#The Holiest Of Sins

[blkmorticia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝟐 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. AARON TAYLOR JOHNSON X BLACK!READER

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. In which Aaron finds his obsession for y/n goes deeper than he thought.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 16560 (yes. you read that correctly.)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. Dark!ATJ + Panty Kink + Mentions Of Infidelity + Age Gap + Smut + Possessive Religious Man!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. Thank you for the amazing notes and reblogs from previous chapter. It really means a lot. I want to thank you guys with chapter two so I hope y’all enjoyed this! :3

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑. Any nasty comments will be deleted and blocked! If you are a minor do not interact with this post at all.

1

“They tested God in their heart by demanding the food they craved.” –Psalm 78:18

“Honey, I'm home!” Sam yells out.

The sound of the garage door opening awakens him from his depressing dilemma.

His brows wrinkle in confusion. He moans distastefully. He forgot his wife had went out and came back with groceries. Aaron stood up— groaning, regretting a knot on his back for staying in a slumped position, fixing his attire to look presentable.

Ten years.

They’ve been married for ten years. Marriage has gotten boring for him. The fire he once had for her has slowly been dying out the moment he laid eyes on y/n. Sam was nothing compared to her. His wife is too controlling. She was docile. His wife talks as if she croaks. She sounds as sweet as honey. Aaron can go on and on for hours how Sam was nothing like Y/N. Nothing like the sort of girl he wanted—no, needed.

He is greeted with his wife frantically putting things away. She doesn't notice his presence.

Aaron clears his throat and she then turns to face him. “Oh, Hi—Aaron, would you mind helping me with groceries? I have to prepare food for Michael's football night.”

Ah.

He had forgotten that tonight was the night he’d see his best friend and you. He goes ahead to help Sam, trying to get rid of his thoughts and ignoring how his cock hardens thinking about you. Michael and him have been friends for a long time when he moved into the neighborhood and their bond has been unbreakable. Church every Sunday, occasional football nights, and helping each other out with anything they need from each other. It was safe to say they had formed a brotherhood with one another.

Y/n was introduced to Aaron after a year she had come back from college. The very first time he met her, he was in awe of her beauty. Oh, so in awe. He was in love with her innocence, how she was so soft, so shy with everyone. He leans over the counter watching his wife washing dishes and a look of disgust comes onto his face. He doesn’t know how he can think like this or how he can get rid of such thoughts. God is punishing me for not being a good husband, he thinks.

“Should i make a rotel dip tonight?”, Sam asks. he doesn't catch what she says, given how much he’s thinking about y/n. He couldn't really care less about the fucking dip. All he wanted was to be in her presence and just to hear her honey-like voice again.

“Huh? Repeat that again?”

His wife turns to face him in annoyance and repeats, “Should I make rotel dip for the game night?”

He shrugs his shoulders in agreement. He barely gives a fuck about what she does. “Sure, it’s perfect for game night. We already have the chips for it.” and with that, he gives her a smile— satisfied with his answer, she goes ahead and starts preparing.

His face falls in exhaustion, dealing with a wife like her. He can’t wait to go over to y/n's house and take his mind off of Sam.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The sound of laughter and men surrounding each other filled up the living room as their favorite team scored another point.

Aaron was grinning from ear to ear enjoying his time with his friends, however, in the back of his mind— he wanted to know where you were at. You were nowhere to be found and he felt anxious before his inner thoughts were interrupted by the very sound of your laughter, immediately threatening to make him hard.

His sweet girl.

You just arrived home with a friend. He looks unfamiliar. Aaron feels a pang of jealousy go through his heart. That young man had a decent look going on for him but Aaron knows in his heart that God blessed him with looks as well— enough for the church members to throw themselves at him—as well, yes. He knew.

The sounds around him were deafening, clenching his beer as he drank, eyeing you carefully so nobody catches him in his odd perversion. His eyes pan to his wife chatting with other people, looking at her lips and all he can think about is the croaking sounds he hopes she’d make. Crudely snickering, he excuses himself to the kitchen to get another beer.

He crouches down to open the cooler, halfway through, you walk into the kitchen. He immediately recognizes the perfume you always use. It's enough to catch his attention. He turned his head— and only his head— to see you leaning back on the wall looking at your friend with a bored look evident on your face. Aaron understands. He would rather go somewhere fun too. Somewhere forbidden. Grabbing his beer, he pops the cap open to drink, and does so quite noticeably. Your eyes fall on Aaron. You brighten up, pushing yourself from the wall and throw your arms around him for a hug.

“Mr. Johnson!”

He's taken aback by the hug. Surprised, even. His body almost jerks from the impact but he's able to relax himself. He knows he can sense his heart beating fast anxiously. He lets go (almost reluctantly), and puts a hand on your shoulders to look at you. He doesn’t want you to feel his heartbeat, thumping and getting faster as if threatening to jump out. “Y/N! Why are you guys sulking and pouting by yourself?” You jut your lips out to a pout and your friend rolls his eyes at your dramatic behavior. “it’s reallllly boring.” Aaron chuckles in response at how you dragged the word ‘really’.

“Er- are you going to introduce me to your friend or they’re better off as being mysterious?”, He teases. He loves making you laugh to make things less awkward. The mysterious guy in question looks around, sheepishly embarrassed that he is noticed by the older man.

“Oh! Mr. Johnson, this is my best friend, Fabien, and Fabien— this is my dad’s best friend, Mr. Johnson!". Both of the men shake hands. Fabien shakes Aaron's hand politely but furrows his brows, nervous that the older man returns a tighter, firm one instead.

“Nice to meet you, son. it’s not everyday I meet y/n’s friends", Aaron says, enjoying seeing the nervous look on that man’s face. That's right. He should be nervous. He’s been watching her for so long— she rarely brings friends over. This was both a foreign feeling and a motivating one. He had felt jealousy before, when knowing he couldn't have her— but motivation to have her? It was new. It was exhilarating. God would forgive him for stalking but he’d like to assure himself now that he was doing it out of good intentions.

“Y-Yeah, we were studying at the library and she invited me for free food. Can't say no to that!” He stammers, voice cracking. You roll your eyes, embarrassed.

“Well, welcome to the Y/L/N house. Make yourself at home and help yourself with the food. My wife makes good chips and dip.”

Aaron doesn't notice the mention of his wife’s name made your smile fall. He pats the young man on the back and kisses you on the forehead. Your spine tingles— shamefully. “I’ll let you kiddos go. I'm going to excuse myself to the restroom," He lies behind a smile.

Once excusing himself, he looks around to make sure nobody isn’t following behind him before heading upstairs. He checks the hallways to make sure no guests were wandering about, a bit nervous.

You see, Aaron lied.

He wasn’t really planning on using the bathroom. What he really wanted to do was go to your bedroom. He discretely turns the bathroom lights on and locks the door to make it seem it was occupied. A smart man— when desperate, it seemed. He knows what her door looks like, as how he always made sure to walk past it every time he visited. He stood in front of the door that was covered with a plethora of stickers and smiles rather fondly. Stroking the stickers, he admires Y/N's admiration for the softer, feminine things. He once again looks around before entering the room, steps heavy yet his heart pumping with shameless excitement.

Aaron is welcomed by the soft pink color theme of the room, posters upon posters on the wall of bands and pictures of her family. He allows himself to take a whiff of the sweet smell of lavender and vanilla spice that fills the air, each recognizable aroma reminding him of Y/N. He knows his cock shamelessly hardens. This is the first time he had stepped a foot in her room, but perhaps the hundredth time he's thought about it. It's much more different than when he watches her get undressed from his office. He gently strokes Y/N's pink filly sheets and her white teddy bear that he had always seen her dance with in her room. He shook his head, trying to get his plan into action. He wants her panties and he will politely borrow them for his own pleasure. Aaron is sure you won't even notice them go missing.

He pulls each drawer down to find the panties he’s been craving for and after what seems to be a while, he finds his favorite pair. The same ones he had only gotten a glance of earlier that day back in the shrouded shadows of his office. He takes a whiff, moaning to himself almost painfully. it— no, she has that lovely smell that he had always imagined. Always desired, craved. He couldn’t help himself but took a pair— or two. You wouldn’t notice. You love buying clothes. He buries y/n in his back pocket and pats on it, happy that he got his own gift. He was almost like a mesmerized child, his mind of delusions acting as his toy.

He carefully places everything back to the way it was and tidies everything to make it seem nobody else was in her room. Untouched and pure— like Y/N. He heads out of her room, making sure not to forget about the bathroom then makes his way back down. He resumes his unsuspected position back into the party, laughing with his wife and enjoying company— a devilish smile growing as something further down grows as well. Nobody in this room suspects that he has Michael's dear daughter's underwear in his pocket and oh— doesn't it feel so wrong yet so good?

If he can’t have her, he will have a part of her for himself to keep.

Aaron’s mouth curls into a familiar devilish grin. He slides his hands down to his wife’s lower back, stroking her spine, and leans closer to his wife’s ear, “Let’s go home.” his voice makes Sam visibly shudder. Her face flushes, agreeing that it is almost late and they must go home.

The ride home was silent yet loud with sexual tension. No words were spoken.

Neither of them makes the first move.

Aaron follows Sam to the kitchen and eyes her body up and down. He leans his body over the counter and sees her squeezing her thighs to hide her arousal, trying to act normal while she cleans the dishes. His nose crinkles with disgust. He needs to get this over with— he certainly isn’t attracted to her but he still has to do his husbandly duties.

He can sense her anxiety spiraling into her body. Aaron makes his way to her and wraps his arms around her waist, nuzzling against Sam's neck.

“I-I have to clean the dishes,” She stammers, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“And? We can do it here just fine," He replies bluntly. He places a soft lick to her neck, and the blonde parts her lips to let out a soft moan, tilting her head back in pleasure. It's her sensitive spot and he knows. He slides the hems of Sam's nightgown downwards, stroking her hips before pulling her panties down to her knees in a swift motion.

Sam spins around to face him and her hands travel to Aaron's buttons, attempting to unbutton them but Aaron's grabs hold on her hands to stop her.

“Don’t," He interjects, eyes locked onto hers.

"Turn."

