets you like a new sunrise–a reminder that a new day is here. you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. seeing sunday in blade’s shirt hang over his body like a blanket, firefly’s hair ties on his wrists and a spare console from silver wolf in one hand brings you so much joy. 

“sunday, good morning!” you sounded breathless. tucking both hands behind your back to hide your shaking as he joined you on your way to the workshop he’s made as his makeshift nest.

sunday smiles—filled with all the hope you’ve craved and lost. it stings your heart like a needle but you don’t show it. you’re first to look away, like all the other times in his presence, unable to face the way his wings flutter and smile twitch in concern.

when you reach the workshop, you flicker the lights on and sunday makes himself at home. sitting by the windowsill as you sat down by your table. scattered fabrics for sunday’s final mission lay in your hands, and you’d be damned if you messed up now. even with a heavy heart, you willed your hands to work, all the while ignoring the concerned stare of the angel sunbathing by the window.

the two of you spend the first few hours of morning in each other’s quiet presence before your tongue itches to ask him a question. “sunday,” you call his name and you curse the flutter in your chest when he immediately looks at you. he noticed his overly quick response and covered half of his face with a fist, pretending to hide a cough instead of his coloring cheeks.

“yes?” he asks, attention solely on you as you pin the needle back on the cushion and smooth out any creases.

“what does it mean to be a star?”

he blinked owlishly at your question. a soft hum escaped his lips as his fingers tapped on the rim of his cup in contemplation. “is there…” he tests the waters—seeing if it's too hot or too cold. “any particular occasion for you to ask me a question?”

you shake your head in amusement when his more formal tone slips out. “no, not at all. just a little tradition is all.”

“well, then,” the words die out on his tongue. every once in a while, sunday would peer at you like a lost child but you’d only nod encouragingly. “a star means to be remembered.” he looked out the window, watching the clouds pass by in a blur. “even if they aren’t always there, you know they exist.”

sometimes you wonder if it's possible for sunday to look at himself through the lens of your eyes. he was beautiful like the praise of idrila, happiness like aha’s laughter, and the curiosity for adventure like akivili. sunday wasn’t just a star, he was the entire universe. and he remained blissfully unaware of it.

“[name], is everything all right?” 

you’re snapped out of your daze when you feel his hand on your cheek. lost in the replays of sunday’s image in your mind, you didn’t notice the stray tears that had betrayed your image of an unbothered editor. 

“please, don’t cry,” he whispers, pressing your foreheads together. his thumb gently wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes. you can’t help but chuckle. sunday truly was like a sponge when it comes to others’ habits.

“what hurts you so?”

“what makes you think i’m hurt?” quite frankly, you were hurt. so incredibly hurt by his eventual departure but your heart knows his stay was only temporary. but that didn’t mean you never hoped. 

hoped. over the course of a few years, sunday had succeeded in the mission the other hunters failed at. he made you hope again.

“kafka is cooking everyone’s breakfast. it’ll surely brighten up your mood.” he states taking your hand in his and tugging you in the direction of the dining room and kitchen. sunday maneuvered through the headquarters with such ease your ribs began to clamp on your heart again.

this was his home, his respite. but only for a short time.

when the two of you enter the room, you notice his frown. the emotions of everyone were palpable—it felt suffocating. your eyes met blade and you just smiled. one deep breath in and you snapped back into your joyous self. bringing temporary light to the room.

even as you ate and chatted, there were undertones of sadness. sunday nudged your side and quietly asked you, “are you quite sure everything is alright? everyone seems sad today.”

you look at them one by one. kafka’s eyes are slowly being accompanied by eye bags and wrinkles, silver wolf is nearing blade’s shoulder, firefly looks paler, and blade’s hand shakes as he holds his chopsticks. you look at sunday’s eyes, and smile. even he was a victim of time with the way his hair grew longer and face filled with more life.

