#joseph seed x male deputy
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🌹🌹
for every "🌹" received in my inbox i'll post one random sentence of a random WIP i'm currently writing
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We already know I'm gonna post some Joseph and Dennis shit so let's just cut to that.
this is technically?? Nsfw ?? But it's like 🤔 in an artsy way ? Somehow inspired by the seeds giving head poll don't worry I hate myself too guys !
I fully understand if this is not your jam so warning nsfw is under the cut, non descriptive and heavy symbolism instead !
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He doesn't want to completely let go, but his body is turning to ghosts under Joseph's tongue and maybe he understands how anyone had followed him with only a quick glance at his thin veil. Maybe were too drowned in his pretty eyes and slick mouth.
His chest hurts, burns, he feels like he's having a panic attack, he feels like he's going to cum. Wishes Joseph would pin him to take the pressure off, give that slight elevated reminder of who he is, who's in charge, but he won't, he hasn't been and Dennis is almost equal and the past four years have been haunting him and the many to come and Dennis chokes and stutters,
Chokes, he chokes and can't feel his hand that's slipped into his hair, soft like ocean sand, easily as approachable and as annoying to get unstuck, grains under his nails, glass transformed slower and slower until the sharp edges weasel in, under his skin and then he barely notices the danger of it in the end.
Joseph treats him like a broken porcelain vase, sharp and dangerous, needing to tiptoe and avoid which one will slice him completely, Dennis has his hands in buckets of transformed jagged plates and dishes, cups and mugs and violent outbursts that shaped into normalcy and were broken and broken so further they stick without him knowing,
Dennis dives in and his hair is in between his fingers his tongue is branding through his skin and the whole times he's not even noticed what he originally was.
Who he is.
An idle transformation, only obvious when you look too close, think too deep, dive in knowingly and feel your chest start to buckle under the waves.
The initial choke always wakes him up.
"Stop."
Joseph looks at Dennis, initial embarrassment before Dennis moves his hand, laying it over his eyes and breathes out, shakily.
Everything is so weird, he thinks, now he's gotta admit what just happened to the man who made it all start.
#joseph seed x male deputy#dennis Dustin monroe#GOTHIE FAQ#i think this is the best thing i ever wrote ... and it's a discord wip 😭#the deputy x joseph seed#fc5#ty for this ask i need to kick myself to post for them#also normal bunker activities!!#gothiewrites
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Fanfic idea
Single dad au where Joseph has moved to Hope County with jacob and John to raise his daughter and meets single dad deputy
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Farcry5 where everything is the same but it's just Seeds really pissed off because deputy is taller than all of them and every time they just get more creative how to look taller
Faith would fly
Jacob stands on a box on his presentation time
Joseph never gets off the stage
John learns how to wear high heels
#far cry 5#john seed#jacob seed#faith seed#joseph seed#farcry5#farcry#deputy rook#far cry new dawn#john seed x male deputy#male deputy#john seed x deputy#john would be furious lmao
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I also honestly love how the peak Lucas and Joseph dynamic is "Don't you dare threaten my husband even though he is more than capable of handling himself in any danger" and I think that's beautiful
#x: when the dust settles#They are both very capable#But also very protective#These men can handle themselves but like protecting each other#joseph seed#far cry 5#oc: lucas taylor#oc: deputy lucas taylor#far cry 5 deputy#joseph seed/male deputy
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patroclus' funeral pyre
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Relationship: Jacob Seed x M!Reader
Rating: E (explicit)
Words: 1000
@necrodancing666: I was just wondering if you were willing to do a Jacob/male reader who gets unalived somehow by the deputy (maybe saving him/taking a bullet for him) and Jacob just goes full-on feral and slowly stops listening to Joseph
"The Lord giveth, and the Lord t–"
"Nah," Jacob Seed shook his wearied head. "I don't wanna hear nothing from God tonight," he swallowed the sob threatening to spill out. "I wanna hear from you, Joseph."
He sniffed and swapped his sleeve – your jacket's sleeve – under his nose. Another lump was launched into his throat at the thought of your scent fading from your uniform and his mind. And that day could be the very next, the full moon already outshining the dying embers of your funeral pyre.
"Then listen to me when I say this," Joseph Seed sought out his eyes, but found them closed. "I know your pain," he sighed, an almost human sound coming out of God's mouthpiece. "I know it intimately," he stroked the fading face of his late wife. "And I know it was all part of His plan–"
Jacob's jaw squeezed shut, suppressing another sob before he unhinged it to bark at his brother: "That's not what you said when he was alive," his voice was as vicious as that of a wounded beast. "That's not what you said to his face," he closed his eyes around the memory of your smile – the most beautiful he's ever seen – on the night of your wedding.
Joseph had come up the mountain to preside over the small but no less sacred ceremony himself, and even shut up God to welcome you into his family as a brother-in-law, and not his child. On that night, and every night after, you were Jacob's Chosen One, not just another soldier.
On that night, your husband carried you off to bed in his arms. You reminded him that you weren't a child, despite the decades between the two of you. You also drew his attention to his bad back, and how the heavy weight of your body was a strain on it. But he simply stretched it, cracked it, and bowed it before you. His knees snapped as he did so, but that didn't stop him from taking off your boots before slowly stripping you. From that position, he laid praise, pressing kisses on your thick thighs and your soft stomach.
Nothing made you weaker than his coarse fingers fondling you, but nothing made you stronger than his words of praise. And nothing was more sinful than preparing himself with your precum, but nothing was more sacred than him stretching your insides.
That night, you watched him cry for the first time as you worshiped his wounds, old and new. That night, you saw through his scarred skin and into his welled-up eyes. And you knew Jacob Seed beyond the brutality he bandaged himself with.
Since that night, you were his Chosen One. Wherever Jacob Seed went, you followed like a shadow. Whenever he had to swing his sword, you'd do his will like a red right hand. And when the junior deputy came to drag him to Hell with her, you shielded him from his faith with your own body.
Jacob Seed was fully sobbing now, slamming the balcony doors shut, and sealing himself from the smell of your burning corpse. "You said the Gates of Eden were open to him, that he'd walk through them with or without me."
He fully faced him now, in the dim light of his desk lamp. "I was meant to be your sacrifice, not him. It was never meant to be him. It was only ever me. The deputy," he was laughing now, as bitter as the epiphany he was experiencing. "Your chosen one? Yeah, your Chosen One was meant to sacrifice me."