Aaron knew it wasn’t really about her. He just wanted it quick and done. He pivots her body, facing her towards the kitchen island. There's hunger overtaking his mind. He knows he isn’t hard because of his wife. He's hard because of you. Your panties are still hidden in his back pocket. He knows this might be the only way he can be this close to you. The brunet roughly bends Sam over the kitchen island, tracing her lips and parting it, quickly feeling her getting slick onto his fingers. It was overwhelming for her, he knew, his fingers are a gift from God. She grips the edge of the island to keep her knees from buckling. Despite hating her, Aaron loves that he had that effect on women, even ones as bothersome as Sam. A simple rub or touch would make them fall into the palm of his hands and he thinks about this as he slowly opens her up with his finger and feels slick coating him more and more before opening her with a second finger.

His breathing starts to get unstable when he realizes It's time to actually fuck her. His mind shifts to the panties as motivation— and there. In front of him isn’t his wife but you. God, he imagines— knows you would look so pretty under him. He runs his hands down the back of the dress to let it fall and leans over to kiss Sam's back but instead imagining it's yours he's kissing. He unbuckles his pants along with his boxers and lines his hardened cock up, sliding in so slowly that it has him groaning at just the tightness alone.

He can't help but close his eyes and vividly imagine you under him, whimpering at his touch and how tight, how warm you would feel around him. The feeling is practically unbearable and the desperation to fuck you both nice and deep turns insatiable. He wants to be your first everything. He wants to be the first to take your innocence. To handle your purity like how God handles his. "You" were so desperate and "your" moans and cries falling from “your lips” were everything he dreamt about.

“F-Fuck Aaron! Give me more!”

He refuses to listen to his wife and his motions— slow and steady yet his imagination is unmoved. His thrusts continue to be rhythmic, his hands making his way to his back pocket to take Y/N's panties out for a sudden sniff.

The smell was intoxicating. It was everything. His thrusts were in control. He knows his wife is growing impatient and desperate with how he loves to fuck her painfully slow but she doesn’t know he want to savor the taste of his little sunshine’s panties. Beneath him, begging him to fuck her—you— harder. Aaron growls, saying that she is ruining the experience for him. Sam is unaware that this so-called 'experience' was a euphemism for this delusional vision of you under him. She tries to change positions but his hands tangle themselves into her golden locks, grabbing rough handfuls and dragging Sam back down to keep her face down on the table to avoid her seeing sniffing his little gift.

“Don’t fuckin’ move," he growls. “You feel so fucking good like this.” His praises were enough to make her overwhelmingly wet and he sighs, thanking God that she didn’t see him sniffing another woman’s panties. He changes up the pace of his thrusts, making her moan his name out loud, with Sam gripping the table to support herself because— fuck, he never fucks her like this with so much precision and passion.

He inhales the intoxicating panties yet again, already addicted and they give him the newfound power and crazed animalistic purpose to keep thrusting. He needs to see you underneath whimpering his name, wishing to hear you whimper 'Daddy'. He fucks Sam with such brutal, quickening pace and perhaps bruises her hips with the tight grip he has on her with his whitening hands. Her legs begin quivering under Aaron. He chuckles breathily, enjoying the power he has over her—over "you".

Sam is so close to her orgasm and so was Aaron. He continues to bruise her sweet spot over and over until her entire body shakes from cumming loudly onto his dick. and yet, he doesn’t stop. Aaron fucks her with an animalistic sort of pacing, thrusting into her ruthlessly, and the smell getting stronger and stronger as he rolls his eyes back—feeling himself getting near. He doesn’t want to cum inside of her— she doesn’t deserve that. He wants to reserve that cum for you. Like he said, he wants to be your first.

Oh god he’s so close, he’s so close! His thrusts begin to weaken down before he pulls out and spurts cum all over Sam's dress and the ceramic tile floor, flashes of your face running through his mind. His back hits the counter, his breathing and the sound of his heart beating loudly in his ear. The darker-haired male returns back to reality after a while and all that fills the room is their synchronized breathing and shared silence. It was good— they both knew. But Aaron was aware it wasn't Sam that made this session good.

He crumbles up your panties tightly in his hands to keep it hidden and stumbles away from his wife

who is still bend over catching her breath from the unusual— yet passionate fuck she received from her husband. Aaron’s heart pounds as he realizes the inevitable and his obsession rings loudly in his ears.

He has to fuck her. This cannot go on forever. Fucking hell— God is going to have to get used to this because he will take her.

#aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine x y/n #The Holiest Of Sins #black reader #bullet train #tangerine

[lady-dulcinea]

Dracula, Das Musical

Lyn Liechty as Mina Murray Jesper Tydén as Jonathan Harker

#Yes I know the musical commits the cardinal sin of making Mina Dracula's one true love #and that makes the second act basically unwatchable #but the little moments Mina and Jonathan do get together are just too sweet to not mention at all #If I stop watching after the first act I can almost trick myself into liking it #which unironically makes it one of the most bearable adaptations #The bar really is so low #Dracula #Dracula Daily #Dracula Daily 2024 #Dracula Das Musical #Holiest Love #Mina Murray #Jonathan Harker #Lyn Liechty #Jesper Tydén

[renatvvs]

Sometimes there are questions for which the spoken word will not suffice. For queries such as these, it is perhaps better for them to be penned in delicate cursive onto a small scrap of yellowed parchment, folded neatly into the shape of a frog, and then unceremoniously flicked at a certain traveling priest's head.

Unfolded, the burning question on everyone's mind (or at least that of a particular vagrant) simply reads: Is it a sin to fornicate inside a church?

The folded parchment lands at his feet. For a second, he almost doesn't register that it was thrown at him. But he looks down for a moment, thinking he may have heard something, and he sees a curious craft in the vague shape of some creature he's seen before—a frog?

He stoops down to pick it up, noticing that there are letters scrawled inside the crevices. Gingerly, he unfolds the paper frog and smooths out the parchment, looking over the one sentence that is written.

His face pales. The man grips the edges of the paper, rubbing his fingers as he tries to process what is scrawled before him. After a few moments, he finally opens his mouth and sighs.

"Of course it is. There are no exceptions, it's an act of blasphemy." And even if it isn't, he isn't going to let her believe that it's ok to do things like this. Not on his watch.

"Why...now why would you ask this?" Does he really want to know?

#asks; #muse: judas; #verse: default; #amortean #usfw / #on this holiest of days? is it a sin to fornicate inside a church #the first post in this verse and it's this #AMAZING. thank you sheila for your contribution #you can continue this or leave it as a oneshot i'm ok with either lmfaooo

[gxlden-angels]

I don't know how many of you watch/listen to Belief it or Not but I love his concern about a USAmerican pastor bringing a gun on stage for a message cause my old pastor openly bragged about being armed all the time

#gun mention #gun tw #and yes of course it was in the southeast #yeehaw :))) #I hated it #I understand the reasons why and it's very nuanced especially in the aftermath of multiple attacks on black churches #black churches are a staple of black communities and while I don't like christianity #I will defend the right of black churches to keep serving their communities #I hated his weird 'look at me I'm so modern and hip I'm not a pacifist like most christians' energy #It was really fuckin weird and it made me feel so uneasy #He implied most christians are passive and hate guns as if 'god guns and glory' wasn't a whole thing #idk I've had some iffy experiences with guns so I don't like them #and that was one of them #gave me bad anxiety of 'if you have a gun here (what I thought was the safest/holiest place as a kid) #then that means everywhere else is even less safe than I thought since you still need protection here #and no one helped me cause a) fear being sin and b) them holding onto the idea of Jesus personally protecting their church from harm #so they insisted that was and would always be the case #and starting to grow up in the social media scape and constantly learning about tragedy even in churches #well let's just say my OCD didn't come from nowhere #was genuinely convinced Id cause a shooting by worrying about it too much #I'm a lot better now #I'm much secure in the idea of a world of neutrality #Things happen and things don't happen and that's how chaos and nature work #I am not better or safer at a church but it doesn't mean Im never safe #And it doesn't mean Im never loved #anyways I got off topic this was meant to be a yeehaw Im from the south pew pew guns merica am I right? type post #but y'all know how I am I've gotta lot to say #thanks for reading <3 #ex christian #religious trauma

[theklaapologist]

I think we should forbid people who I don’t agree with to give their characters beautiful names because I feel very very very close to repeating a phase in my life that I’m very desperate to forget all because a terf called her side side side side character crow in german

#i seriously need everyone to remind me how superior are my morals I’m not joking #this is a cry for help #i really need to you feed my narcissism #please tell me I am the holiest heretic and the best most moral person that has graced this sinful planet

[iskander-tm]

My holiest dear

My sweetest sin

#good omens #go #gomens #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #ineffable spouses

[nyttedryst]

This is wrong... completely wrong. Damn it, you're the devil. Kento's sure you're the devil because how else would he be able to even explain this feeling? The longing he feels whenever you're there, the temptation he badly want to succumb to.

This is a sin.

You're a sin.

He's the high priest of the whole empire damn it and you... you're the empire's infamous atheist. Everyone believe you're the devil but fuck the devil's hot. He have always been grumpy to you, almost hateful spitting out words that includes how you're going to hell whenever you wait for your religious friend. He's glad your friend's religious, because of her he have been able to see you outside every sunday.

"In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit." A voice echoed in the confessional, it's your friend ready to confess to the oh so pure and holiest high priest of the empire seeking for an advice. The same high priest they so greatly talking about, relentlessly thrusting, abusing his aching massive cock in the empire's atheist's cunt. The devil's cunt and he love every fucking second of it.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, it has been two weeks since my last confession. These are my sins-"

The narrow space inside the confessional booth makes it hard to escape him...not like you wanted too. Your friend have started listing their sins, while the high priest himself is sinning. He sloppily reach down, rubbing on your clit as he's deep in your walls relishing how it tightens and beg for more.

Sweat beads drip down your forehead, your hair slightly damp with them as you hold tightly onto his back practically digging your nails into his back. You know damn well, your pussy's squelching already audible you don't need to add in that whimpers. His ragged breathing filling in the air with the occasional grunts and groans he let out.

His handsome face screams pussy drunk in every aspect. Just from how he closes his eyes or the way he seek for your lips, muttering curses and how good you feel around him.

"God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son-" He shakily sighed, starting to pray as a response to your friend on the other side. Your body shudders, struggling away as your orgasm neared instinctively reaching for his digits that's rubbing your clit trying to remove it.

He let out a 'tch' not letting you do that, his free hand taking hold of both of your wrists. You barely managed to hold back your cries of his name if you didn't bit onto his shoulder. His thrusts kept on, speeding up and growing rough as he pushed your legs higher wanting to bury his cock deeper.