“they’re just worried,” you look away first like always. meeting blade’s gaze halfway and smiling to yourself when you see him huff in denial. “your next mission is here.”

what does it mean to be a star? elio asked you that question a long, long time ago. and you only found the answer in the form of an angel with wings behind his ears and eyes that shined like the sun. the star you’ve grown to love burns brighter than the sun but still requires rest when night falls. 

to be a star means to be remembered, even in the face of departure. you remain bright and unforgotten. left in the care of a conductor and an express you’ve once loved.

to be a star means to face the inevitable that sunday was meant for greater things than being just a fugitive venturing the universe.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[hoffmansgirl]

SALVATORE ━ father charlie mayhew 𒋲ㅤ͏

PART 1.・ PART 2 (coming soon)

summary. in search of understanding and compassion, y/n finds herself growing fond of her new priest and teacher, father charlie mayhew.

a/n: holyyy i'm so excited for this! it is based off a request that i can't find atm, anon u know who u are :D as always feedback is deeply appreciated & requests are open ♡

tw. blasphemy; subtle touches; slight praise?; father charlie is a teaseeeee! (basically, nothing too extreme just yet) | wc. 2862

Y/N was sitting in the schoolyard, pen moving against the page of her journal swiftly as she lost herself in the little world she created in her head. The feeling of grass on her bare legs somewhat comforting, taking off some of the stress blooming in her chest.

It was almost finals season in the catholic university she went to. Every few seconds she could hear the other girls' worried voices, discussing the importance of the finals, almost as if their lives depended on it.

Y/N leaned against the tree, deep sigh leaving her mouth as she closed her journal, fingers brushing against the cover almost lovingly. She looked around, the sun almost hiding behind the stone brick walls. A few groups of girls were scattered around the yard, girls she barely spoke to. It wasn't that they weren't kind, she just didn't feel like fraternising with any of them.

She was just... different. Slightly older than most of them, although no one besides the nuns and teachers knew that. And she wasn't really a believer. Her parents were. made her go to the church every sunday, pray every night. They did everything to make her the perfect daughter, but they failed.

It was probably a form of self defence; some kind of a protest against everything her family wanted her to be. She became a sinner. Got drunk, took drugs, smoked, and even slept with a boy or two. The last one made her parents so angry and so disappointed that they made a decision to send her to a catholic college. A catholic, girls' only college. The loneliness she felt in the place almost made her regret everything she's done in the past.

Y/N got up from the grass and straightened her skirt when the big clock on the wall struck a quarter to six. She had a mass to attend to, and it was obligatory to pass the semester.

Some of the girls looked at her when she passed, some greeted her with a smile. their souls so pure, so untouched, she almost felt jealous.

She entered the church soon after, the soft clicking of her Mary Janes against the marble floor disturbing the quietness of the temple. The smell of incense filled her nostrils, so familiar yet so distant at the same time. The church was still empty as she sat in the third row, staring down at her hands. Goosebumps covered the skin of her legs, the cold air making her shiver slightly. She folded her hands in a prayer, kneeling and focusing on the cross behind an altar.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with you forever in the next", she chanted, voice quiet, eyes closing involuntarily.

She made the sign of the cross, feeling somewhat better after the short prayer. Her eyes opened, and she looked at the cross behind an altar, a small smile adoring her face. It was almost as if she could feel His presence next to her.

"I don't mean to interrupt", a low, yet soft voice came from behind her, and she was quite surprised at the fact she couldn't recognise it. Y/N turned her head, and her breath hitched at the sight of a young man in a cassock. His dark hair slicked back perfectly, and oh lord, he was so handsome, all of him. He looked more like a personal trainer of some sort than a priest. She could see his muscles even through the thick material of his gown. He walked towards her slowly, hands behind his back, pink mouth turning upwards, offering her a kind smile. "That was beautiful. It's rare to see someone so dedicated to prayer these days. Especially someone as young as you", he continued, now standing next to her as she kept wide eyes on him, his much bigger form towering over her. She cleared her throat, heart pounding in her chest. Y/N's cheeks burned as she realised he was waiting for an answer, playful glint in his eyes at the sight of her abashment.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to offend you..." the words word came out unsure, his intense gaze focused on her face, as if he was trying to memorise every detail about her. the young man nodded, meeting her eyes, and something dangerous sparked in his dark irises just for a moment. "I haven't seen you around here before".

"Of course. I should've introduced myself sooner, forgive me. I'm Father Charlie Mayhew", he clarified, the way his name rolled off his tongue made Y/N shift uncomfortably, hands shaking on her lap.

