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hwajin · 8 months

Text

☆°. — opia | hhj; hjs

genre: smut

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader, jisung x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

warnings: short mention of alcohol, swearing, voyerism, exhibitionism, piv, unprotected sex, coming inside, creampie, cum eating, cumming untouched, dom sub dynamics IF YOU SQUINT, shy hyunjin, shy jisung, (very) mean yn, all three are VERY horny, (kinda) rough sex, messy sex, indirect threesome (?), humiliation and degredation, FILTH everything is very very consensual though!!

author's note: this fic is inspired by mari's (@straywrds) one-shot show me what's under that pillow!! that fic has HAUNTED me (in a very good way) so give it a read you won't regret it!! thanks for the inspiration hehe 🫶

He was obsessed with you. He had been ever since Jisung brought you with him, introducing you as his best friend – he’s heard of you before, Jisung’s feelings for you, which you were utterly and, in terms of your best friend’s sake, hopelessly clueless about a topic not seldom between the two men; though Hyunjin felt dumbfounded. Jisung had mentioned you were pretty, raving about your looks, how you could drive him insane with only a look or a flick of your hair, but Hyunjin hadn’t thought a second longer of it. His friend was in love, expectant to be head over heals for his crush. Hyunjin simply didn’t expect for you to have the same reaction on him. For his stomach to flip whenever you visited, for his eyes to search for you when he should be watching the movie the three of you picked to go along with beer and snacks. For his heart to palpitate and then miss a beat when your fingers brushed against his when grabbing for the bowl of chips absentmindedly and at the same time, for his face to change multiple shades of colour when locking eyes with you, grateful for the dim lights of the TV to camouflage his embarrassment.

Hyunjin didn’t know if you were doing it on purpose. If you shot him glances and touched his shoulders as often as you did to show interest, or if it was simply your persona. He wouldn’t act on it, nevertheless – you were Jisung’s crush, and the roommate situation surely wouldn’t become more pleasant if Hyunjin happened to start dating you. If you had an interest in him, in the first place. It could be wishful thinking, hallucination on his part after all.

You were spread out on the sofa beneath him, the leather a stained, wettened mess, your body no better. Covered in sweat and white, in marks and bites, sundress slanting off your shoulders, bunched up by your hips. Maybe it wasn’t hallucination after all, Hyunjin thought, as he pounded into you, nearly painfully so, you and him both strained, overstimulated, exhausted if anything. He wasn’t quite sure how your body ended up underneath his own, how you had found yourself on his lap before grinding onto his erection with hips of water, rolling to shoot him into orbit, how your lips had clashed against his in a kiss so heated it knocked Hyunjin of any coherent thought. Maybe your lips, the kiss, your hips and body were the reason he couldn’t quite remember, couldn’t quite make sense of the fact you seemed as obsessed with him now as he was with you – moaning his name for his neighbours to hear, clinging onto his shoulders with nails digging into his skin, close to draw blood, pulling him closer to bite at his neck, nibble at the spot you found with ease, licking to ease the sting. He complied to you entirely, fully under your mercy – he was as though a toy under your control, dumb and pathetic and drunk on you, intoxicated and he didn’t care, didn’t want it any other way.

Hyunjin didn’t know if part of your excitement, of the volume of your sounds of pleasure was a product of Jisung sleeping in his room down the hall. If he was sleeping – Hyunjin wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you kept him from closing an eye. And you didn’t seem to mind it, didn’t seem shy about it; seemed to like it, on the contrary. Maybe that was your thing. Maybe you liked the attention, liked having two men head over heels for you – maybe all your touching and looking and flirting was exactly what Hyunjin interpreted it as, and maybe you enjoyed every bit of it. And Hyunjin’d lie saying he didn’t. Not sure if that was your thing – driving both him and Jisung insane, fucking Hyunjin in the living room and being everything but discreet about it, igniting jealousy in both men simply for the fun of it, for your own twisted enjoyment – but Hyunjin loved being a character in this game you knitted. Loved the pride he felt in his chest at the awareness of his current position, enjoyed the sting in his heart at the unknowing if maybe you had fucked Jisung on this very couch already, if you had touched him the way you touched Hyunjin, if you made your best friend feel as good as you made Hyunjin feel. He liked the power you had over him, liked even the bitter spite he held against you for pulling him under your trance, for making him despite Jisung just a little bit. It was a game of the mind, and Hyunjin’s was under your control.