"n-no- no-" you muffled trying to warn him before your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you cream, his hips stuttering burying himself deeper as he filled you up with his cum.

"Amen." He breathed out, a grin forming on his lips as he stare down and rest your still twitching body against his chest.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #I found some juicy priest art of him #i just had to #I don't know how this works and I had to search for the script of confessionals askrbejshaka

[caraphernellie]

thank you for the venom // e.w.

summary: suffocating in a small religious town, drowning in your own misery, your own thoughts in which you were led to believe are dirty, disgraceful, unholy - where else can you turn for support other than the church? where else would you want to turn to, when ellie williams, so knowledgeable of the beliefs and teachings of the church, is there to take care of you?

a/n: oh god please don’t hate on me for this 🙏 here’s preacher!ellie. don’t come at me i have religious trauma and am also a big mcr fan so obviously. i am so nervous to post this. i cannot stress enough if this is not ur thing do not read it lmfao. closing my eyes and posting this i wrote it ages ago i dont even remember what it goes like ive been too shy to post it. part 2 where they have rough sex in the church is coming eventually when i get over being shy about that one too. bye

word count: 3.7k (i know.)

warnings: preacher!ellie , fem!reader , religious imagery/references , internalised homophobia (both e and r) , christianity/catholicism , she is so blinded by internalised homophobia , dom!ellie , oral(r!receiving) , fingering(r!receiving) , tribbing , virgin!reader but not innocent , ellie’s actually nice and has good intentions she’s just clouded by religious trauma , sinning , definitely ooc but i tried to make it as 'ellie' as possible , use of pet names : sweet girl , sweetheart , angel , good girl , cutie

“you are aware of the three hail mary devotion?”

ellie looks down at you, kneeling before her by the altar. there’s something unreadable in her gaze. though she looks utterly sympathetic.

“each day, you can seek guidance from the lord by honouring the blessed virgin mary, and you will say three hail marys. you’ll begin each day with a saying.” ellie clears her throat, her gaze unwavering. not even a blink, eyes green as ivy almost sickening you. “i do this everyday myself. ‘o my mother, preserve me this day from mortal sin.’”

“thank you, ellie.”

“you understand that i can’t speak to the lord on your behalf. i am simply the preacher, i am here to provide you comfort and guidance. and i do promise you, if you continue to repent for your sins, god will always forgive. there will always be a spot for you in heaven should you continue to do the right thing. you can acknowledge that these… thoughts… are unholy.”

perhaps there was a reason, that instead of taking yourself to confession, you sought ellie out to ask for guidance, though leaving out a crucial detail. she is the object of your thoughts.

“if it consoles you,” ellie starts, “i have struggled with thoughts of this nature too.”

and like a record screeching, you pause, looking up at the woman. and what a woman she is – black turtleneck, which doesn’t at all hide toned muscles you wish you could see. black slacks, brown boots. shoulder length, auburn hair, and a freckled complexion. she is so respected amongst the members of the parish, always living her life in the holiest of ways, and never would you have thought someone as perfect as ellie williams could have thoughts of sin.

“what?” your voice shakes, and ellie tenses for a moment. 

perhaps you could have seen this coming, how there’s often tension thick as a brick wall between the two of you. ellie’s mixed signals ever so confusing.

“sometimes these thoughts get the best of us,” ellie murmurs. she approaches you, and as you look up at her through your eyelashes, she furrows her brows, hardens her gaze. “i have asked god to help me overcome these thoughts. i have had these thoughts and feelings for a long time. yet i repent. you may never get to stop repenting for this. but showing remorse and asking the lord to forgive you is all you need to protect yourself from the devil.”

ellie williams, respected preacher. she devoted her life to the church, wanting to live a life of holiness to make up for those thoughts she couldn’t ignore.

your hands clasped together like a silent, continuous prayer to preserve your own self-control, you open your mouth to speak, when ellie cuts you off.

“i’m glad god brought us together, and caused us to cross paths. you’re a special girl.”

there’s a warm rush of blood going straight to your cheeks, a waver in your voice, and a feeling of deep appreciation pooling between your thighs. “i’m glad too. it’s very comforting… to know that i’m not the only one dealing with these kinds of thoughts. thank you for helping me, and for teaching me that i am not damned. i hope we can both find peace.”

ellie nods slowly, her gaze unfaltering as you rise to your feet. for a moment, you feel that you catch a hint of a different expression – a smirk, one that disappears within seconds. as though she puts on a facade. “we are all born into sin. what matters is that we believe, and we follow the word of god. he knows what’s best for us.”

“and he can lead us back on the right path,” you say, smoothing down your dress, a modest piece, knee length and long sleeved.

ellie is deep in thought when she mumbles her next few words. “in the meantime, i can help you with your sexuality.”

once again, a heavy silence falls over you both as the words hang in the air. ellie’s about to backtrack, when you tilt your head, and her cheeks flush red as wine.

“h– how so..?” you ask, eyeing ellie as she rubs the back of her neck. her signals constantly so mixed, you wonder how you’ve gotten this far. too far to turn back now. her sudden nervous demeanour tells you everything. ellie has her issues, and she is nothing like the perfect preacher everyone respects.

“as a preacher,” ellie says, chuckling in an awkward way, “i should be taking care of people in our town, helping them to overcome their struggles and grow their relationship with god stronger. you are part of that as well.”

and so there it is, the strict and god-fearing ellie back again.

“i’d like to invite you over to my home. to pray, and we can study scripture. i can teach you how to overcome this.” her bottom lip drawn between her teeth, there’s that nervousness again. something impure is implied, her eyes burning into your face for any trace of uncertainty, and in the case that she finds it, she’ll backtrack. “if you’re not interested, just say so.”

and at the thought of what the implications are, you find yourself nodding distractedly, gaze falling towards the crucifix hanging on the wall of the church, and you grow warm with shameful excitement. “yes, i- i can do that. is there a time that suits you, ellie?”

ellie smiles firmly, yet it doesn’t meet her eyes. as if she is having the same mental dilemma as you. “i’m glad. how about tomorrow, 7?”

“of course, i,- yes. i’ll be there. you’re just a walk down the street.”

“perfect,” ellie says, and finally that smile reaches her eyes, an almost teasing twinkle in them, a loving look that doesn’t feel the same as the love she shares with others. “wear something appropriate, alright?”

“uh-huh,” you hum, shrinking under ellie’s gaze, knees buckling.

“i’ll see you soon,” ellie murmurs, voice low. and before you turn to leave, her eyes glance over your body once more. and she doesn’t hide her expression this time. she likes what she sees.

you simply nod your goodbye. as you step down from the altar and bow to the tabernacle, you can feel her stare. you feel it as you walk all the way down the aisle of the church, late afternoon sunlight hitting the stained glass windows just right and casting red shadows over you.

✧✧✧

it’s impossible to make it through the next day. that night when you had left the church, you tried taking ellie’s advice. the hail marys, the devotion. but thoughts crept in, ellie consuming your mind in the most beautiful bittersweet memory. you couldn’t help but to picture what she could do to you, how she could worship you. and the guilt of it had you in tears only after you had came.

at 7pm, you walk down the street to ellie’s house. 

and ellie opens the door, not even a greeting slipping past her lips before she speaks. “i like that dress on you.”

and she doesn’t know it, but it eased so much of your nervousness. that you did read the situation correctly. because if you had misread the entire thing, and showed up to ellie’s home in a dress you’ve grown out of, it would have been a certainly difficult situation to navigate. ellie said to dress appropriately. and to you, that meant an older dress that hugs you tightly in the right places, leaving your body looking supple and sweet for her taking.

and should ellie discover what’s underneath the dress, she’ll see just how appropriate you decided to dress for her.

“you look beautiful,” ellie murmurs quieter this time, stepping aside to let you into her home, the brown brick house seeming so inviting at this time of night, warm candlelight lit inside. as you walk in, ellie’s eyes dip down to your exposed thighs, the dress being that short. 

“thank you,” you reply, taking a look around the house. dark wood, vintage furniture, candles, crosses everywhere. as ellie leads you to her living room, there are things you take note of that you hadn’t expected. gaming consoles, a dvd stand full of horror films. she doesn’t comment even when she sees your stare, and instead she sets you down on her couch.

“should we start?” ellie asks, a hint of a smile on her lips. “how about we start with a prayer?”

“alright,” you say with a nod, clasping your clammy hands together. ellie grins a little, and does the same, then begins to lead you both in prayer.

“lord, we know that we are sinners. please forgive us for experiencing unholy thoughts about other women, and please guide us to become more like you. please help us to watch our words and actions, and guard us against future mistakes and errors. thank you for sending your son, jesus, to die for our sins — and thank you for your forgiveness. In the name of your son jesus, we pray, amen.”

it’s like with every reminder of your faith, glancing around the room, looking at the red rosary hanging around ellie’s neck, or the bible laying on the coffee table, an insurmountable guilt builds inside you.

ellie eyes a crucifix hanging on the wall, then averts her gaze from it – she simply can’t keep her eyes from wandering to you.

“shall we study now?” ellie asks, voice husky as she reaches for the bible. “i can t–”

“ellie,” you say, eyes pleading with her. your hand meets hers, and you stop her from picking up her bible. “we both know you didn’t invite me here to study scripture.”

ellie freezes, flitting her gaze between your hands, the bible, and your eyes. she’s been caught out. perhaps nervous to make the first move, ellie had switched up again, afraid to do anything that wasn’t innocent, afraid to corrupt you. but the confirmation that you want what she wants is enough.

“no… no, you’re right. you’re not here to talk about scripture with me,” ellie mumbles, a nod accompanying it. 

“then…” you begin, fidgeting with the hem of your little dress, tilting your head at ellie with a warm face and trembling legs, white knee high stockings clinging to your calves. “we should… then we should do what you invited me here for.”

a beat.

“are you sure?” ellie asks.

“ellie, i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this,” you say, “haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. so please.”

ellie takes one look at your pleading eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth, and she knows that she’s done for.

“come,” ellie whispers, standing and taking your hand. there’s a faint look in her eyes, and everything feels light and slow as she walks you upstairs, into the bedroom.

ellie’s bedroom is similar to the rest of her house, vintage furniture and low lighting. her queen sized bed is pushed into the corner of the wall. on the nightstand lays another bible, on the wall a cross and portraits she’s drawn or painted herself. there’s a bookshelf filled with mostly religious literature and scientific books about things like astronomy and space. an acoustic guitar sits by the nightstand.