"I'm Y/N", she retorted quickly. "I'm so sorry for the directness, Father... but you are so young for a priest".

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, body finally starting to relax.

"And you seem too old to be a third year student, yet here you are", he noted playfully, sitting next to her on a wooden bench. Y/N gasped in disbelief at his sarcastic comment, the urge to laugh too strong now as she pressed her lips together in attempt to stop it.

She crossed her legs, the already short skirt riding up her thigh, and Father Charlie wasn't oblivious to that. She didn't notice the way his jaw tightened, shaky breath leaving his mouth, gaze lingering on her bare skin for a little bit too long.

"I must admit, Father", she started, leaning back against the cold wood, eyes focused on the altar, hands back on her lap in order to warm herself up. "I haven't confessed in ages. And never of my own accord", she spoke softly, the weight of her sins unbearable now, her head tilting to look at him, "And I'm not a saint. I've done a lot of things i'm not proud of. i still do", she admitted, the last sentence coming out as a whisper. She expected to see disgust in his eyes, maybe some signs of pity; yet all she found was an understanding going deeper than she would've expected. Father Charlie nodded, deep sigh leaving his mouth. He cocked his head, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his jaw clenched uncontrollably, the air between heavy, weird tension rising between the two.

Her eyes followed his every single move, unable to look away, mesmerised by his angelic presence.

"We are all sinners, Y/N", Father Charlie met her eyes, yet he looked absent, as if there were other things bothering him at the moment. "If you ever feel the need to talk, about anything, I will be more than happy to help. Come to me anytime", he reached for her leg, never breaking eye contact as he traced his thumb over her thigh softly. His words seemed so ambiguous, so wrong, almost blasphemous, considering his position. Yet she nodded her head politely, her gaze landing on his lips, need beginning to consume every single part of her body.

In that moment, she felt like she could trust him with her life. His presence so intimidating yet comforting, like a warm hug that she oh so desperately needed.

"I will keep that in mind. thank you, Father", Y/N pressed her thighs together, licking her lips nervously. He nodded, squeezing her thigh for the last time before standing up. Y/N shivered at the sudden coldness surrounding her, thigh burning from his soft touch. Charlie's eyes running over her form for the last time before he turned away and left.

Y/N exhaled, gripping at the edges of the pew tightly, and she swore she could hear her own heartbeat in the quietness of the church.

Lust. Yet another sin to add to the already long list. The very thing that made her parents send her to a catholic school, yet here she was, desire consuming every part of her body as she saw Father Charlie in the back of her mind, the memory of his warm hand on her thigh making her head spin. She felt pathetic at having such unholy thoughts about a freaking priest, the old version of her, the sinner, buried deep inside, beginning to set her body aflame, and it scared her.

She almost laughed hysterically at the ridiculousness of her current position as she looked at the altar again. The cross behind it almost mocking her, it's as if she could feel the disappointment of her Lord as she gazed at it blankly, the image of Father Charlie's smile appearing in her head yet again.

A few days passed, and it was as if Father Charlie vanished into thin air. It made Y/N wonder if he wasn't all an illusion, some sort of manifestation of her desires. Ever since the rather unusual encounter in the church, she hasn't seen him. His words echoed in her mind pretty often. "Come to me anytime". He had to be real. She actually contemplated reaching out to him, going into the church fifteen minutes before the mass started in hope of seeing him again.

Yet he never came. And she was disappointed; she grew fond of him, even though they only talked once. Loneliness sparked in her chest yet again, now more than ever. Yet she continued with her classes, being as perfect as ever, never letting anyone see through her. The only thing she could think of was his him, a devilishly handsome priest, whose eyes haunted her even in dreams.

When Y/N woke up that morning, sun shining through the curtains, an image of Father Charlie appeared in her mind once again. She hated herself for thinking about him so often, yet his smile seemed to be stuck in her head, his voice echoing through her head like some sort of a dreamy psalm.