"You are not my sacrifice," Joseph raised his voice, rousing from the chair. "You never were my sacrifice. I've already made mine," he looked up towards the ceiling, crying out. "My Faith–"
"She's rollin' in her goddamn grave," Jacob spit out.
"What?" Joseph's voice cracked, his eyes now returning from the heavens back to earth. "What did you–"
"You heard me," his own voice was as steady as ever. "And she hears you goin' 'round callin' other women by her name."
His trigger hand was fidgeting. "Brother–"
"Oh, so I'm your brother now? I wasn't your brother when I asked for the deputy. You made me ask God for forgiveness for that one."
"Jacob," he gritted his teeth and grabbed his trigger hand with the other. "Brother, I can't give her to you. She is not yours to take."
"And why's that? God change his mind 'bout her faith, too?"
"You’re mourning," he answered, solemnly. "Your pain has blinded you," he unclenched his fist, and relaxed. "When you open your eyes in the morning, you’ll see things as clearly as I do."
“Nah," the widower shook his wearied head again. "I see 'em right now," he sniffed the collar of your jacket and grounded himself in his grief. "Clear as day," He opened the balcony doors, then, the office doors: "Good night, sleep tight and get the fuck off my mountain."
"Good night, Jacob," his brother retained his composure even as he got the door slammed behind him.
That night, he let himself be weak. He let himself sink into your jacket, into your pillow. He let himself inhale the smoke from your funeral pyre and choke on his own cries. And, that night, celebrated your life by playing the memory of you back in his mind, behind his wet eyes.
His memory of your eyes looking up into his, and they pooled with tears of joy instead of misery. While he was weak in the knees, you were strong as you got down on yours, choking on his cock. And you didn’t give up until your drool and his cum foamed around the rim of your mouth. That night, his spit-slick hand couldn’t even come close to the tightness of your throat.
And on that night, he had a vision of his own. He saw you looking down on him from the heavens as he burned through the Bliss fields in search of your murderer. He saw you lighting his way through Holland Valley like the sun, leading him to her. And he saw you smiling at the sight of Joseph howling over her corpse, as he had over yours.
The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.
#far cry 5#jacob seed#jacob seed x reader#jacob seed x male reader#I posted it without tagging it first#fanfic#my fic
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direwombat's fic masterlist
decided to go ahead and pull together a quick masterlist of my fic since not everything is in the same spot. will do my best to keep this up to date lol
far cry 5
jacob seed x female rook [nonspecific deputy]
fragile creatures (on collision with our judgment day) | M | currently on haitus (rip)
claim me, oh claim me | E 🔞🔞🔞| a/b/o au smut
oc: deputy sybille la roux
a room with a view | E 🔞🔞🔞| AO3, tumblr | sybille enjoys her view from jacob's room at the veterans center
the howling | M | AO3, tumblr | witch syb x werewolf jacob supernatural au
wrapped (not in linen or lace, but leather) | E | AO3, tumblr | syb gets railed while wearing a collar.
until it takes | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3 , tumblr | jakesyb + breeding kink
paperwork | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3, tumblr | jacob catches sybille snooping through his files. he punishes her accordingly.
prompt fill | T | jacob and sybille share a moment after their battle
prompt fill | M 🔞🔞 | jacob and sybille have a little wrestle in the woods
prompt fill | M 🔞🔞 | Caress to the cheek after a moment together + jakesyb
prompt fill | M | Chin lift to make you look directly at their eyes that just make you follow aimlessly and without much force really. (bonus if they kiss afterward) + jakesyb
prompt fill | E 🔞🔞🔞 | sybille surrenders herself to jacob
prompt fill | T | ⛑ - Some tender first-aid + sybjoey
prompt fill | T | 💤 A few extra hours of sleep and ✋ A hand carding gently through their hair + jakesyb
fc 5 polycule au
run rabbit, run | M 🔞🔞 | jacob seed and kit cross hunt their prey through the woods
oc: augustine la roux
a mouth full of praise | E 🔞🔞🔞 | AO3, tumblr | joseph seed x cultist!original male character
general
confiteor | T | AO3, tumblr | in the wake of john's death, sybille goes to joseph to confess.
uncharted
oc: paola orsini
wine drunk | T |
prompt fill | Gen | paola has dinner with rafe
party favor | Gen | done for oc kiss week
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The Baptist and the Blade
This one’s for you @roofgeese! Thank you for asking me to write some more John smut! I can never get enough of that little murder gremlin.
I found a prompt that I thought fit John perfectly - “Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”
Lemons ahoy!! 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI
Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors :)
Warnings: minor bloodplay, p in v intercourse, M!receiving oral, lots of religious imagery, two morally reprehensible people going at it
Words: 2515
Pairing: John Seed x Female Deputy
She stood in the thick boundary of trees watching him, silently, tracking his every movement. How proudly he stood on the shore watching his newest batch of sinners be baptized into the loving embrace of the cult. She waited for her moment to strike, when he was all alone. Her prey.
“We must wash away our past. We must expose our sins. We must atone, for only then may we stand in the light of God and walk through his Gate unto Eden.”
The newest recruits were dragged up from the water into the mayonnaise white vans, his men following close behind, and as the headlights faded off into the distance she could finally make her move. Her boot snapped the thin twigs that scattered the ground and he snapped around to face her, bright blue eyes glued onto her in the dark.
“Deputy, out for a stroll? He snapped the bible in his hands closed. "It is a lovely night.” Placing it down on the large boulder behind him.
“Coming back to the scene of the crime.”
His eyes trailed up and down her, “What would your resistance think if they found us out here together? Alone.” He clasped his hands behind his back, tapping the toe of his boot against the stones below.
“You seem to have no problem radioing me on a public channel so I'm sure most of them wouldn't be too surprised actually. Hell, I’ve had Sharky and Adelaide telling me for days that we should just get this over with.”
“Get what over with?” He prodded her to continue, teasing her with the flick of his eyebrow.
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” Her scowl deepened as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yes.” He grinned from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat.
She sighed heavily, “They think we should fuck.”
His eyes seemed to sparkle with her use of such crass profanity. This wasn't love, this wasn't sentiment, this was a promiscuous need, a desire to be fulfilled. Base and brutal, like an animal in heat, she was reaching out to the suitable male available to her.