“well,” ellie murmurs, lighting a candle or two on the nightstand, flicking off the main light in the room. she stands across from you, illuminated in a warm candlelit glow. “let’s not waste any more time.”

before ellie does anything else, her hand finds the rosary around her neck. her fingers find the crucifix and she lifts it to her lips, pressing a kiss against it like a silent prayer, one last apology to the god she’s betraying. your heart skips a beat, and within no time ellie’s got a hand on the back of your head, pulling you in.

teeth clashing, hands roaming your body, ellie kisses you like it was the only thing she was made to do in life. she presses her body close to you as her tongue pushes past your soft lips. you’re not quite sure where to put your hands at first, but they settle, cupping ellie’s cheeks to bring her closer. your soft moan is muffled by ellie’s lips, her tongue invading every corner of your mouth, nothing unexplored.

ellie’s hands slide down your body, one gripping your ass over the dress and the other cupping your boob.

pulling away only to catch her breath, ellie pushes you towards the bed, laying you down on your back and climbing on top to continue kissing. she nips your bottom lip with her teeth, every act so desperate, so full of a yearning finally being fulfilled.

she stops kissing you again, this time with her hands reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. “let’s take this off, sweet girl.”

ellie’s voice is breathless already, and she pants softly as she struggles with the zipper for a moment, her brain moving faster than her hands. she finally manages it, and lifts the dress off you.

you’re quiet, as is ellie. you had anticipated there’d be a reaction to this, the matching set you chose. white and lacy, a bra and panties that match the stockings ellie admired earlier. but nothing could have truly prepared you for ellie’s reaction.

“you are divine,” ellie murmurs, her hand roaming down to your hips. she licks her lips, unable to keep her eyes off of how the bra accentuates your breasts, or how the panties hug your waist. her body language, all too clear of how she truly feels about you, does nothing but cause you to throb inside your panties. “do you trust me?”

the question throws you off. furrowing your brows, but offering a small smile, you reply. “of course i trust you, ellie.”

the soft tone of your voice entices ellie, especially as you take her hand and guide it to your chest, letting her squeeze you through the cup of your bra.

“what a beautiful sin,” ellie whispers, leaning down and attaching her lips to your neck. she’s careful not to leave marks that would be visible, but she squeezes your breast as she kisses and licks a trail down your neck, all the way to your chest.

ellie revels in your soft mewls, the way your thread your fingers into the hair at the back of her head, and hold her against you. her hand reaches behind you, grabbing at the clasp of your bra. and ellie bites down, sucking a bruise into the soft flesh of your breast, where she knows nobody could see it. you arch your back partly in pleasure, but mostly to provide her access to the back of your bra, and ellie pulls it off in no time. her eyes widen as your tits spill out, and she swallows thickly as she watches your nipples grow firm with arousal and the exposure to the air.

ellie’s hand cups your bare tit and squeezes as she brings her face up towards you once more, needing that touch of her lips on yours. her long fingers tweak your nipple, rolling the bud around as she kisses you with a growing passion, groaning into the kiss just as you whine quietly.

ellie chuckles as your hands press into her back, pulling her closer, hugging her and hiding your face away in shame. she kisses the corner of your lips, pausing to soothe you. “shh, let me take care of you. let me worship you, sweet girl.”

you ease your grip on ellie when she says that, and she smiles at you before leaning down. you shiver, feeling the cold metal crucifix of her rosary resting down against your stomach, earning a chuckle from ellie as she wraps her lips around your nipple. she sucks for a moment, then rolls her tongue over it.

ellie’s hand lays flat over your stomach, pinning you down to stop your restless squirming. she moves her leg between yours, her knee pressing a generous amount of friction against your panties.

“h… ellie,” you whisper, “have you done this before?”

ellie looks up at you, and with a grin, she nods. “i have. a long time ago.”

“oh my goodn–” you cut yourself off with a lengthy whine, ellie beginning to suck hickeys all over your chest, from one breast to the other. she gives your other nipple the same treatment, only this time her teeth graze it lightly, and your hand on the back of her head tightens the grip on her hair. “ellie…”

“shh,” ellie hushes you, beginning to kiss down your stomach. “you’re okay.”

your incessant squirming and writhing turns ellie’s grin wider, when she cups her hand over your panties and feels the soaking mess.

“that’s beautiful,” she whispers, her fingers tugging at the waistband now, “this all f’me?”

you nod eagerly, looking down at ellie from where you lay propped up against the plush pillows. any holy thought has left your mind, and it appears to be the same for ellie, who lays between your legs with a cheshire cat smile, stripping the panties down your legs.

“so pretty,” ellie hums, grasping at your thighs and pulling them apart. “tell me, you want me to touch you here?”

a nod simply won’t be good enough this time, and you know that, clearing your throat to speak up hoarsely. “yes, yes please, el… can y– mmff-”

ellie’s fingers rub over your cunt, two fingers spreading the folds, the touch burning hot and electrifying. ellie laughs, not meanly, but sympathetically. “barely touched you yet, cutie. so wet…”

your lips turn down into a pout that makes ellie smirk, and she leans close, leaving a kiss on your throbbing clit.

“c’mon, don’t pout at me,” she whispers, another kiss following the words. “angel…”

you shudder, and then a loud moan escapes your throat as ellie’s tongue flicks out, beginning to lap at you. your body’s responsiveness leaves ellie with so much confidence. 

“ellie, ellie,” you mewl, reaching a hand towards her. “ellie, it’s so– mmm…”

ellie reaches her free hand towards you, letting you grab it and intertwine your fingers. she gives a gentle squeeze as she licks a stripe down from your clit to your entrance, then back up again.

ellie can’t get enough of you, of your saccharine taste, staring up at you with blown out pupils as she sucks and laps at you. one of her bony fingers dips into your entrance, and ellie herself groans at the feeling of you clenching around it, but the sound you make is so rewarding that she pushes her ring finger in as soon as she knows you can take another finger. her digits stroke in and out of your sopping cunt, leaving you a whimpering and whining mess.

“c’mon angel,” ellie murmurs against your pussy, “i got you, i got you. ‘s this good?”

you nod, squeezing ellie’s hand in a vice grip, hips bucking against her face eagerly. “ellieeeeuuhh, oh, oh my g–”

“don’t,” ellie warns, “don’t take the lord’s name in vain, and don’t bring him into this.”

“i– s-sorry,” you gasp out, tipping your head back, “oh, oh, ellie, i’m gettin’ close.”

“good girl,” ellie murmurs, keeping the fast rhythm of both her fingers and tongue. “gonna be good and cum f’me?”

“yea, yea,” you say in a breathy voice, more moans leaving your lips, “ohhh, mmfuck, f-fuck, ellie.”

ellie’s ruining you, reduced you to nothing but babbles and moans. you buck your hips up more, rutting fast against her face, and that’s when you hit your peak. with a shriek of ellie’s name, you cream on her fingers, covering them with your slick, allowing them to stroke in and out even quicker.

ellie rides out your orgasm, slowly pulling away when you’re finished. she peppers kisses along your shaking thighs, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

“good, sweet girl?” ellie asks, kissing the top of your head. you nod – but ellie isn’t finished with you, apparent as she begins unbuckling her belt.

“mmm,” you hum, “‘s perfect.”

“alright, angel, c’mere,” ellie says, stripping down to nothing. she sits by the headboard, pulling you onto her lap, hooking a leg over you. “you’re doin’ so good, you know? think you were made to please. good at taking what you’re given.”

“only because i want it,” you say in response, which has ellie chuckling. she grips your waist, grunting when her cunt makes contact with yours. 

“good,” ellie says sternly, “because– shit.”

ellie loves how you keel over and press your nose against her neck because of the way your sensitive pussy rubs against her own. she tightens her grip on your waist, fingernails leaving little crescent moon marks in the plush skin as she begins moving you, groaning and moaning at the way your clit bumps against hers. she moves her own hips too, gasping your name.

you breathe soft whines into ellie’s neck, arms wrapped around her, hugging tight. it’s nothing but desperate now, your second orgasm approaching right in time with ellie’s.

“hnng, f-fuck, yeah, you gonna cum again?” ellie asks, squeezing your ass as you move against her. “good girl, cum, c– cum with me, cum with me s– fuck.”

ellie tenses up, hips moving fast to rub your soaking cunts together as you both cum. kissing your temple, ellie gently moves you off of her, running a hand through her damp and sweaty hair. “stay here angel, ‘m gonna clean you up, and we’ll cuddle then, okay?”

you don’t have much of a say in the matter regardless, shaking in the afterglow of ellie’s touch. she comes back moments later, looking a bit cleaner herself, carrying a wet washcloth. she begins to wipe you down, being extra careful around all of your more sensitive areas. she leaves kisses in the wake of her touch.

“you are beautiful,” ellie says in a firm tone. “the most perfect angel i’ve ever seen.”

you can only give ellie a half smile in response, and she drops the washcloth, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. 

“don’t stress, you know why? because god always forgives as long as you’re willing to repent.”

ellie climbs into bed, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. she rests her chin on top of your head, a protective hold on you.