It was Wednesday; which meant there was a hard day ahead of her. Bible reading classes with Sister Megan, whom she adored, very much, but her presence felt melancholic, as if she was sucking the life out of Y/N. She was so pure, as every single girl in the university, and it made her angry. Angry because she couldn't relate to any of them, angry because the only person who seemed to understand her was Father Charlie. Father Charlie who disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

She groaned at the thought of him, rubbing her eyes slowly, stretching, dramatic yawn leaving her mouth.

The air felt hot on her skin, smile appearing on her face nonetheless, eyes squinting involuntarily as she took in the weather outside the window. It was such a beautiful day, summer air making her feel better as she got up slowly, starting to get ready for the day.

It was ten past eight as she left her room, locking it before walking down the hallway to leave the residence hall, her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she walked, the silence almost suffocating, a musky smell of the antique building filling her lungs. She took a left and walked through the classroom door confidently.

"Good morning, Sister", she looked at the spot behind the teacher's desk, expecting to see Sister's Megan contagious smile, yet she was met with Father Charlie's intense gaze.

She inhaled softly at the sight of him as she stopped in the middle of the class, heart throbbing in her throat. She was mad that, once again, he looked absolutely breathtaking; not wearing a cassock this time, instead there was a black suit that cling perfectly to his muscular body. His ring glistened in the sun as he drummed his fingers against the desk, back pressed against the back of the chair comfortably, legs spread wide, almost inviting her to come in between them, and her heart throbbed with longing at the sight.

"Well, good morning, Y/N", he smiled and looked her up and down shamelessly, his gaze making her feel small as she returned his smile hesitantly.

"Cha- Father", Y/N breathed, chewing on her bottom lip, unsure what to say. He was the last person she expected to see, but she was relieved to see him. "Is Sister Megan sick?"

She walked to the front desk slowly, putting her bag down on the wood, eyes never leaving his form.

"No need to worry. Sister Megan is perfectly fine. Although I will be the one to conduct the Wednesday classes from now on", he explained, flashing his white teeth at her as he smiled. She thought that he looked really happy to see her; happiness bloomed in Y/N's chest, body starting to get warm, heat lingering in between her thighs.

"Good", she breathed a little bit too enthusiastically, the excitement obvious in her voice. "I wanted to come and see you, Father, but it seems as if you were... absent", she wet her lips, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt mindlessly, battling her eyelashes. The gesture made Charlie twitch in his seat; her faked innocence was adorable, her body and eyes betraying her true intentions right away.

"Yes, I was quite busy", he sighed, getting up abruptly. "Why did you want to see me? Did something happen?", Charlie asked, genuinely curious as he walked over to Y/N, standing right in front of her crossed legs. Her breath hitched as she looked up, meeting his gaze, tensing at the closeness.

"I...", she hesitated, "I don't know".

A lie.

He half-smiled as y/n uncrossed her legs, gripping the edges of the desk until her knuckles turned white. Her chest heaved with uneven breaths, yet she never looked away from his eyes, tension inside of her stomach ready to snap anytime now.

"Y/N...", he leaned in, "Lying is a sin".

Charlie took a step back, his gaze hardening, almost becoming demanding as he clenched his jaw.

"Luke, 8:17", his voice almost taunting as he challenged her, dangerous glint in his dark irises.

Her palms became sweaty as she chanted: "For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light".

Charlie's smile almost predatory, adoration taking over his features as he tilted his head, hand reaching out to put a strand of Y/N's hair behind her ear. The girl's eyes fluttered shut as she exhaled through her mouth, the feeling of his warm hand on her cheek so right, as if he was meant just for her.

"Smart girl", he praised, voice low and proud. He dropped his hand, backing off and she finally felt like she could breathe again. She hated herself for enjoying his touch and words so much, his position more exciting than terrifying now. Yet they both knew he shouldn't be doing this, using her submissiveness to feed his own sick fantasies, teasing her until she broke. But there was no denying the effect he had on her, panties damp from the arousal coating them, embarrassment and guilt heavy on her chest, yet the lust blooming in her stomach stronger.

The air around her felt cold, even though it was hot outside. She so desperately wanted him to touch her again, but she woke up from the trance quickly, clearing her throat as the clock struck eight thirty.

"I'm sorry, Father", her voice barely above a whisper as she fixed her hair, jumping off from the desk as she heard her classmates' hushed voices from the corridor.