“Would you agree with that sentiment?” He inched in closer towards her, his shoes crunching through the gravel beach, as his hips swayed like a prowling tomcat.
“Would you?”
“I asked first.” He leaned in towards her, crystalline eyes made dark with his own libidinous desire.
She rubbed at the back of her neck, feeling like an open wound, a dark cavernous hole only he seemed to be able to see the bottom of. “I think we both know where I stand on that.”
He reached out and ran his thumb against her lip. “So you enjoyed our kiss then?” Pride swelling in his chest.
“You only did it to fuck with Joey.” Her eyes stared into his, staring him down. “I’m well aware.”
He placed his hand to his chest, rubbing his long fingers against his bare skin. “On the contrary, Deputy. I did it because of you. Your sins, I know them well, I have shared in them. If there’s one person who could ever truly understand you, it’s me.”
“What happened to wanting to cleanse me of my sins?”
“That will come in time.” He smiled, so sure of himself, so sure that she would see sense - the way Joseph had promised.
She stepped forward, invading his personal space, if he even had a notion about what that was. They stood nose to nose, eye to eye, toe to toe. She’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she enjoyed staring at him - at his stupidly pretty face.
“How would we go about doing that?”
His eyes fell to her chest, his hand brushing away the loose waves that sat at her shoulders, having fallen loose from her braid. “I’d need to mark you first, but you ran before I could.”
Pulling off her jacket and her flannel, she tossed them onto the rocky beach. Wearing only a white tank top, no bra, her nipples were hard with the cold September air.
His focus remained solely on the cleavage of her firm breasts. He licked his lips as his palm spread against her skin. His voice dropped lower in his throat, “Right here. Near your heart, for all to see, the badge of honor.”
“You mean like yours?” She slid her fingers in past the collar of his shirt, half unbuttoned already, running her fingertips against the scar tissue left behind.
“Yes.”
His heart raced under his ribs, blood pumping, rushing through his veins, flooding his system. She could feel it drum against her fingertips, she could taste his adrenaline perfuming the space between them. Dragging her tongue across her teeth, her breath hitched in her throat. “And then would you cut it out of me, staple it up like the others?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to ruin such a -” he cleared his throat and looked back up at her. Her pale stare was deadly, fed by blood lust. She looked at him carnally, like he was a meal and she was starving.
“Then what?” her voice was low, husky, a whisper on the night air.
“Then I'd wash you, purify your soul.”
“Out there?” She nodded in the direction of the water, lapping feet away from them.
He nodded as she began to lean down and untie her boots, her mouth was so close…God help him. She kicked them away from her and unbuttoned her jeans, unzipping the fly, sliding them down her thighs. Her coiled snake tattoo on her leg bared its fangs for him, and her scars that scattered her flesh shone white in the moonlight.
The air was cold and biting, a crisp autumn night, and she was wearing barely anything at all. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her embrace, kissing him as his hands slid over her muscular thighs and ass, grabbing at her, fingers dragging over her bare skin. He moaned against her mouth as his hands trailed against her.
Sliding up her hips, his fingers glanced up her tank top, touching the first hint of scarred tissue. She groaned and bit his lip until she tasted pennies in her mouth, and then felt his cock pressing against her - rock hard with the taste of pain. She stepped back, trying to pull away, but he grabbed at her harder, dragging her back towards him, he wasn’t letting her go so easily this time. His fingers dug into her, marking her skin with crescents and bruises.
“Don’t tease me, Kathleen.” He rasped.
“Don’t fucking call me Kathleen.”
He smirked, licking his lips, blood on his tongue. “What are you trying to hide from me?”
“You won’t find that out until I say yes.”
“Ka - Kit…” He smiled again, slipping back into his smooth demeanor and not the corrupt believer he truly was. “Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”
“I don’t give in that easy, you know that.” She slid her hands down his arms, grabbing him by the wrists and pulling him off of her, eliciting a groan from him with the strength she used against him.
She walked backwards towards the edge of the water, the icy cold waves biting at her heels as they lapped against her skin. She waded in until she was knee deep, sliding her panties down, she threw them back up to the shore. The balled up material landed at his feet.
“Coming to join me, Baptist?”
He curled his hands into fists, relaxing and flexing several times before walking towards the waters edge. Trying so hard to maintain some sliver of control, an ounce of respect.
She shivered in the water, her lips turning purple, but she didn't care, she liked the sting and seeing the hunger in his eyes made her forget about the cold.
“Another sin to add to your skin.”
“Where would you mark me with that one?” She grabbed his hand and slid it over the flat of her stomach, landing at the curve of her pelvic bone. “Here?”
A hiss escaped between his teeth as she took his hand and slipped it between her thighs. The dark waters acting like a mirror below, he could see the reflection of his fingers running over her soft, wet lips.
“You said the greatest gift we have is to give…and you like to fill -”
His mouth crashed against hers, making her stumble back in the water, her hand curving up around his neck, fingers knotting into his hair, pulling on his strands. He pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing rough, hurried circles against it. “I’m going to have you saying yes by the time I'm done.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
He slid his two fingers up into her cunt, while still focusing his attention on her clit, gliding in and out of her. The heat spread from his fingers up her spine like a wildfire. He was well-practiced, knew how to use speed and force to coerce her to speak, even if it was nothing more than a string of nonsense and curses. Her body shuddered, shivers turning to sparks and flashes of lightning as if the Lord above was working through the Baptist. His mouth dragged against her cheek, his hand wrapped up in her hair, tugging her head back.
“Which would you prefer?”
“Whichever I deserve.”
His mouth wrapped around her neck, sucking on her skin, dotting her with bruises. She whined against him. He brought his mouth down on her shoulder and bit, hard enough to draw blood. He smiled up at her and licked her blood from his teeth, staining them pink. Tasting the sweet ambrosia that fueled her, iron and copper spilling down his throat. A blood pact between two debauched creatures.
He pulled his fingers from her, dragging his tongue against them, keeping his eyes affixed on her, watching the flush float up her skin from her chest to her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears - all nearly as red as her hair. Sucking his fingers clean, he closed his eyes and forced himself to memorize her taste.
“Are you seeking penance, Deputy? Is your guilt finally weighing down upon you?”
“I don’t feel so guilty anymore.”
He scoffed, “Such a sinner.”