Shuffling from somewhere behind your bodies, and Hyunjin stopped in his movements, halting deep within you, locking eyes big as a deer’s caught in headlights. You noticed his change in demeanour, aware now of the sounds down the hall yourself – and Hyunjin nearly busted at the way you smirked up at him, face knowing, flushed and red and sweaty and written all over with pure mischief, sinful, filthy excitement.

“Sounds like we have a visitor.”

Your eyes glowing in the dim of the room, the static of the TV only light illuminating your agitated features – you did like it. Liked not only the attention but the desperation, the utter patheticness of both men you managed to bound under your spell, liked the carnal touch to it all. And it made Hyunjin fall for you even deeper, made his heart sting in obsession, made his gut turn in want for you.

You shifted in your place, sitting up against the armrest of the sofa; Hyunjin slipped out of you in the process, leaving him naked and leaking onto the leather and you didn’t seem to pay him any mind, focused entirely on Jisung, presumably – yet out of Hyunjin’s vision though he knew his friend was standing in the dark of the hall still, unsure, anxious almost of the possible right thing to do. Not that there was anything right to do, not in this situation, surely.

Hyunjin turned his head, bent over your body still, knees dug into soft cushion, hands on either side of you, shirt hanging messily around his torso. It was surely a sight to see, and judging by Jisung’s face, barely visible in the dark, more so than he thought – the man’s eyes big, mouth agape, an expression of neediness and fear painted onto his visage. The tent in his grey sweats was undeniable and embarrassment struck Hyunjin’s body; that was his friend behind him, watching him bent over his crush, having listened to filthy antics before he decided to come over. Embarrassment, though Hyunjin shouldn’t feel the same amount excitement bubbling and brewing in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he was no better than you. Maybe he liked every bit of it as much as you did, more so, enjoyed the carnality much more than would be seen fit. Because his body jolted when Jisung shifted from one leg to another, nervously, unknowing, his heart pumped more blood into his cock when he felt you shift yet again beneath him, when your voice sounded in his ears.

“What, you wanna just stand there? C’mon, don’t be shy.”

Hyunjin wouldn’t quite know what to do following your words so he couldn’t judge Jisung for still standing in his place dumbfounded, eyes wandering from you to Hyunjin, almost frantically, and Hyunjin’s cock twitched against you, leaking more precum which he couldn’t be much embarrassed about. Not at this point, not when the three of you had already agreed on the same thing, if not out loud – all of you enjoyed it the same amount, the humiliation, the embarrassment, the sting of jealousy, the want. And yet Jisung didn’t move, stood in his place, as though waiting for further instructions – a dumb puppet under your control.

“C’mon, sit down.”

Your head showed towards the armchair across from the sofa you and Hyunjin made a mess on, and only then Jisung dared to walk, clammily and tripping over his own feet, hurrying to sit down in the deep leather of the furniture. He adjusted his pants – if to hide his erection or to ease him off its’ tension Hyunjin didn’t know, but either way there was something about his friend’s demeanour, shy and nervous and utterly helpless, that he enjoyed watching. He must be entirely damaged.

You huffed out amusement, and Hyunjin’s eyes found yours again – burning with lust, desire, eating up Jisung with as much as a gaze; he couldn’t stand you looking at his friend that way. He wanted to be the only one you ate alive with glances and touches, with words so vulgar yet sugar-coated in sweetest honey to illude innocence. And yet, he remembered – Jisung was the one watching your bodies on top of each other, entangled and mark-stained. It was Hyunjin who planted bites and kisses onto your skin, his cum leaking onto your thighs, his handprints grazing your hips and waist – and Jisung was left to look.