Y/N sat down across from him as she lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, face flushed as she tried to maintain her balance. Charlie's appearance as perfect as before as he sat back on the chair casually; disappointment bloomed in her chest at his stoic posture, thinking that it didn't affect him at all.

"You need to confess before the weight of your sins crushes you, Y/N", his voice dangerously low yet steady, spark in his dark eyes, before he greeted the other students as they walked in. Professional look on his face, the one she hasn't seen before, as he started the class, his words inaudible as she followed his every move with curious eyes.

Father Charlie was not just a priest. Something about him made her crave for him, all of him. He seemed to understand her so well, even though they barely spoke. She found comfort in his demanding yet affectionate manner, the way he praised her, touched her softly, almost as if he expected her to break if he pushed too hard. Heart filled with longing as she followed the movement of his lips, the way his silver cross necklace glistened in the sunlight. Dimples appearing on his face when he smiled at something her classmate said, dark eyes that kept on meeting her own.

So divine yet so cruel.

So tempting yet so forbidden.

━━━━━━━━━━

2024, hoffmansgirl ©

nicholas alexander chavez masterlist ✿ | about the author

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hi!! I’m a little lurker who only did one request once and I forgot what happened to that one so I have a different request!!

can you…uhm…write a little thing about priest!fyodor who believes reader to be a god but reader just a normal human?

And like human is a virgin and…you know where I’m going with this.

A worshiper Fyodor taking his beloved God’s virginity by riding reader until he passes out from how many times Fyodor bounced on his cock.

idk I just can’t stop thinking about it but I don’t think I worded it pretty well and you have pretty words soooo…

I’m sorry for bothering you with this imma just

go back to lurking once more…

but if I could bother you again? Can I be 🕶️ anon please?

This is similar to something I have started long ago! On my old blog! But it got deleted along with my drafts :’)

Dom!reader x sub!priest!fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (I use dick), use of condom (wow scary), no prep, cum play (licking), hierophilia, corruption, taking virginity, worshipping, fucking in a church, dacryphilia, handjob, cumming untouched, mind break, sub space, bruises, god - worshipper relationship

It happened the moment he laid his eyes on you. When you walked in, pass the grand wooden door and slandered through the small halls. That miraculous day was Sunday, morning to be precise, and you came in late for the morning chant. Everyone who sat on the benches turned their head to look at you, some with scorn, some with a mocking grin. You looked unfazed and went straight to the first row, keeping eye contact with one single person, the priest in charge.

That cold attitude despite the loud voices, the way your every move was as smooth and elegant as clear water. Your expression after sitting down, lips shut while keeping your arrogant eyes on him, as if to judge him, to attest to something. All that appeared divine in his eyes, superior even, it caused a shudder to run down his spine. He had never felt such a pressing sensation before, it was the first time.

You were staring at him so much, though he couldn’t read your intentions. Nothing, only emptiness. A gentle breeze, that brought forth comfort, turning into an icy storm capable of destruction. These words would be perfect to describe you, or how his view of you, because everyone else seems to think otherwise. Most of them scoffed about you coming in late, those little complains soon changed into more vicious words. Like a devils curse, causing the once friendly guests to sin.

“Dear father, may we continue with the morning prayers?” Among the low whispers of the devil, a voice akin to an angels emerged. “Excuse me..?” Fyodor murmured, eyes subconsciously darting to the direction of the sound. Once again, it was you who called out to him. A blush crept onto his cheeks when he noticed your piercing gaze, it was a little embarrassing that he dazed out there. “Yes, of course, pardon my inattentiveness.” The priest said, glancing at you a last time before focusing on his duties. Or at least he tried, because he couldn’t concentrate. The entire time he found himself stealing glances at you, watching you. This wasn’t like him, he couldn’t even recognise himself.

From then onwards, he found himself searching for your eyes or attention. It began with him asking around about you, then it gradually turned into him actively seeking you out. Your meetings became more frequent, and more private as well. One day, he found you kneeling in the confession box, boringly staring through the bars. He quickly positioned himself, then asked, “what brings you to me, my child?”