“Maybe.” She dropped to her knees, water now around her waist. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, doe-eyed, innocent.
He pressed his hand to her face, cupping her cheek, her teeth chattering under his touch. His adam’s apple bobbed at the sight of her before him. Supplication.
Her fingers were growing numb from the cold, but she still managed to unbuckle his belt and pull the fly down his jeans without fumbling. Her eyes went wide at the sight before her, what he lacked in height he certainly made up for in other areas.
He smirked at her reaction, she was feeding into another one of his sins, he’d pray on it another time. For now he was much too busy doing God’s work, helping her to reach atonement.
She looked up at him, desperate eyes pleading for forgiveness, opening her mouth to accept his sacrament. Her lips wrapped around the head, bobbing up and down along his length, inviting the host inside of her, taking him in as deep as she could go.
The warmth of her mouth embraced him, sheltering from the bite of the autumn cold outside. Her eyes never left him, watching him with the ferocity of a predator. But in this moment he held the leash, he was her salvation, her chance to be allowed access to Eden.
Her saliva pooled at the base of his cock, dripping down into the dark waters of the lake that surrounded them. Holy water. She fought to swallow, struggled to breathe as she got caught up in her own rhythm, taking him in and out, her jaw growing sore, but she couldn’t stop, not yet.
He pulled her mouth away, he didn't want to finish, not like that. She had offered him her holes to fill and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to enter her gates. He pressed her against him, her wet skin spreading its dampness onto his clothing, her body vibrating against him. She knew what he wanted and without a word of direction she slid her leg up the outside of his, wrapping it around him. His cock pressed against her slit. Rocking her hips, she began to grind against him, spreading her slick along the length. Thrusting up into her, he filled her. Her velvet walls tightened against him, squeezing.
She bit her lip and stifled the moan that threatened to escape her, pressing her forehead against his. Her weight supported by him, he fucked up into her, hips snapping forward and back, violent and stabbing, the same unbridled madness he used when wielding a knife and she was at his mercy. She cried out into the night, a scream building in her throat.
“Say it, Kit. Just say it.” He spoke breathlessly. “Say it for me.”
Her nails dragged down his sides, leaving long red scratches in her wake. He groaned and hissed, his hair falling free from its normally coiffed style, more the feral being she knew he was underneath. Grabbing at his thin waist, burning his skin as her fingers squeezed. She was getting so close now. So close and she couldn’t hide, couldn't pretend, not with him.
“YES!”
He kissed her hard, forcefully, full of command. His thrusts were deeper, his pace slowing. He came inside her, tainting her, moaning a hymn against her mouth.
Her head fell back as their mouths parted, panting up into the night’s sky. A million stars, the lights of angels twinkling above. Her muscles spasmed and the strength to hold her leg up around him gave way. She could have fallen back into the water if she didn't think he might drown her.
He kept her upright, tight to his body. One and the same, they were connected, entwined.
“This can never happen again…”
“Regret, already?” He looked at her like he could read her mind. Like he knew it was all a lie. She lived so many, she could hardly separate the truth from them anymore, but he could always see through them. See her for what lay beneath her rotting layers.
She pushed him off of her and stormed back up to the shoreline, picking up her clothes and her boots, heading back to the treeline as if what had just occurred between them didn’t happen at all.
“Kit, you have no reason to be afraid,” he called up to her, “We love you and we will take you.”
She didn’t spare another second to look back, running into the woods, the branches of trees scratching at her skin, leaves whipping against her. Punishment. It was what she deserved for what she had just done.
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Musings-of-a-lovesick-fool's Fic Masterlist
Ao3! Kofi! WIPs List!
♡ — Fluff
♧ — Angst
♤ — Nsfw/Smut
◇ — Canon Typical Violence
□ — General, No Warnings
☆ — That special Enemies to Lovers flavoured spice
Last Updated: 7/04/2024
Resident Evil Village
One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure: Colvyr Covali x Karl Heisenberg — ♡
What's His is Mine and What's Mine is Mine: Colvyr Covali x Alcina Dimitrescu, Colvyr Covali x Karl Heisenberg — □
Alcina's Notes on Colvyr: Features Colvyr Covali, Alcina Dinitrescu and her daughters — □
Kiss on the Forehead: Colvyr Covali x Karl Heisenberg — ♡
Hope: Features Darius Lupan, Ethan Winterd and the Duke — ◇
Far Cry 5
The Angels Right Hand: Features Anya Cherkov, Faith Seed, Simon Dallas and Sharky Boshaw — ◇
Guilty Conscience: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x John Seed — ◇♡♧
Tired: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Joseph Seed — No Cult AU ♡
Unwanted Visitor: Features Jerome Jeffries, Baptist!Dean Sinclaire and Peggies — Reverse Fc5 AU ◇
Misguided: Features the Seeds, the Sinclaires, Herald!James Rook and Marvin Brooks — Reverse Fc5 AU ◇
Not a Diva: Peggie!Dean Sinclaire x John Seed — ♡
A Glimpse: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x the Seeds — ◇♡☆
A Moment of Bliss: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x John Seed — ♡
Hard Decisions: Baptist!Dean Sinclaire x John Seed — Reverse Fc5 AU ♡☆
Ain't No Rest For The Wicked: Features Marvin Brooks, Deputy Dean Sinclaire, Deputy James Rook, Jess Black, Grace Armstrong, Earl Whitehorse and Peggies — ◇
A Mistake and a Saving Grace: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Joseph Seed, Features Sharky Boshaw — ☆♡♧