“Have you heard us, hm? If I’m quite honest… that’s what we aimed for.”

Your last words a seductive whisper, paired with mischievous smirk, a questioning look towards Hyunjin, as though asking for confirmation. He could only look at the man in the armchair, not nodding, nor emitting any sound of agreement – he could only stare, another dumb puppet under your control. Yet Jisung understood, shifted in his seat; hopeful maybe to be invited, body urging towards your bodies.

“Now that you’re here… how about you watch Hyunjin fuck me real nice, yeah? No touching either of us… just watch.”

Hyunjin’s dick twitched against you, the look on his friend’s face changed now. Something close to disappointment laying within, disbelief, maybe. It surely wasn’t the outcome he’d hoped for – and yet he nodded, sat back in the armchair, cock straining his sweats, hands laying clammy in his lap. He was pathetic, looked the part and Hyunjin wondered the second time tonight when he’d become so twisted – when he’d start enjoying whatever this situation was fit to be called, when you had taken over his mind’s every corner, when the sheer imagination of his friends watching him in sinful act wasn’t a thought embarrassing but something he started leaking at. His tip was an angry red by now, starving in untouched forgottenness – he urged to be inside you again, urged to feel you around wrapped around him warm and wet.

“What are you waiting for?”

Your voice a set back to reality and Hyunjin’s eyes wandered from Jisung to you, and he realized it was him who you were addressing – a smile knowing on your features, your fingers caressing your own body, pinching at your nipple and moving down, bunching up sundress and pulling it further up your hips, scooping up pooled wetness and dragging it up your slit, circling at your clit for moments that held Hyunjin captivated. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, entranced by every of your movement – he couldn’t quite believe his luck, still, and he almost cringed at his own fluster, as though a teen experiencing first intimacy.

Your slick-covered fingers parted from your slit and Hyunjin followed every of their movement up until you lay them upon his mouth, granting a nip of sweet nectar and Hyunjin gladly did, lips wrapping around your digits and sucking, as though presented with a sip of water after days of thirst. He lapped up your wetness, eyes on your own, barely even blinking – if he kept remembering Jisung was watching, maybe with a hand down his pants already he’d come in an instant so he refrained, focusing on you entirely instead.

“Give Jisung a good show.”

He was deep within you without hesitation. Wouldn’t dare to wait after you gave him permission, command, and he heard Jisung sharpen his breath. He couldn’t blame him – your head fell back right when Hyunjin bottomed out, your breast moving with you in motion of waves, bouncing up and down and falling to your sides, a mess of a body, Hyunjin atop it. Slick against slick emitted sounds embarrassing, mixing with the ones of your moans, your sighs and pleads – you were enjoying yourself, thoroughly, and Hyunjin hated to admit more so than you did when Jisung was absent. Your hips were rolling against his own, violent almost, vigorously, your fingers were digging into his shoulders, touching all over his body, pulling at the hem of his shirt – he got the hint, stopped in his movements only shortly to throw off the cloth, discarding it to somewhere on the floor, carelessly. He couldn’t help but give Jisung a glance – the boy was sunken into the brown leather of the armchair, hand only palming his erection as though shy to take real action and Hyunjin nearly smirked at the sight. His friend blushed deeply upon noticing Hyunjin staring at him, eyes growing big, body stiffening – it didn’t go unnoticed by the older man and he focused back on you instead, embarrassed, lust ignited.