Seeing you up close was a new experience, he felt the tingly sensation crawling around his body again. “Father, I’m here because I believe you have something to confess.” You said with a voice coated in sweet honey. “Me, confess?” The priest mumbled, obviously baffled by your words no matter how he adored your voice. “That’s right, I can see. If you have something to say, do it now.” After hearing you out, he swallowed the lump in his throat, before smiling at you meekly and admitting, “I fear I’m not loyal to my god anymore.”

It took a lot out of him, a servant of god, to utter these words. Of course it wasn’t without reason. Simply being in your presence made him feel special and watched, as if those nonchalant eyes of yours were the watching gaze of god. He couldn’t explain it, it was a chilly feeling, but at the same time it burned him from the inside. “Speak, father.” You spoke, then he suddenly slammed his hands against the wall separating the two of you. “My lord, you don’t have to speak politely with me. I, Fyodor, this lowly subject of yours, am ready to serve you with all my heart.” The male announced, smiling at you in delight, cheeks rosy as he declared you as his new god.

Anyone who heard this would have thought he was out of his mind, staring at him with a face that screams the word disbelief. But not you, contrary to what one would expect, your expression stayed neutral. “My subject? Lord?” You questioned his choice of vocabularies, tilting your head to the side. “Yes, oh lord, please let þis servant worship you.” Then, to your surprise, the father you were supposed to confess to kneeled down and clasped his hands together, praying to you with a sickening obsession.

That shivering, oppressive feeling didn’t leave him alone, it gnawed at him and told him this was the right thing to do. He couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do or not, all that wasn’t important anymore. Since his deity has come down and granted him an audience, he only has to follow their- your orders from now on.

Whatever got him acting this way was all in his head, you were nowhere near of being a god. Quite the opposite, you were just a human like him, and you found his actions irritating. But you weren’t any better, you didn’t correct him, rather, you liked that desperate look on his face. You wanted to test his limits, to see how far he’d go for you. In truth you enjoyed playing god for him, depending on who you are asking this might be even more twisted than what fyodor was pulling off.

It started with you getting him to do bothersome stuff for you, sometimes it also became materialistic. Other times you would just converse with him and enjoy his company. He’d ask tausend questions about you, some trivial, some existential ones. Most of the time you’d put up with his antics, acting like a benevolent and nice deity. That’s when one day, one of his curiosities caught you off guard. It was when he asked you:

“my lord, do.. you want me to comfort you?” You stared at him with furrowed brows and scoffed “comfort? Where did you get that idea?” “You look stressed my lord, I wish I could do something for you.” Fyodor said, he was on his knees in front of you, who was sitting on a bench in a huge room. The room where each Sunday a crowd of people would come in for morning prayers.

He looked up at you with foggy eyes, hands itching to worship your body. How could someone be this divine and perfect? Obviously he was the chosen one, he was born to meet you. “That… I’ve never done anything like that before. Speaking of which, have you, as a priest?” You questioned, a tiny bit interested. “No, I kept my chastity for you, my god.” Fyodor answered shamelessly, then thought about what you told him.

If what you said was right, then he awfully wanted to give his first to you, and to be your first as well. To take the virginity of his most beloved god and to give, there was nothing more he could ask of. “Is that so?” Your warm voice broke off the momentary silence, then you continued with, “come here.” You tapped your thighs, wondering if he would do it. Did he believe in you enough to commit something that has always been taboo for him? A part of you doubted it, but you wished he’d obey you yet again.

The boy stared at your moving hands for a while, then did as you instructed, climbing onto your lap with reddened cheeks. “…like this?” He raised his arms, about to wrap them around your neck but decided against that. Then he bawled them into fists and kept them behind his back, before grinding against your crotch with his own bulge. “Nghh... fo-forgive me, hah I-lord, can I please continue?" Fyodor mumbled with squinted eyes, biting his bottom lip while he let his desires take over. You grabbed his waist, wrinkling his black robe and stopping him, whispering, "D-don't move, not in the church." Your conscious forbid you from carrying out such acts in a holy place. Sure, you provoked him first, though you didn’t expect it to escalate this soon.