Head For Breakfast: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Deputy James Rook — ♤♡ [Consensual Somnophilia, Oral, Barebacking]
SMFYaM CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Jacob Seed — ◇♤♧
Dying Light 2
One Minute More Love One Minute More: Nikolas Reeves x Hakon — ♧
24/03: Nikolas Reeves x Hakon x Lawan — ♡
The Boy From Never and Ever
Scars & Ink: Nym Rosemerry x Eden Noble — ♡
May I?: Nym Rosemerry x Eden Noble — ♡♤ [Blowjob, Face sitting, Barebacking]
Shiptober
Day 1, 2 & 3: Wade Wilson x Dean Sinclaire — ♡♤◇ [Day 3: Praise kink, Butt plug, Oral, Handjob, Doggy Style, Overstimulation]
Day 4, 5 & 6: Heather Lucille Valentine x Deputy Dean Sinclaire — ♤♡ [Day 4: Thigh Riding, Handcuffs]
Day 7, 8 & 9: John Seed x Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Deputy James Rook — ♡♤◇ [Day 9: Thigh Fucking, Masturbating, Oral]
Day 10, 11 & 12: Mary May Fairgrave x Anya Cherkov — ♡
Day 13, 14 & 15: Faith Seed x Piper Vasquez — ♤♡ [Day 13: Dry Humping, Intoxication, Oral]
Day 16, 17 & 18: Karl Heisenberg x Colvyr Covali — ◇♡♧
Day 19: Cooper McCoy x Gabriel Stokes — ♡
Day 20: Rai Anderson x Casper Vasquez — ♡
Day 21: Michael Sinclaire x Alexys — ♡
Day 22, 23 & 24: Faith Seed x Deputy Dean Sinclaire — ♡♤◇ [Day 23: Intoxication, Strap On, Bareback, Public Play]
Day 25, 26 & 27: Jacob Seed x Deputy Dean Sinclaire — ♡♤◇☆ [Day 25: Public Play, Vibrator, Edging]
Day 28, 29 & 30: Joseph Seed x Deputy Dean Sinclaire — ♡◇☆
Day 31: Audrey Marshall x Deputy Dean Sinclaire — ♡
Underworld
Under The Bleachers: Razahir 'Raze' Khemse x Salvador Hale — ♡
You Shouldn't Have: Razahir 'Raze' Khemse x Salvador Hale — ♡
Valentine, Bryne
The Rain Fell My Love and So Too Did We: Sybil Bryne x Eliad Bryne — ♧◇
Resident Evil Village
Lunchbreak: Male!Lord!Reader x Karl Heisenberg — ♡
Tearful: Features GN!Reader and The Duke — □
Doll: Features GN!Reader and Salvatore Moreau — □
Dating Karl Heisenberg: GN!Reader x Karl Heisenberg — Headcannons ♡
Far Cry 5
Between the Pages: GN!Reader x John Seed — ♡
You're Important to Me Idiot: Male!Deputy!Reader x Sharky Boshaw — ◇♡
Hope County Residents Dating a Plus-Size, Pre-op Trans Man hc's: M!Reader x John Seed, Jacob Seed, Joseph Seed, Faith Seed, Jerome Jeffries, Sharky Boshaw, Mary May Fairgrave, Adelaide Drubman, Grace Armstrong, Eli Palmer — Headcannons ♡♤
Nights Like These: GN!Reader x Jacob Seed — ♡
Through the Pouring Rain: GN!Reader x John Seed — ♡
By The Fire: GN!Reader x Grace Armstrong — ♤ [Oral]
Good Boy: GN!Reader x Sharky Boshaw — ♤ [Praise, Doggy Style]
Intermission: GN!Reader x Nick Rye — ♤ [Public Handjob]
After Hours: GN!Reader x Joey Hudson — ♤ [Fingering, Oral]
You, Me and a Bottle of Whiskey: GN!Reader x Mary May Fairgrave — ♤♡ [Accidental Stimulation]
Caught Up In You: GN!Reader x John Seed — ♤◇☆ [Thigh fucking, Doggy Style, Barebacking, Creampie]
I Always Come Back to You Don't I?: GN!Reader x Eli Palmer — ♡◇
Tongue Tied: M!Reader x Faith Seed— ♡□
Dusk Till Dawn – Part 1: GN!Reader x John Seed — ◇♡
Far Cry 5
As The Night Turns Into Day: Features Joey Hudson, Alexi (Daemon) and Peggies — Daemon AU ◇
No Cult AU Headcannon's: Features The Seeds — No Cult AU □
They Were Born...: Features John, Jacob & Joseph — Daemon AU □◇
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“with your mouth on mine, there's less bullshit coming out of it.“ For a ship of your choice :)
Okie Dokie :)
Randomly selected Seed: Rook Diamond x Joseph Seed!
(Btw, if you are wondering why I never do Rook Diamond x Faith Seed, it’s because he is gay, but I’m always up for writing some friend stuff for them - I have so many ideas about that one 🤣)
(Remember, sexual themes and some strong language, folks)
It had been three weeks.
Three. Whole. Weeks.
How much more of this torture could he take? It was painful. It was slow. It was everlasting. How strong was his will? John had said he was full of will and tenacity. But this… this was his undoing. This, he supposed, was the ultimate test.
When Joseph said that God tested people, he wasn’t kidding.
God must be testing Rook. He didn’t fucking believe in God, but something out there must be testing him. He wished he could contact his Spirit Guide.
Torturous. So torturous. Did he have to spend seven years in this fucking bunker with this fucking shirtless guy spouting utter bullshit?
Rook groaned loudly. “Please, shut up.” He elongated every syllable, so that finally Joseph shut his mouth, stopping his long, dull rant about sin.
The younger man looked up from beyond his cradle of arms, to catch Joseph scrunching his eyes up in irritation. He clearly does not like being interrupted.
Well, tough. Rook did not like being preached at by dollar store versions of his Moms priest. No matter how annoyingly attractive they were.
As stated before, it had been three weeks since the bombs went off. Three weeks since ‘The Collapse’. And three weeks since the start of the two men’s long, long, long, long journey together underneath the earth. At this point, they were both starting to get seriously ticked off with each other.
Joseph’s insecurity and uncertainty about how things had turned out were at a all time high, which meant he was continuously praying out loud, and preaching into the metal box of Dutch’s bunker, as if he were trying to contact all his followers that were left alone beyond it. As a result of this, Rook had been getting way more snippy, and had to constantly restrain himself from punching the wall, let alone Joseph. The former-Deputy’s snide comments and witty remarks (despite internally promising that he would be more empathetic of Joseph’s situation) had, paradoxically, only encouraged Joseph to be more aggressive and pervasive.
By the second week, the preacher had taken it upon himself to wake Rook every morning with loud sermons about Sloth. In retaliation, Rook kept Joseph’s stomach churning at almost compulsory mealtimes (the best shitty, dog-food-tasting canned grub that the Bunker could offer) by giving explicitly detailed accounts of his very intimate, sexual affair with a Preachers son back home.