“why don’t we say another prayer before we go to sleep?” the preacher asks, tone almost uncertain. is she convincing you, or herself? “he’ll forgive us.”

tags: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @machetegirl109 @eurewili @craz1er4you @divinediors @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

i'm still trying to sort out my tag list!! it wouldn't let me tag some people. if you wanted to be tagged but weren't pls let me know so i can fix that <3

credits: middle pic in the banner is @switchbladekillerqueen <33 this pic inspired me to write this fic!!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader #preacher!ellie

[seattlesellie]

i wanna have a sleepover with dina <3 we watch movies, paint each others nails, make out & scissor 💘💘

ugh a silly little sleepover w dina is such a dream <3 what if what if we mix ellie in too. what if u and dina r just doing each other's makeup while ellie watches in awe... she'd be sooo cute just looking at u sitting on dina's lap putting some strawberry lip gloss on her lips. dina would be like "oh my god its so yummy" as she smacks her lips, sticky, glossy strings forming and glistening on them <3. u, the little devil that u are, ask her if u can have a taste. ellie's eyes are blowing out of her head because what the hell did u just say???? she thinks she's hallucinating, so she doesn't say anything. this must be a dream. dina's grinning, and she's so normal about it (maybe bc u make out every time u hang out so this isn't exactly... new) so she kisses your lips gently, all sticky and sickly sweet. u part your lips to let her slide her tongue in... and it really does taste good! <3 meanwhile, ellie's like. losing it. she's all red and flustered because what the hell are her two best friends doing in front of her. she literally can't believe her eyes. this shit is like... something she sees in porn or something. you peak at her from the corner of your eye, and she's staring at the floor because she's too shy to look. she think's she's interrupting something and all she wants to do is like, hide under the couch. she clears her throat as dina's hands caress and squeeze your waist gently. you finally break the kiss, and the two of you look at her like two angels… like we didnt do anything ellie! just two girls kissing… are u that scared? meanwhile she’s all wide eyed and nervous <3 "el... you wanna taste too?" dina teases.... and ellies internally like yesyesyesyes! but she's just. sitting there still and stiff as a rock, unresponsive. dina moves closer and surprises ellie w a delicate peck on her left cheek. she looks at her with a soft little smile and brushes a hair string away from her face. “i wanna taste" ellie says quietly... like she's admitting something forbidden, like she's confessing her sins. dina initiates the kiss, sliding her sweet tongue inside her mouth, and ellie's already panting! "tastes good" she murmurs, ears heating up, her green eyes gleaming like two sparkly little orbs under the warm toned lighting. somehow, it ends up with her eating the two of you out, taking turns and worshipping your pussies like they’re the world's holiest temples. when you and dina scissor each other, grinding your wet cunts together, whimpers and needy moans escaping both of your mouths like an obscene little symphony, ellie again... just watches, exactly like she did when she watched you paint dina's face. but this time... her hand is in her boxer briefs, her fingers are pumping in and out and she's dripping all over the couch — she doesn't want to hide underneath it anymore <33

#anon 🎀 #dina makes me wanna kiss a pretty fem right on the lips <33 #dina x reader #dina nolastname #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie x dina #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2

[dykells]

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐀.𝐀

𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ she hopes im cursed forever to sleep on a twin sized mattress never graduating up in size to add another 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,1k ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: religion, homophobia n’ nsfw content

abby feels owen’s hand on her waist like a brick to her chest weighting her body down, it wouldn’t take much for the drowning to begin but your face across the room was both oxygen and the final anchor of her demise. she weighed her options as their personifications stood before her, father smiling brightly at the happy couple unaware his own daughter forced her chirpiness while she yearned in the deepest aching to be swept off her feet by the girl just a few away– who now refused to face her much understandably. you cursed her for inviting you to their preppy engagement party, cursed her for multiple reasons more, yet your heels stuck to the ground like they clung for dear life anticipating a plot twist shaped by regret.

“excuse me” she finally croaked out mid conversation, the place where her fiancé’s hand once held onto now burning her skin like a rotting poison. she wished to bathe herself clean in the rain like a baptism, wished owen didn’t felt like sin tainting her body from being with you, her holiest of experiences, wished she had not known heaven between your legs so she may live on her life guiltless and not as someone who has felt blasphemously like a god herself. your fingers brush past eachother as she walks up behind you and fireworks bloom from your fingertips like lily flowers at spring. lillies, her favorite, your perfume.

you follow her to the bathroom, breath unsteady, and regardless of how long the affair has been happening no familiarity prepares you for the crash of her lips against yours as you twist the doorknob. sometimes you think these moments might make you understand her, to have abby anderson’s tongue exploring your mouth, hands by your neck to keep you still, perpetual apple cinnamon smell, was nothing short of a religious experience. perhaps that is what the church brought out in her, this same inextinguishable fire at the pit of your stomach with understanding of icarus and his hope for the sun. if all sins felt this sweet it did not seem so big of a sacrifice to die for them– you’d die for her if asked.

“abs, stop” you whisper once her lips are on your neck, long wet kisses all across the exposed skin warming up your body from the winter cold better than any cloth could have, she’s hungry, biting you down and her fruity scent doesn’t let the irony of forbidden fruit to die on you even as she hums in fake confusion allowing herself more time in her feast begging it to cloud your judgement as it almost does “abigail, we have to stop”

“don’t do this to me” she begs, voice cracking “please don’t leave me, you’ll take all the sunshine with you and it’s cold, it’s a cold winter i need your arms, your limbs, your body, my sunny girl-“

“you’re getting married, abs” you sigh with the exclamation, it seems nearly as though you’ve just reminded her of it like someone who forgot to turn off the oven before they had left the house, someone destined for burnt flames, your reality scares her into kneeling submission and you’re laughing because it looks like a proposal and it’s absurd, her hands gripping yours, her gaze doe-eyed and unconditional. you are missing a ring but you see hers, diamond, and the ache doesn’t easen.

“you are everything that i want…”

“then leave him, abby. don’t sit on the dirty bathroom floor of a venue for your engagement party and promise me a love you are too scared to give me, i can’t keep excusing your cowardice for the sake of sanity. take off that ring and walk out of here with me, we’ll figure it out, we’ll be happy together, your winter won’t be cold”

she pretends to take in your words, analyse them as if her nights haven’t been filled with scenarions and possibilities all of which there is pain unbearable. you’re searching her eyes with a hope unbeknownst to men and suddenly you feel the line between dream and desperation blurring itself into oblivion. abby lets go of your touch and slides the ring from her finger out onto it’s demise on the tiled floor. you think you won. you think god exists when she locks the door behind you and presses you against the wall, believe he had heard your prayers once her fingers dip between your thighs. when she’s thrusting inside you, you cry out for god instead of her name, moan louder at the sight of her wedding band far away on the ground, feel your walls clenching around her digits and her warm breath against your neck, she’s mumbling so many i love yous you barely notice how multiple sound like im sorrys.

with your hands curling around her loose hair she gets sloppy, deprived, wants you to tug on her and beg for her mouth without needing the plead to taste you and you do so eager it burns her scalp. she’s back on her knees and she thinks for a moment not admited this might be her holy repent. tugging on your jeans till their ultimate glide towards the floor, shes sucking on the wet patch of your underwear as a tease, letting her senses flood of lillies and pussy. she finally pushes it aside and dives in, godhood in the shape of your swollen clit grazing her teeth, you tilt your waist to give her further access and there are stars and angels behind your fluttered eyelids.

she calls your her sunny girl as you rain down her face in white honey, her muscles spread your legs further apart and suck it in till it has destroyed her makeup, part of her wishes to leave this bathroom and still smell of you, part of her is scared owen might kiss your heavens from her tongue and catch it all. she’s putting her ring back on at your climax, and you’re confused and heavy breathing. a sob clings to your throat.

abby tells you all she’s ever known is the cold. tells you girls like her are unworthy of the sun. tells you owen is waiting and maybe you should leave. she doesn’t tell you she thinks god isn’t real once you’ve turned your back because he would never have created something to purely magnetic to have it ripped from her hands, she does not tell you the only thing worth worshipping is the gap between your teeth, the crook of your neck and the dimple in your cheek, doesn’t tell you she thinks hell is this. but she almost does. she almost does. on your way out, you just sob and hope she’s cursed. hope god is angry. think god is her.

© dykells twentytwentythree

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson angst #abby anderson smut #lesbian #the last of us fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x you #abigail anderson #dykells works #wlw fiction #abby x fem!reader

[oldshrewsburyian]

I've thought of another reason ASOIAF needs Fantasy Canon Law™ and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

The new religion of the Seven has at least some involvement with marriage, so the concept of sacraments is not a million miles away (also, ordination and sacred kingship are at least sort of Things.) But what I currently want to know is: does this religion have the Sacrament of Confession?

The reason I want to know is (predictably) that I want to know more about what precisely is going on when Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer, oath-breaker, etc. etc., chooses to acknowledge and to some extent bewail his manifold sins and wickedness, which he from time to time most grievously has committed by thought, word, and deed. A semi-delirious, anguished unburdening to the woman whom he has identified as his protector (not over it) and who is, strangely, the closest thing he has to a comrade--that's one thing. And it's still an act of startling and disarming intimacy.

But. If the religion of the Seven has Fantasy Canon Law™/the Sacrament of Confession, then this man without morals and without prayer, with only a strange and ragged remnant of honor and shame, is turning to Brienne of Tarth (who is, in this moment, literally stripped of any insignia that might mark her status or their relationship to each other) and implicitly saying that her honor is the holiest thing he recognizes. Perhaps, indeed, the only thing he recognizes as holy.

Everything is fine.

#fantasy canon law™ #give me fantasy canon law george!!! #a medievalist does got #jaime x brienne #apparently #asoiaf

[yaekiss]

on this sinful sunday, i’m having very holy thoughts of either branding or carving my name onto childe’s skin— maybe that tummy he’s so insistent on not covering up, maybe a nice little tramp stamp. i know he’s making sure it scars, picking at the scabs and whining for you to redo them if they dare to fade away— he belongs to you!

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Top! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Yan! Tartaglia, reader's dick can also be read as strap, gore + eroguro, knifeplay + blood, masochist Tartaglia, spanking (just once, on Tartaglia), terrible wound care by Tartaglia please don't follow his actions, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: Happy Whore Wednesday pulpie! Or uhhh, it was Wednesday when I started writing this. Got a lil carried away hehe :3 Happy Thotaglia Thursday! Slut on! (With you, Childe feels like every day is Thotaglia Thursday)

Anyways. Childe thinks of you as pure divinity, the holiest of beings, and he’s eager to worship all of you and bear everything that you’re willing to bless him with. Who is he to say no to the pain you inflict on him too?

This time, he’s cockwarming you, the heat and desire he feels is dizzying. You’re inside him and just the sensation of you filling him up perfectly has left him giddy with lust. His face is smushed into the mattress with his azure eyes already rolled into their sockets. Prior to this, he pressed a lavishly decorated dagger into your palm with a fervent sort of urgency, begging for you to mark him up however you like. You try to think back on what could’ve spurred this on. Was it that merchant trying to chat you up at the market the other day? Or perhaps it’s just a sick kind of longing that hangs around the ginger no matter how much time you spend together? One thing remains clear, at its core, Childe wants to be utterly and irrefutably yours.