He begged you with glistening, teary eyes, hoping you'd let him go further than that. It felt so good he couldn't stop, he has never even touched himself before so that simple gesture was enough to make him drool. "P-please." Fyodor groaned into your ear, his voice has never been this needy or lewd, it surprised both of you. Instead of stopping when you told him to, he continued to grind against you and whimper, "use me however you see fit, my lord, please let me he-help you." You clenched your teeth, use is a strong word. It’d be a lie to say you weren't aroused, so you sighed and complied with his request, "dammit, fine. Go and get my bag."

This was how you were going to have your first? Giving it to a crazy priest who believes you were a being above humanity? Who would have guessed…

You watched him get off with shaky legs, the spot between his legs was all wet and sticky already. Was it normal to be this sensitive? It's probably because he's a virgin, just look at him eagerly bringing your stuff to you. Once he came back, you fumbled around in your bag, luckily you always brought your stuff with you in case of a spontaneous one-night-stand. It never happened before, yet you knew you would need it one day. After you were done with the preparations, you opened a pack of condom, about to pull it over your length when he clasped his hand over yours. "L-let me do it." He proposed, hands shaking with embarrassment as he took slowly pulled it down to the shaft. You almost laughed because he was making such a big deal out of it, sweating furiously with an ashamed gaze.

"Do you find it dirty to touch it?" You chuckled after watching him for a bit, finding his reactions pretty amusing. "No-no.!! No.. that, I-I'm.." His face heat up again as he tried to find the right words. In the end he decided to just speed up the entire thing, and grabbed the bottle of lube that was in your other hand. Then he squeezed the contents onto your dick and spread it evenly, wondering if this would even fit. After a minute, you grabbed his wrist and scoffed, "are you done playing?" Out of nervousness and excitement he forgot to stick it inside him, looking away in shame before lining the tip up with his hole.

"HnnGgh.. this is h-hard.." he complained under his breath, trying his best to take you. You wanted to prepare him first, but he said he wanted the first thing to enter him to be you and not some fingers. Since that was what he wanted, you decided to let him be. That's what led to your current situation, where he's desperately poking his entrance with your dick. “NghhHg..! Ah, f-feels good..” Finally he managed to take your tip, already panting like he had ran a marathon. "Good job." You praised him, then caressed his soft thighs. They were covered by his clothes, which annoyed you a little, so you gripped his hips and butt before slamming him down your cock. "AhhHGGgNN.!? AahHH..! H-hurts.." He moaned out loudly, then slumped against your chest, fingers clawing at you for support.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, his body shivered at the sudden impact. You were stretching him so much, he could swear his butt was going to tear. At the same time he was so happy, enjoying this to the fullest. His insides were working overtime, trying to accommodate your thickness and length, his rim clenching and loosening up with each inhale. He made such sinful noises when your hands squeezed his snatched waist, to the point you wondered if he was telling the truth earlier. After waiting for him to stop holding onto you like his life depended on it, you cupped his cheeks, making him look up at you. “Look here, fyodor, tell me how good it feels.” Then you grind your hips against his.

The movements were minimal, you didn’t make him ride you yet, only pushing it slightly deeper inside him. Yet the reaction was better than expected. He arched his back, throwing his arms around your neck out of reflex and whined, “ahHhH!! I-i love it, god, it’s so NGhh m-my insides are tingling..♡” You clicked your tongue, grabbing his butt to have a better grip and praised him, “so good for me.. there’s to turning back now, you don’t mind sinning for me, right?” He didn’t even think twice before saying, “I’ll do whatever you want me to..!”

After getting his permission, you told him to hold onto you tightly. Once he did as you commanded, you manhandled him and made him go up and down your dick. Your little worshipper wasn’t particularly short, rather, he was unusually light. He couldn’t even keep a straight face composure anymore, crashing against you once again as he moaned into your ears. Poor boy was crying due to the overwhelming pleasure, thighs trying to close together in a twitching manner and toes curled off the ground. Drool dripped down his chin and soaked your clothes, all while he moaned out your Titel.

“L-lord, god.. ah, please!! S-slow down.. ngHh, too much, too big..♡♡” his voice became higher with each trust, and bruises began to form around his hips because of your rough grip. “Didn’t you say I can do what I want?” You reminded him, licking your lips when you saw his melting face. How those beautiful water drops raced down his cheeks like soft rain against a window. His pupils even formed little hearts to match that pleasure-ridden gaze in his eyes. Most of his bangs stuck to his forehead, the rest of his hair bounced around whenever you made him ride you.