By the third week, it was war. Joseph had taken to dragging Rook out of his room (yes, they had dedicated rooms now - a little bit of normalcy, at least) and into the main ‘living room’ to preach to him about sin, specifically now Lust and Sloth. If Rook tried to protest, Joseph would use the ‘You killed my brothers and sister’ Card, and the younger man would become docile, pressing his lips shut, clearly feeling guilty. Rook had not, as of yet, come up with a perfect form of revenge for this, but it certainly kept him entertained at night, plotting ways to annoy the ever-loving shit out of Joseph.
It was during one of these happy little meetings in which Rook had had enough.
He literally couldn’t take it anymore. All this fighting was getting exhausting, and Rook had a strong loathing for people who made him feel guilty for being human.
Now, Joseph eyes stared disapprovingly, as Rook sat up properly from his bored, slouched, banana-shaped form.
Rook glared right back at him. He wasn’t taking this shit anymore. “What’s that look for? You think I want to be here?! Because I really don’t, you know.”
The older man sighed, irritated. “You need to hear this, child. You need to know about the dangers of Lust and the way it corrupts your sou-”
Rook threw his head back, up to the ceiling, dramatically, and groaned even louder than before, so that Joseph, once again, shut up with a huff.
“Seriously, what is the point of this?! Please tell me this isn’t a deranged, culty version of The Talk. I have to say, Father, my real parents beat you to it about 15 years ago.”
Rook faltered for a moment, accidentally dampening his own momentum with the thought of his family, back in New York. He buried his emotions deep down, ready to deal with them and cry about it late at night, when he thought Joseph couldn’t hear or see. He thought wrong.
The preacher snarled, aggravated by what he saw as childish nonsense. He lost his patience, and his temper.
That’s how it started.
Joseph’s arm whipped out, grabbing Rook by the collar of his t-shirt and drawing him close to his face. Rook was momentarily choked again. This time, literally. Joseph snarled into the younger man’s face, suddenly on the same side of the table, gripping the base of his throat and the side of his face, to keep him from moving or looking away.
Rook’s breath hitched slightly. As much as he fucking hated it, his body grew a little warmer all over, and he could not play it off as embarrassment. He had made a pact not to lie to himself. He bit his lip and internally smacked himself.
He couldn’t help it. An older, attractive man gripping his throat was basically one of his first wet dreams. And Joseph was so close…
He smothered down any possible sexual feelings as quickly as possible.
Not now. Not now. Not. Now.
He kept his teeth gritted together, as Joseph seethed in a slow, menacing purr: “Heed my words, child. Nothing good or pure will come of Lust clouding your judgement.”
Rook barely managed a sarcastic laugh, while certain… parts of his body twitched. “Fucking is how you make babies.” He stated, matter-of-factly, purposely annoying.
The preacher growled, and shook the younger man’s collar, threateningly. “Stop with that ungodly crudeness. It won’t get you anywhere.”
The former-Deputy bared his teeth. “You sure? Will it get you to shut up?”
A sudden pause in the verbal stand-off came washing over them both. Joseph was taking a moment to find the right words. Rook was taking a moment to enjoy the scenery. His body only got hotter.
Rook found his gaze flickering to Joseph’s lips. There was something about them. He hated that mouth. He hated the words that came out. He hated the expressions that were displayed. But he loved to look at them. And look at them, he certainly had.
No lying to himself, remember? He made a pact.
An idea popped into the forefront of his mind. One that had been brewing since he had first saw the other man and had only grown stronger the longer he stole glances. The idea had grown taller, as he heard that voice of Joseph’s grow louder.
The idea burned so brightly in his brain, that he couldn’t help the soft snarl that came out next: “With your mouth on mine, there’s less bullshit coming from it.”
The older man’s eyes widened, and, immediately, he glanced down at Rook’s own mouth, the lips slightly parted, a tongue slightly poking out, as it licked quickly over the skin there.
The air between them became heavier, with this idea laying leisurely around in the atmosphere. Their faces became closer and closer, as they accidentally leaned into each other, almost like something was pushing them from behind and pulling them together.
When their faces were only inches apart, they stopped. Another stand still.
Their breath exchanged as they both breathed heavily, and it felt more intimate than anything else they had ever experienced, especially Rook.
Which was weird because that affair with the Preachers son was intense as fuck.
Nothing compared to this. Any small drizzle of an electrical current was absolutely fucking nothing compared to this. It felt like sparks were everywhere, it felt like the whole bunker was going to explode, it felt the second Collapse was coming.
It was Rook that lunged forward. His arms shot up to wrap around Joseph’s neck, his body pressing forward and up, so that they were both standing up-right. Joseph quickly put his hands on Rook’s waist, accommodating for the sudden ‘attack’.
The kiss was passionate, and wild. Full of tension, and hateful, yet affectionate, clashes of mouths.
Rook hadn’t felt this good in a long time. He hadn’t felt this drive to be close for so long. Well, if it was new for Rook, for Joseph, it was practically revolutionary. He almost never struggled with Lust. He had had it crossed from his body so quickly. Now, it was all coming in a rush. And, suddenly, this kiss was not enough.
It wasn’t enough. They both wanted more. They needed more contact, more movement, more clashes of skin.
Surprisingly, it was Joseph that started to move this time. Without breaking this kiss, he urgently guided Rook to the couch behind him, pushing at his hips, insistently. And Rook went ever-so-willingly.
Rook expected Joseph to shove him down, but, instead, he gently twisted them round so that Joseph could sit on the couch, and pull Rook on top of him, letting him spread his legs to accommodate Joseph’s thighs.
Yeah, this felt good. This felt right. The kiss slowed down, but their hands sped up, touching and pushing at different parts of each other’s bodies.
Finally, he shut the fuck up.
Joseph let out a quiet moan, as Rook gently squeezed his thigh. In retaliation, Joseph slipped his hands down the back of Rook’s camo cargo pants, dragging his hands along new territory. That caused a sudden, almost involuntary jolt of the hips forward from Rook.
Things only got more competitive from there.
Once again, they were at war.
And you were lecturing me on Lust, Joseph Seed? he thought.
#tadaaaa#i hope you liked it :D#joseph seed x deputy#joseph seed x male deputy#joseph seed#male deputy#deputy rook#the bunker ending#far cry 5 fic#far cry 5#fc5#tell me what you thought of it#i love any kind of feedback :)
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Mark of Sin
It was becoming too risky, their not so secret meetings. Waylon almost despaired as he stared out over the mountain ridge, chewing on a thumbnail as he waited, wincing when he bit the nail too low.