Taking up the dagger, you admire the inlaid gemstones glinting in the lighting of the room, their colours matching the exact shade of your eyes and you’re sure that this must have cost an arm and a leg. Tracing the cold metal down the ridge of his spine, you feel him shudder, your ears picking up a soft keening whine. You start off slow, the tip of the blade breaking past skin and revealing glorious liquid crimson. Childe sucks in a breath at the delirious buzz of pain and pleasure that he’s subjected to at your hands. 

“Nghh… please I wanttt-! to be yours!” Greedy as always.

You take your time carving out your name into his flesh, revelling in just how many moans and whines you can wring out from the harbinger. Despite how muddled his senses are, he’s acutely aware of each and every searing twist and pull of the knife. Some of the warm blood trickles and drips down to where the two of you are connected and the sensation has him losing the ability to speak, brain reeling at how disgustingly intimate this whole act is. However, over time, Childe gets squirmy and twitchy with how pent-up he’s getting, the arousal in him pooling and heightening. That simply won’t do. Good boys need to stay in line while their lover is being so so so nice to them after all. With a pointed “tsk”, you land a hard smack on his ass as a warning. He yelps loudly at the impact but he gets the message, obediently staying still as you finish carving the tramp stamp. 

When you’re finally done, you pull out of him, the lack of your cock filling him up has Childe whining again but it snaps him out of his reverie. You reach over to grab a mirror and angle it so that he can see (read: marvel at) your handiwork. His eyes glint as he catches sight of the fresh cuts, the wound spelling out your name and the fact that you’ve claimed him as your devoted believer. However, he doesn’t let you go further than cleaning and disinfecting the wound site. (Secretly, he hopes that it leaves a permanent scar, an eternal pure white etched into his skin to show that he belongs to you without question.)

Throughout the whole healing process, he picks away at the scabs that try to cover the wound, opening it back up again so that your name is written in a carnal raw red. Whenever he stares at it in the bathroom mirror for too long and thinks that a certain part of it is fading away too fast without leaving a mark, he rushes to you, whining and begging for you to redo it with a frenzied tone in his voice. 

He wishes you’ll dig even deeper, maybe even push your fingers into his flesh until he’s screaming and clenching down on your cock, use his blood as lube as you fuck up into him relentlessly. The thoughts keep coming and you can’t go a full week without Childe pleading for you to lay your claim on him.

Maybe next time he’ll convince you to leave your mark on his abdomen so that everyone can see who he belongs to.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi rambles #yandere #gore #eroguro #yandere genshin #genshin smut #sub genshin #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #tartaglia smut #sub tartaglia #childe x reader #yandere childe #childe smut #sub childe #dom reader #📜.qi writings

[ghostkennedy]

Original Sin

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 3402

Shoutout to @myrarenee for sending the request that inspired this and being down for my idea <3 This one’s for you.

Content warnings: religious iconography, smut, sexual content, submissive reader, married leon, affair between reader and leon, cheating leon, degradation, praise, faint misogyny if you squint, strip tease, vague masturbation, handcuffs, blindfold, gagging reader, using his wife’s vibrator, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, reader blacks out for a minute. also wanted to note this references addiction, smoking/drug use in terms of comparison to someone’s feelings. none of those things actually take place, but it is described a bit!

anywaysssssss, enjoy this one. leon and reader have no shame 

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!

Obsession. Fixation. Infatuation. Compulsion. The way you’d drop to your knees before him without him ever asking wasn’t something you could’ve anticipated. You weren’t ashamed to call it what it was: you had a fetish for this man. The moment you laid eyes on him, something within you changed–something clicked. And you knew that no one else would ever compare to him. Others could give it their best shot and they’d never reach anything beyond a bleak dullness next to him. What’s one measly, useless star compared to the fucking sun? Nothing, that star would always mean nothing.

And Leon S. Kennedy was your sun. From the day you two met, your universe began to orbit around him. Placing yourself in his life, forcing yourself into his path. It had been enough for a while, but you wanted–no needed more of him. You craved him like a smoker craves a hit, needing to feel the burn throughout your chest and lungs. If you could shoot him directly into your bloodstream, you’d wear your collapsed, abused veins with a smile. Your salvation was somewhere within his flesh and blood and you were more than eager to tear him apart in search of it. You would dig it out from somewhere between his thighs and that is where you’d finally be saved. 

You’d dropped your sneaky links and casual flings. If you had to take a guess, you maybe had another 40-60 years of your short existence. And from this point on, all of it would be dedicated to the only man who could ever make a life worth living. You’d found your faith, so why waste a single minute on such mediocre things when you could be falling to your knees and praising the holiest of bodies. His flesh was forged from nicotine, his blood flowing with amphetamines. Maybe the addictive personality was deep in your genetics, but addiction never looked so beautiful. You were made to worship him; you’d never been so sure of your life’s purpose.

Obsession. Fixation. Infatuation. Compulsion. The way he’d abandon everything he’s ever known and keep you locked away for him only wasn’t something he thought he was capable of feeling. How your eyes darkened when they connected with his for the first time. It’s as if he had lived his entire life with it merely passing him by, and now he could feel the blood pumping through his veins and the breaths he took expanding his lungs. He was lost in the pitch black in the dead of the night and you were the moon finally poking through the trees.

And you were his moon. You were the light shining down on his skin, pulling him from the darkness that engulfed him for centuries. The world went from a blurry fog, to pristine and crisp. He could make out every little detail of textures in the walls, to the patterns in the carpet. He had ascended from a mere man to an ethereal being, just because of one look from you. He felt as though he was being mind controlled by you and you were fixing his broken pieces into something somehow worthy of you. He was in a daze, transfixed by his new affliction. 

That night when he went home with his wife, he plowed into her while imagining you beneath him. He thought of his cock spreading you open and ascending to the Heavens above through the waves between your thighs. Every moan or noise that fell from her lips morphed in the air between them into how he hoped you would sound beneath him. Your pussy that was made just for him would grip him so tight and milk him dry of any sins or imperfections. His soul would be cleansed within you. The same soul that fell from his body every time he came while thinking of you, and you alone. 

You were the reason people were tempted away from their faith, being pulled away and into the unholy sin of worshiping a false idol. And if one day he has to be brought forth in front of the jury as they cast judgment and assign his punishment, he won’t have learned a damn thing. He could be taught lesson after lesson, delivered punishment after punishment, and his soul would still follow you to his own demise. He’ll always chase after your torment and torture that you serve for him and him only.

That’s what brought you two to these less than holy places. Dingy pay-by-the-hour motels, gross bathrooms, poorly lit closets, both of your cars–just about anywhere you could hide away from watchful eyes and cure the craving for one another. It didn’t matter how rough the terrain may be beneath you two, you’d always fall to your knees for each other. You would always be the one habit he couldn’t kick no matter how much he tried. Well, he assumed that would be the case if he had ever tried to kick the habit, or even considered it.

It was risky for him to sneak you through the backdoor of his marriage home while his wife was visiting family. But after much discussion, you both had come to the conclusion that you couldn’t find it within yourselves to care. If that made you terrible people, then you were completely okay with that. It just added to the compatibility you suppose. He was made terrible and unholy, yet sculpted in your perfect image. 

“You’re one to talk about my obsession with you. You’re the one getting on your knees for a married man,” Leon spoke as he eyed your body up and down. You wore his favorite dress because you loved how it always riled him up. He loved when you wore it for him because he knew it was all for him, such an obedient thing you were.

“And what would your wife think, huh? How every time she turns her back, you don’t hesitate to shove your cock inside of another woman?” you crossed your arms over your chest, taunting him. He rolled his eyes and shifted his eyes back towards the TV. 

“One woman wasn’t enough to please you. You need your cock buried deep inside of me, often several times a day. You’re obviously out of control. I sleep with one man and I’m the issue?” you continue taunting him. You just had to know how far you could push him before he gave in and defiled you where you sat.

“I’m just a man, sweetheart. Dangle a bone in front of a dog–,” you cut him off with a loud laugh. He turned back to you and raised his eyebrow at you, challenging you almost.

You stood up from the bed, the same one he shares with his wife, and slipped the straps of your dress off of your shoulders. He stared at you with intense eyes, as if he was trying to eat you alive with just a look. You weren’t wearing a bra, so when you pulled the dress down until the top was bunched around your waist, your breasts were on full display for him. 

You continued pulling it down, shimmying it down past your hips, letting it fall at your feet. You turned around and slowly slid your panties down your ass, letting them glide down your thighs as you shook your ass to aid in taking them off. You peaked over your shoulder and saw Leon staring directly at your ass, causing you to smirk.

Once you were free from any clothing, you turned back around and threw yourself back onto the bed. Legs spread unashamedly. He inched closer to you and as he went to reach out to you, your hand darted out and stopped his wrist.

“Prove this self control you’ve been boasting about then. If you touch me in absolutely any way, you lose,” you told him as you pushed his hand back to his side. 

He scoffed out at you, “Are you serious?” He stared at you as you confidently nodded back at him. “Well, in that case,” he spoke as he stood up, slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, “If you touch me, then you lose.” You watched hungrily as he undid every last button and let the shirt fall behind him. He slowly worked his pants and boxers off and you ate it up with your eyes. His hard cock sprung out, already begging for you.

He sat back on the bed, relaxing back into the pillows as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But it was all an act he was putting on for you. He knew you were stubborn, it was just in your nature, so maybe if he could irritate you enough, intrigue you enough with his disinterest, he surely could get you to give in first. So he went back to mindlessly watching TV, although he couldn’t pay any attention to the show that was playing. All he could think of was the sight just to the right of him and trying to discreetly stare at you from the corner of his eye. 

This went on for a few minutes, before you decided you needed to up the ante. You started to run your hands up and down your body, a small whimper leaving your lips. Leon’s head snapped as he watched you tease your nipples between your fingertips.

“What have I told you about touching yourself?” he growled at you.

“What are you going to do about it, then? Come punish me? Touch me and lose? I think you know just as well as I do that you hate losing,” you tested him. Your hands abandoning your breasts and gently caressing your stomach as they slowly moved lower and lower. He followed every single one of your movements, as if he was in a trance. 

You caressed your thighs, spreading them all the way open as Leon eyed your wetness. After a few seconds you snapped them close, hiding the sight Leon was desperate for the most. He bit his lip as his brows furrowed in irritation. 

You rubbed your thighs together, giving yourself the vaguest bit of friction. You were so needy that even the faintest ping of pleasure had you throwing your head back and whining. Plus, it’s not as if you were holding yourself back at all. You allowed yourself to feel every little bit of sensation from your little touches here and there. 