Then you said fuck it and ripped his priest robe, so that you’d have more access to his skin. “Hu-hUHmnn..?! M-my lord! AhhHNN!!” He shrieked when he noticed one of your hand on his inner thighs, pinching and groping his skin. “W-why there..? Nghhh…” Fyodor groaned, a tad embarrassed by the intimate touch. His deity was touching him after all. Alone the thought of you, his one and only god, fucking him and using him was enough to get him to the verge of cumming.

More precum leaked from his shameless tip, soiling the back of your hand. “M-m’sorry, so-sorry..ah, for being d-dirty..!” He immediately apologised, holding your wrist weakly and bringing it to his lips. Then he slowly licked off the pre, using kitten licks that looked so inexperienced and adorable that you had to tease him more. Sticking your finger into his mouth and snapping your hips against his. Fastening your pace, going rougher and deeper, rutting into him like he was some fleshlight. At this point his petite body won’t be able to take it! He’s so slim and vulnerable, it’d be a shame to break his mind and make him your toy, wouldn’t it?

“MhmMNN… ah, r-right there..Nghh, too f-fast, g-god! feels good~ ♡” Fyodor mewled into your ears, squeaking as he tried to shake his ass for you. But he was more on the passive side, letting you move his body however you saw fit. His sloppy and slutty hole was making squelching noises whenever you bottom out in him, all sticky with lube already. You were so caught up in the moment, you weren’t even sure what you were doing. All you knew was you wanted to touch him, to feel up his figure and trace the outlines of his body. Then you kissed his neck, causing him to whimper uncontrollably. “Hnghh… I- mHhm, l-lord help me.. I want more♡ something is coming out..!!” The boy gasped and smiled, grinning satisfied, the expression almost looked dumb.

You did as he asked of you, slamming him down onto your dick harder and trying to hit his sweet spot more often. The way it rubbed and played with his soft and warm walls made him see the light, or he was just about to blank out. “Nghh! F-forgive me.. for my siiiinnns..!! ♡♥︎～” The priest, Fyodor, your exclusive worshipper and toy servant groaned a last time before shooting ropes of cum out of his twitching member. His thick and filthy cum got everywhere. From his ripped clothes to his milky inner thighs and chest. Then he slumped down, pleasure and sensations he never felt before all coursing through him at once. He felt so good, this was the first time he felt this amazing. It must be due to you, because of your blessings.

Oh how lucky he was to serve such a kindhearted and generous god, who was patient enough to show him all this bliss. This was heavenly~ His body was still a shaking, twitching mess. The lingering ecstasy making him sob and moan louder. After giving him a gift this great, he will have to serve you even more diligently and wholeheartedly! He will make sure to worship and treasure whatever you gave him!

Even you had to catch up your breath since the session was so intense, panting a little while still admiring him. You were still inside him, and he was clenching down onto you without letting you pull out. Then you leaned back against the lean of the bench, signing when you realised what you just did. Now you were definitely going to hell. Fucking a priest in the praying halls, were you possessed? Right before you could tell him to get off, since you two had to clean up, he took off his clothes completely. “Huh..? Fyodor?” You whispered in disbelief. Sure, you ruined his robes, but why did he take them off?

It was the first time you saw him entirely naked, and he was as skinny as you noticed him to be. His nipples were all hard and pink, a cute colour in your opinion. A few seconds later, he re-positioned himself in your lap despite his legs giving up under him. Then, he slowly rode you, jumping up and down while wrapping one hand around his shaft. You rushed to stop him, saying, “wait a sec- shouldn’t we, especially you, take a break?” Seriously, for how sickly and pathetic he looks, he had quit the stamina? Instead of obeying you like normally, fyodor smirked obsessively and moaned, “G-god, forgive me for i-indulging..! Ahhh.. I’m so sinful, I deserve punishment. But..!! it’s just so good I can’t stop ♥︎♡.”

What…? Wait- isn’t this priest too slutty…?? It seems you’ll have to suck it up and wait until he milked himself dry on your dick ♥︎