“Deputy.”
He turned, his eyes falling on Joseph’s figure, as he stepped out of the treeline. The cool, calm gaze twisted into a look of concern, and a thumb slipped over his lower lip. “You’re bleeding. You’re always bleeding.”
“I’m fine, I just…” He let out a breath when Joseph hooked a thumb into his mouth, between his teeth, hushing him.
“My blessed little sinner. So adorable.” Joseph’s hand strokes at his cheek, the thumb shifting free from his teeth and closing around his throat. Waylon’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a soft sound.
“Come along. Let’s indulge, shall we?”
The strong hand moves from around his throat to the middle of his back, moving into the small cabin. There’s not much inside, a bed, some cupboards, a stash of food and a bottle of whiskey, half-drunk. Waylon was pushed down against the bed, his hands moving to lace his fingers through Joseph’s, even as he was straddled, hands pushed up above his head.
Joseph leans down to kiss him, hands slowly stroking along his wrists, and, in quick, decisive motions, snapped a pair of cuffs over his wrists, binding him to the bed.
“Joseph…”
“Mm. Settle down.” Joseph smiles as he strokes a finger along his jaw and leaves for a moment, before returning with the bottle of whiskey.
“Imbibing, are you?” He asks, tutting gently. “Sinner.” He unscrews the cap, and takes a deep swig, leaning down to kiss him, the sharp sting of whiskey on his tongue.
“I just want to unwind a little..” Waylon breathes even as Joseph’s hand tilts his head this way and that, humming tenderly.
“I want nothing more than to tear you apart underneath me.” Joseph murmurs, as he slips free from the bed, stalking away and out of sight. Waylon lets out a breath as he hears a soft whirring noise, and Joseph moves back over him, holding a tattoo gun.
“I will settle, instead, for proclaiming you as mine.” His hands grab at the shirt and tear it from Waylon’s chest, exposing him, fingers tickling against his collarbone, before the needle started to dig in, the black ink corrupting pale flesh beneath.
And the Eden’s Gate cross blossomed under Joseph’s careful fingertips, kisses and shushes and placations. More corruption spread across his bicep, John’s scales balanced with Bliss flowers one one side, and Jacob’s sword on the other, a crown resting on the base of the scales.
“And now, you belong to me.” Joseph sighs, as he carefully starts to bind the fresh tattoos, stroking away stray tears of pain. “Everyone will know it.”
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the lack of xM!Deputy content has made my crops run dry, so therefore i will be your one stop shop for all things John/Jacob/Joseph/Faith xM!Dep.
pls send in asks or requests! the FC5 fandom needs more Gay cultists
#fc5#farcry5#far cry 5#jacob seed x male deputy#jacob seed#joseph seed x male deputy#joseph seed#john seedxm!deputy#john seed#faith seed#faith seedxm!dep
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Misc Dennis sketches while I recover from my stomach trying to kill me
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believe
A piece for the lovely @masastiy, who (too long ago) requested a scene with their deputy, Kutha, and Joseph, with Joseph preaching something fervently and Kutha being mesmerized by his devotion, his passion, his body language.
I’m so sorry this took so long to get out to you! Thank you for being patient with me as I recovered from both physical and mental illnesses the last few months. I hope it’s everything you imagined!
-------
On nights like these, Joseph often preaches.
At least, Kutha thinks it may be nighttime. Without windows, without the sun or the moon, it’s hard to tell whether it’s morning or night. All things considered, Kutha thinks that’s one of the things he misses most about the outside world – the sky. Some days, it’s the memories of wispy white clouds painted over red-orange sunrises that haunt him; other times it’s hazy thoughts of the inky black darkness scattered with constellations.
Whether it’s night or day doesn’t matter in the bunker, though, and as he lounges on the sofa in the living area, Kutha finds he’s more interested in the sound of Joseph’s voice anyway.
“Then the kings of the earth, the princes, the generals, the rich, the mighty, and everyone else, both slave and free, hid in caves and among the rocks of the mountains.”
He recognizes the verse. The Book of Revelation has always been a favorite of Joseph’s. He reads from it often, sometimes carrying Dutch’s beat-up copy of the Bible, sometimes reciting from memory. The Book of Joseph doesn’t exist down here, but he does just fine without.
He carries no Bible in hand today, speaking easily from his own recollection. Joseph walks the same path back and forth from the kitchen to the glowing blue fish tank, his left hand clutching his rosary tight, the beads jolting and flying as he gestures fervently through his sermon.
Kutha watches him pace, always fascinated by the fluidity of Joseph’s movements. He’s taller than the preacher could ever dream of being, but Joseph is still lanky, still thin and lean and moving like rushing water. There is something about him that begs Kutha to stare, that begs him to follow the lines of Joseph’s body the same way a painter eyes the angles of his subject.
“They called to the mountains and the rocks, ’Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb!’”
There’s a lilt of something fiery to his voice now, a hint of that southern accent Kutha finds so enthralling slipping through into his words as he speaks of wrath.
“‘For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can withstand it?’”
Wrath.
There was a time when that word would light its own fire in the pit of Kutha’s stomach. He remembers the explosiveness of his own anger in the days after the bombs fell, his bitterness that he hadn’t stopped it. Those were dark days, he thinks, and his memories are hazy. All he has are bits and pieces, but he remembers the way Joseph’s voice would calm him, the way it would smother the fire and set it to embers.
He’s less angry now, but the effect is still the same. Watching Joseph speak so eloquently, so passionately, so surely – Kutha finds it mesmerizing.
Without much thought, Kutha reaches forward and curls his fingers around Joseph’s wrist as he steps toward the couch. It’s a gentle action, nothing like the first few months after the bombs fell when everything he did was full of rage and hate and anger.
Joseph goes silent, his words dropping off like they’ve been stolen straight out of his mouth. For a few seconds, the only thing Kutha hears is the ambient noise of the living area – their easy, mingled breathing, the bubbling of the fish tank, the quiet hum of the generator.