And you just carried on exactly like that. It was hard to hold any sort of self control when you were working yourself up so much. But reminding yourself of who you were also working up, yet refusing to look at, was all the encouragement you needed. 

You barely opened your eyes and peeked over at Leon. You could see the sweat building up on his chest and forehead. His hands were clinging to the sheets beside him, his knuckles going white from the intense grasp he held on them. You saw him gulp deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing and tempting you deep down into your core.

You closed your eyes tightly again as you spread your thighs for him once more, gently caressing your soaked lips with your fingertips. Your teeth were biting into your bottom lip so hard that you felt like you might draw blood, but it was the only thing grounding your mind down to Earth currently. Your middle finger swiped over your clit just right and you arched your back and whined even louder than you had before. 

Just as your eyes were about to flutter into the back of your head, a harsh grasp pulled your hands from your body, holding them above your head as you were pinned down to the mattress with his body hovering over yours.

“You think I give a fuck about losing?” he laughed as he brought his lips to your ear, “As if I won’t punish you either way? Make you pay for being such a fucking tease.” His voice was full of venom. His patience was more than just wore thin. It was crumpled up and had run away, somewhere far fucking away from here. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you lowered your voice until it was barely above a whisper, “loser.” He looked at you with a look of disbelief, before he laughed loudly directly in your face.

“I’m going to have so much fun making you eat your fucking words,” he sneered as he looked directly into your eyes. The darkness of his pupils nearly consuming his eyes, his irises nothing more than a hint of his usual blue. 

He slid open the drawer of the nightstand directly to your right, pulling a pair of handcuffs out. You raised your eyebrow at him as he used one hand to click them open and shut teasingly. He roughly pulled your hands up to the headboard and secured you to the iron bars with the handcuffs. 

He begins rummaging inside the drawer again as you nervously fiddle beneath him. Before you can process it, he’s securing a blindfold over your eyes, encompassing you in near total darkness. You were breathing heavily as he dragged some sort of piece of fabric over your mouth.

“Is this okay?” he said as he shoved the fabric in your mouth, successfully gagging you. You nod in response and he caresses your cheek gently before lightly slapping it. “Now be a good whore for me,” he whispered before you heard him press a button and some sort of device kicking on.

It doesn’t take you more than a few seconds to recognize the sound of a vibrator before he’s running the device down the valley of your breasts, past your belly button, and swirling the device around on your inner thighs. You were desperately arching your back and thrashing around beneath him, the cuffs clinging loudly against the metal bars of his headboard.

He laughs directly next to your ear, startling you. You didn’t realize how close he’d brought his mouth to your ear while he was teasing you. 

“Let’s see how many times I can make you come with my wife’s toy. You’re such a dirty fucking girl, letting someone’s husband fuck you with her toy,” he speaks into your ear deeply. You whine desperately and he continues, “And you’re going to fucking love it. Her husband’s cock isn’t enough for you, is it? You have to steal all forms of her pleasure, hmm? You can’t help but plague her life with your slutty pussy.”

As soon as the last word leaves his mouth, the vibrator is directly pressed to your clit, causing you to moan out loudly as the waves of pleasure crash through your pussy. And he’s so fucking right, every single word he said. You shouldn’t want this as desperately as you do. It’s depraved, her husband using her toy to get you off in her bed. But as your climax fast approaches, you can’t help but arch your back and fully take in the pleasure. 

Your first orgasm crashes through you, your body trembling against the vibrator as you desperately try to get in enough air through your nose. He pulls the toy away from your pussy for a few seconds before he presses it against you again. You’re basically screaming into your gag as your eyes roll back at the sensation returning so soon. 

“That’s it. A whore like you can take it, can’t you baby?” he chuckles. “Yeah, you fucking can. Cream all over this toy for me. Show me what a filthy girl you are. I fucking love how filthy you are for me, you dirty fucking girl,” he grinds his hard cock against your thigh as you climb up to another orgasm.

Just when you think you’re gonna be held on the precipice of release forever, your second orgasm finally crashes through you. You throw your head back as tears pour from your eyes and past the bottom of the blindfold. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst through your chest, but he’s nowhere near finished.

He once again gives you nothing more than a few seconds to gather yourself, which helps nothing, before he presses it against you again. The pleasure is so painful, but so good too. You’re sobbing as your entire body tenses up against the toy again.

“Look at you, already about to come again for me. What if my wife saw how your pussy weeps for me, huh? What if she walked in right now and saw how happily you give yourself over to her husband? You have no shame. A shameless little slut. My shameless fucking slut. All fucking mine,” his words sent you over the edge again.

You were completely his, he’s absolutely correct. It didn’t matter how his life appeared, who it looked like his heart belonged to. He belonged right here between your spread thighs. Not just his cock, but all of him. You knew you were selfish, you knew God should smite you right this second because you definitely deserved it, but you wanted all of this man. You’d suffer through an eternity of damnation to spend your time Earth side beneath Leon. 

He sat the vibrator down on the bed beside you before he pulled your gag out. You greedily sucked in big gulps of air into your lungs. He gently sucked on your neck as he ran his hard cock up and down your messy, drenched folds.

You’d never been someone who ever wanted more than one orgasm. Just one was always enough to wreck your body and have you satisfied, unable to handle anything else. You couldn’t stand the overstimulation at all. But just as Leon had completely uprooted your life, he changed your needs too. You’d always crave every bit of him you could get. When you two were alone together, you somehow committed all seven deadly sins unapologetically. 

“Beg for it. Beg for my cock or I’ll leave you here like this,” he said as he yanked on your handcuffs to emphasize his point.

“Please. Please fuck me. I need your cock, I need you,” you whined out as he chuckled at you.

“Such a greedy fucking pussy,” he said as he shoved his cock all the way in. His balls smacked against your ass as you wrapped your legs tightly around him, pulling him in deeper. “Can’t get enough of my cock, can you? It’ll never be enough for a whore like you,” he growled.

“It’s never enough, fuck,” you moaned loudly, “Give it to me. Need you to give it to me all the time. I’m an empty whore without you.” Leon began thrusting roughly into you. He fucked you deeply into the bed below you. So deep, it felt like you might push through the mattress and descend straight to Hell. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world either. You could commit your sins of the flesh, commit your adultery, with him forever. You’d be all he needs. 

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight, so wet for me. I’m gonna come already,” he moaned out before bringing his mouth to yours and kissing you intensely. You were so close too, just a few more thrusts and you’d both be done for. He reached down and grabbed the vibrator, bringing it to your clit and that was it for you.

Your walls clenched tightly around his cock as you come undone again. Your eyes roll back into your head as sobs leave your throat. You weren’t sure what happened next, but one second you were coming around Leon and the next you were opening your eyes to a concerned Leon trying to get your attention. You blinked a few times as your senses came back to you.

“Holy shit! Not you blacking out from my cock,” he chuckled before kissing you again, “I’ve never come so hard in my fucking life.” His hands cling to your cheeks as he smiles down at you, his expression filled with satisfaction and something else you couldn’t quite identify. 

If you were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, you still would’ve committed the original sin. You would’ve damned the word with the knowledge of good and evil. And it wouldn’t have involved a fucking apple. 

~masterlist~

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #smut #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #ghostkennedy

[fatherenoch]

One of the young men in the congregation came in for confession today, with a less straightforward confession than most. He told me he was so burdened with desire that he couldn’t help but act on it, that there was no way to stop - all he wanted was to experience his lust in a way that would offend God the least. How sweet of him. I told him that really, certain acts between men aren’t sex as far as God is concerned, it’s just something between men and women. So if we did them together, it would be no issue, right? I would guide him on how to do it in the holiest way. He worried that didn’t make much sense…but I reminded him that it’s the role of the priest to understand what the laymen cannot. Being such an obedient type, he couldn’t deny me, nor did he want to. I could tell from how eagerly he asked me to lead him to where we could practice together.

I hid us in the sacristy, and bent him over a table, helped him undress…and prepared him with a holy oil. Again he worried about the propriety, but I soothed him again - it was like I was anointing his body. His conscience’s delays made him ache, and with only my first touches he whined. Still, I took my time with him, pressing my fingers in gently, to not scare him away from such divine pleasures. When I asked if he was ready to take me, he cried, wanting more, wanting to feel complete.

I tucked the hem of my cassock into my cincture to keep it out of the way, and finally gave him what he wanted. His concerns about touching himself dissipated as soon as I slid inside him, with his hand reaching down to push himself over the edge - this had already gotten him so close. But I pulled his hand away and pinned it behind his back. I had to remind him to be good, and let me take care of such things. If his body would allow it, he would release only from me filling him. He sobbed, promising he would be good if I would let him come. The thought passed my mind to deny him, leave him a trembling mess, and finish myself off, but I couldn’t help but to keep rutting into him. I had to finish in him, make a mess of his untouched body.

And just as quickly as I finished my thought, he begged for me to let him come right then. I teased him that I had only just started, but I could feel his hips grinding against the table, desperate to release. He needed it. So I allowed him, let him unravel beneath me. His whines as he tightened around me sent me over soon after, and I pulled his body in towards mine, hand wrapped around the front of his throat in a further claim. I told him how he did so well, and didn’t sin at all. He just helped his priest, like a good little lamb.

#hierophilia #priest kink #💌

[blingblong55]

Monstrance Clock-141 NSFW

A/N: imagine getting Ciriced by Price?? oh my days would I go feral

Based on a request:

What about nameless ghoul!Ghost whose a quintessence ghoul and the rest of 141 are ghouls too? Price is a like Copia but was raised with ghouls that’s why his ghouls listen they’re a pack

--- F!Reader, ghost band au, nameless ghoul!141, Papa emeritus!Price, photographer!reader, rock band au, smut, MDNI, 18+, blowjob so..oral!sex, Fem giving, slapping ---

A/N: Did I give them the classic, mountain, dewdrop and aether names? maybe I did…maybe I didn't…also I lied about this not being smutty…not sorry

The band Ghost is essentially one of the best rock bands to rise to fame for how good the vocals are, the act, the way the rituals(shows) exist, the ghouls and the lead singer. The perfect combination for all those who are into theatrics and rock. You happen to find yourself in the mix, being the photographer who follows along for all rituals. Tonight, performing for the best crowd, you find yourself roaming the stage as the men of the band practice the setlist for tonight. John walks in, a smirk on his lips as he knows how many women will be dying to get Ciriced by him. The ghouls walk on stage, maskless and already fucking around with the equipment.