The beads of the rosary are hard, digging into Kutha’s palm as he runs his fingers along the lines of Joseph’s hands. The pads of his fingertips are work-worn and calloused, and they make Kutha think of a time long in the past, when they were both younger and when Joseph was living out of his car in Rome. He traces the edge of his fingernail, the bump of his knuckle, the line of a scar well-healed on his ring finger. His hands are beautiful. All parts of him are, Kutha knows, but Joseph’s hands have always made the breath stutter in his chest. It’s the duality of what they’re capable, he thinks – gentleness and harshness, all in the same man.
A single tug has Joseph moving forward, closing the distance between them in two easy steps. Kutha lets go of Joseph’s wrist in favor of his waist, reaching up his hands to paw at his tattooed sides.
He lets his hands wander. Goosebumps prickle under his touch as his fingertips trail down Joseph’s sides, feather-light strokes over his ribs and down to the divots of his hipbones. Kutha leans forward, tilting his head down to press his forehead against Joseph’s middle. His skin is warm where they touch, soft and smooth and radiating like a heater as Kutha inhales deeply.
“‘Never again will they hunger, never again will they thirst’,” Joseph murmurs, reaching up a hand to stroke the side of Kutha’s head. The sensation makes him shiver, and he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss just above the scar that brands him with ‘lust’. “‘For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water’.”
Joseph’s other hand comes up to cup Kutha’s cheek, and Kutha tightens his already vice-like grip around the preacher’s hips.
When he speaks, he finishes Joseph’s sentence. Calmness seeps through him in that same way it always does.
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
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Deputy: *gets in the car after hanging out with Sharky*
John, over the radio: and you're wasting your time for THAT. This man jokes about your mother. I would never.
Deputy, tired tone, absolutely used to that shit: he made the joke about twenty minutes ago. How long you've been waiting for me?
John:
John: 4 hours.
#far cry 5#john seed#faith seed#jacob seed#joseph seed#deputy rook#far cry new dawn#farcry#farcry5#john seed x male deputy#john seed x deputy#sharky boshaw
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Currently thinking about the small soft domestic moments between Lucas and Joseph...
Like Lucas always making an extra cup of tea whenever Joseph is working so he can drop it by him since he's too busy to get himself a new one.
Or the light shoulder touches when passing by each other, checking up on each other with a simple touch and glance.
The slow mornings when both wake up a little too early and have enough time to just rest and enjoy each other's company.
Those moments in the evening when Lucas is exhausted from work and he just sits with Joseph listening to him read and ramble.
Or when Lucas comes home too late and just falls into bed exhausted, Joseph immediately reacting and turning to him and holding him.
#joseph x lucas brainrot#i'm so soft for them#far cry 5#joseph seed#far cry 5 headcanon#oc: lucas taylor#far cry 5 deputy#oc: deputy lucas taylor#far cry oc#joseph seed/male deputy#joseph seed/oc#x: when the dust settles
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cain's sacrifice
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Relationship: Joseph Seed x M!Reader
Rating: M (mature)
Words: 750
@necrodancing666: Would you be willing to do a Joseph Seed with a trans male reader (who hasn't had any bottom surgery) who's the deputy's brother but kind of willingly joins the cult and maybe smut
"Be not afraid, son," his voice echoed in the empty church as he extended his invitation. "Come," he extended his arms. "Join me in prayer."
Incoherent, irrational, and inconsolable are not words you'd speak in the same sentence as Joseph Seed. Even so, between the fire and the brimstone, the swearing and the sobbing, he embodied all three in his siblings' eulogies.
And, even now, with his heavenly eyes dried and his warm voice steady, you struggle to see him as any of these. Even if he summoned you back to where it all began with the promise that it's all coming to an end.
"The end is here," the Father cups your cheeks from the other side of the pulpit. You seek comfort by sinking your head lower and diving nose first into the palm of his hands. "And so are we," he traces the bones underneath with his thumbs. "You, me," his words trail off and so do his fingers before they find your lower lip and pull at it until it's parted with the upper. "And your brother."
There was a new sheriff's deputy in Hope County and you had been the one to bring him here. Before you had reached out to him, you were the estranged brother. And, by the time he answered, you were one of Joseph's children.
You had a new name, a new family, and a renewed purpose. And you wanted all of that for your brother, too, but God had other plans for him.
Joseph Seed sought you out personally, separating you from your brothers and sisters, and keeping you safe at his side. It was through him that you reconnected with yourself, God, and your brother. And it was through him that you found your way to Eden.
At the end, in his compound, in his church, you can only join your hands together in prayer that your brother does the same.
"God is merciful," the Father proceeds, leaning over the pulpit and thrusting a thumb into your mouth. "He extends an olive branch," he swallows when you suck him in whole. "But it remains to be seen if your brother will accept His gift," he snatches you by the scruff of your neck and your chest slams against the solid surface before you. "Or cast it aside," he shoves another finger inside, holding your head still as he slides both of them back and forth on your tongue.
Discomfort, disorientation, and degradation. You warmly welcome all three, same as you readily receive another of his fingers, same as you suffer the stretch of the seams of your mouth.
Because you do not spit in the face of God - you swallow his gifts wholly.
"Come, son," he pulls his fingers away from your lips and your body around the corner of the pulpit. "Join me in prayer," he cleans your chin of spit, lapping it up with his tongue. Then, he turns you around and traps your body between the cold wooden surface and his hot hardened chest.
"Father," you find your voice, despite your drowning in your drool. Despite your chest being strained by the two hard surfaces it's crushed against. "Pray for him," you join your hands together when your arms are bracketed between his biceps. "Pray for my brother."
"My son," he blows hot, moist air at the back of your head. "I pray he welcomes God's gift," he scrapes his beard against the sweat across the surface. "I pray he will welcome my Word inside his heart," he smothers himself against your spine. "As you will welcome me inside your body."
Sweat, slick, and spit. You welcome all of them between your thighs as he bares them, pulling down your jeans and preparing you to receive him. And you are already soaking when his hand probes you, itself already wet from your welcoming mouth.
"T-thank you, Father," you moan, pushing back against his pelvis when he pulls you into it. "I pray he hears your word," you grind against his groin, groaning. "T-that he sees the light."
"I myself have been blind, my son," the Father unfastens his belt while his other set of fingers pulls apart your other pair of lips. "But now I see," he clenches his teeth and hisses once he sets himself free. "He took my family away from me," he spits on his shaft, splattering the access all over the surface of your soft ass. "So that I could have his," he whispers his words over the sound of skin slapping against skin.
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