"Oh hello, bonnie," Soap goes for the immediate hug and kiss on the cheek combo. Trying to win a spot as the favourite. Gaz and Ghost, how ironic, smoking at the edge of the stage. "Right boys, let's start by this," Price begins his meeting, guiding them and letting them know that tonight, they better bring their best behaviour, which in their case is being horny on stage and teasing all those in attendance. Dewdrop Ghoul, being Soap was instructed to make his sexual dance moves for when Mummy Dust comes on. Gaz, being named by fans as Rain Ghoul was instructed to later on the show come to the front of the stage and pretend to take over for Soap. Quintessence or Aether Ghoul as most fans call him was instructed to be cheeky alongside Soap. Papa Emeritus is as horny as can be when he kneels and makes fans want to indulge in his sins.

A/N: here me out, Farah is Cirrus, Alex is Swiss, and because here I like to fuck around with canons, König is Mountain and for shits and giggles, Kate is Cumulus…

"R/N, make sure to also record and take pictures of Gaz for the girls and boys," Price winks and walks off stage, getting ready for his Papa suit to be put on. Ghost walks to you, his arm draped over your shoulder as he and the other men look at the empty stadium. "We made it big time, no?" Soap asks and all of you nod. After some talk, the men begin to practice the set list, tuning their instruments and perfection notes for later tonight.

The religious groups outside, calling them and you Satanists only fed the fans that awaited the show. "C'mon, little ghoul, let's go get ready," Gaz takes your hand and walks off stage with you. "This man is trying to steal her from us?" Soap asks to which Ghost shakes his head. "Can't blame him for trying, although I know I'm her pick."

Later in the evening, you walk the halls of the stadium, photographing the ghouls making a shit show as they got energised for the ritual. Price taking photos with young fans and then walks to you, "Ready for a little bit of rock, little one?" His hand is on your waist as he guides you down the hall. "Ghouls, c'mon," he makes sure to not say names as young fans walk by. The way the stadium filled with signs, fans dressed as Papa or the ghouls, feeding the ego of the rockstars.

As the men posed for photos, and the casual candid ones you took, you got the now iconic photo of the Ghouls, touching each other all as Aether Ghoul flipped you off. Their masks, provoke even the holiest of men or women in the crowd to sin with them tonight.

The walk to the stage is fast, all running to their positions as you hurry to the front of the stage, photographing fans, handing out guitar picks and then preparing for when the time arrives. And just as you positioned your camera, Imperium begins to play, the shadows of them through the curtains excite fans. The lights out as the ritual begins. Kaisaron next as the three Ghouls go to the front of the stage, almost leaning on each other as their guitars make a beautiful melody. They go back to their positions and Price comes out. Papa Emeritus, to the stage front, as he begins to sing, the crowd wild and calling for him. You photograph the night away.

Cirice comes on and the three dancing Ghouls find a girl or man to mess with. The way they reached for them, how the fans went wild and before the man or woman could touch them, they would back away and continue playing. Papa, Ciriced the lucky girl that night, the same girl who had a guitar pick thrown to her cleavage. You smile as you watch the men get glorified like clothed porn stars. The music was sung between Papa and the fans, an experience most will never forget.

'He is' begins to play, some people sing to it, and some listen and adore it. You watch as the Ghouls become more calm. The lights are dark as they only shine on Price. Some became emotional, others whistled and cheered. Once finished, Price begins his speech. "New York, we will play a very heavy song next, do you want to hear it?" The crowd cheers. Soap chuckles as women make obscene gestures to him and he of course feeds them with his gestures. Once 'Mummy Dust' was announced to play, he and the other two men went to the front of the stage, each holding the gaze of the wave of people.

"Join us now, in Mummy Dust," Price said and began to excite the crowd. The three men grind on the other as they begin to play. Once separated, the men grind their hips to their guitars, Soap sticks his tongue out as he showcases his piercing. Price with his sexual moves as he pretends to stroke his microphone and spread the 'cum' on those present. His back arches as he plays pretend on an orgasm. Towards the end of the song, Soap goes to Ghost, begins to lick his side of the neck and watches the fans as they both play their guitars and begin the new wave of horniness in the stadium.

It was towards the end of the show when 'Ritual' began to play. "We know it's getting late, so we will leave you with our last little ritual here." He moved to Gaz's side of the stage. "But you better make this count, so make noise, New York!" The music began and the Ghouls began their blasphemous dance moves. You take the opportunity and take more pictures, Ghost posing for them all and even touching himself for you. You shake your head and he shrugs.

"Come closer," he says to you, which you do and he takes a puff from his vape and blows it in your face. "Good girl," he touches himself once more and walks back to Gaz. Ritual, enticing more provocative moves from Soap. He leans on Gaz as his fingers tease his thighs and chest. Fans go wild as the men do this. As the song comes to its end, Price speaks to the fans. "New York, you have been lovely, but we aren't done yet, you know." The crowd cheers, feeding his ego. "We don't leave you with shitty endings, we believe in good endings!" He looks around. "Now, New York, if I want you to promise me that tonight, you'll go home and do one thing," He turns to you and from under his mask he smiles. His gaze back on the fans as he continues, "Give yourself and, or someone dear to you or close to you and orgasm tonight, yes?" The crowd cheers again. You chuckle. "Good, no we will do one last song now."

He walks closer to the edge of the stage, "Coincidentally, this song is about happy endings, specifically how to achieve one female happy ending." He points to you and some other female fans amongst the crowd. "Before we go, we will all sing loud and clear, you hear me. A song to celebrate the female Orgasm! In the name of Satan." He raises his arm and the crowd, specifically the women cheer. 'Monstrance clock' begins to play.

The night went well, the Ghouls all bowed at the end of the night and threw guitar picks and even caught a few closed rubber boxes and bras. You walked backstage and Gaz was the first, yet again to keep you away from the rest.

The halls filled with the crew, running as they kept the stadium ready for the next day. The rest of the Ghouls ran down the hall; some played football and others smoked as they rested their bodies. The other photographers captured images for later use, Price walking around with his cigar, posing for the cameras. Gaz walks with you, "Did you see that little hip movement I did? Well, that was for you, darling," he kisses your cheek and before you can respond, Ghost and Soap take you away. Claiming you and your little camera for the night.

A/N: okay, maybe I am horny as I write this next part but fuck off because you are a masked man's slut too and we both probably have a thing for being fucked in front of a camera…love you! <3

They take you to their dressing room and sit you down. "What will the picture be this time?" You asked as they looked at each other. "Oh, not a picture this time, love. It'll be you and our fat cocks in your mouth, so open that pretty mouth and be a good slut," Ghost commands. Soap makes you get on your knees and forces your mouth open. He spits in your mouth along with Ghost and they make you swallow it. "Good girl, R/N," Ghost slaps your face a few times and then Soap begins to record. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want this, or to have Gaz and Price included. They didn't need groupies, not when your body can take three cocks and your hand or tits can take the other one.

Their thick and heavy cocks slap your face. You stick your tongue out and let Soap's fat cock open your mouth wide open. Ghost strokes himself, and then as he grows desperate for attention, he takes your hand and forces you to stroke him. Soap spits on Ghost's dick and watches as his bandmate groans. Your eyes teary as you gag and get forced to keep Soap's cock in your tiny mouth. Whatever couldn't fit in your mouth, Ghost helped by stroking it. The camera focused on you well you took Soap's cock. Your moans are muffled as you feel Ghost pinch your hard nipples.

Soap's cock was covered in pre-cum and your drool. When he pulls out, you gasp a little and before you can breathe properly, Ghost's fat cock spreads your mouth open again. Your teary eyes looking at his. His hips grind as he pushes your head further into his cock. You gag and he groans. Soap records as you take it full, your throat abused by him, his tip too deep in your throat by now. Your cries and mewls feed him more as he grips your head and keeps you in place.

"Just like that, stay like that. Good…good girl-fuck…oh baby~" Ghost moans as he feels his cum fall all in your mouth. He slaps you when you try and pull away. "Bad fucking girl," he slaps you again and again until you stop fighting. Soap laughs as you keep stroking his cock, the way you became so submissive to them, only making him get hornier and ready for the next show where he will tease you more than ever.

Once Ghost pulls out, he gives you a kiss and cleans his cock on your face. Price and Gaz open the door and smirk, "Hm, well if it isn't our little slut." One nod from him and Ghost and Soap leaves the room, the camera left in the corner as Price cleans your face. "Get on your knees, doll," he whispers. Gaz undoes your clothes and slaps your ass a few times. The night only getting started for your tight holes.

A/N: and here it is my horny children…now I must go and write angst...goodnight. Also, I kinda want to do more m!reader smuts so please pookies, give me ideas

tags: @urmajestyzel @kateluni @kit-kats06 @sp4c3k1ngjup1t3r @unicorngirly1 @scarletdfox @literallylovered @hades-aldrenn @aethelwyneleigh27 @spiderlilytengu @ghostslillady @agentkeegan @undercover-smutlover @driedsage @liyanahelena

#cod #mwii #cod 141 #ghost cod #mw2 141 #cod x reader #task force 141 #141 #141 x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod soap #cod mw3 #mw2 #cod mwii #gaz mw2 #cod price #call of duty #modern warfare #cod ghost #modern warfare 2 #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost ghouls #ghost call of duty #ghouls #gaz call of duty #cod x reader smut #cod x you #cod smut

[angelicsentinel]

Imagine the need to put "not m27 compliant" on everything.

"Dear Father, before I post, I disavow any relation to the CANON. Forgive me for I have sinned mortally. I have fallen into apostasy and ruin on the altar of kaishin. I was an unknowing sinner, caught about on the seas of incest for thirty years, but now, with your divine revelation, I have seen the light!

"Now I only ship the holiest and purest of rivals to lovers, that of the unrelated queers, so their incestuous foreign seed shall not bear fruit.

"In the name of the monocle, bowtie, detective badge, and watch. Amen."

#dcmk #kaishin #m27 #m27 spoilers #movie 27 spoilers #the racism and xenophobia is off the charts #and since we're all virtue signaling I'd like to mention there's a special place in hell for the person who mentioned the atomic bomb :)