He breathed against you, big, sweaty hands back on your hips, taking you in before he continued moving, letting his eyes wander over your body before he pistoled inside you again, thrusts deep and hard, having found you preferred them this way. You were shameless, legs wrapping around Hyunjin’s torso, hands as though struggling to find a place on his body – touching all over his back, grasping at his shoulders, scratching down his sides, long nails leaving angry red. And Hyunjin enjoyed the sting it left. Liked to imagine seeing your marks the next morning, love bites and scratches and imprints of your body on his own; evidence it’s been real, confirmation tonight hasn’t been a dream fabricated by the depths of his mind. His eyes closed, his movements concentrated – if he kept looking at you any longer he wouldn’t last, not with the way your neck glistened in the static of the TV, not with the way your eyes were shut tight, not with the way your chest heaved up and down, so close to his own, as sweat-covered and wet. He’d lose it all, knowing his friend watched him, knowing he enjoyed it as much as Hyunjin himself did, knowing you basked in it more than either of them – he wanted to feel you more, longer, better so he kept it together, despite his dick twitching and jolting and leaking like it has never before.

“L-look… he’s too cowardly to even touch himself, f-fucking pathetic.”

Hyunjin almost didn’t want to look – he knew he’d explode if he did, but the temptation was too sweet for him to resist after all; you sounded so excited, so into it that he had no choice but turn his head and look the same direction you were looking, two pairs of eyes on a shuddering boy, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, gaze glued onto you and Hyunjin – Jisung couldn’t help but keep looking, endlessly and without once turning his eyes. He hated how much he enjoyed it, hated that it wasn’t him above you but liked seeing his friends fuck you despite, right before his eyes and with so much vigour it turned his entire world upside down. He liked that he hated it, liked the embarrassment, liked Hyunjin’s gaze on him, your eyes boring into his own ones. He liked being the centre of attention and yet seemingly forgotten, left to watch and forbidden to touch – Jisung had simply not known that said forbiddance did not indicate touching himself, so now left the subject of amusement, further humiliation.

“You’re blushing? You are a coward though, aren’t you? Couldn’t even confess your little feelings for me, y-yeah? Don’t look at me like that, I know you’ve liked me since forever, you’re not really subtle about it.”

Jisung’s eyes had doubled in size at your words – Hyunjin hadn’t seen you and him together all too often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if your words held truth in them. Jisung was hopeless, a bad liar and all too clingy if in love, and you were everything but dumb; you must have figured it out early on, hence, Hyunjin thought, the utter confidence you held, knowing to have him under your mercy. Having known he would come crawling down the hall if you only moaned loud enough, having known that Jisung was as obsessed with you as Hyunjin – you simply needed to make a move at the older man to confirm his crush – if it was one, mere sexual attraction maybe, or a crush after all, Hyunjin wasn’t quite sure himself – and yet you had figured him out. Him and Jisung. And both of them let you, wrapping further and further around your finger.

Your legs tightened around Hyunjin’s torso, pulling him deeper in, eliciting a deep groan out of him in unexpectedness. You urged him to move again and he complied, back at slow thrusting – though you were paying him no mind. Your eyes stayed yet fixated on Jisung, watching him struggle in his seat, small against the armchair’s frame; and you huffed out when the man’s hand slowly inched towards his erection, one finger and then a second under the waistband, high-pitched squeal leaving his throat, blushing deeply, hand groping his hard-on – and you laughed. A laugh degrading, humiliating, and Jisung stopped in his tracks.

“Now, don’t go on touching yourself now. You’ve held it until now, you can hold it a little more, no? Or are you too needy, huh? Are you too horny to sit it out a bit longer? Are you that pathetic?”

Hyunjin couldn’t hold it any longer. Your voice drunk on pleasure, words sultry and thick, setting off a deep fire within him, a heat sheer unbearable; your walls yet around him, pulsating, clenching with every of your word, with the movement of your body; your hands clinging onto his body, marking him up but never enough and he’d always want more; your legs pulling him deep and deeper and even more, until he felt as though in your stomach, within you entirely, having consumed him, having eaten him alive; and he shot white without much friction, almost embarrassing but he didn’t care. Couldn’t when release has never felt so sweet, so relieving. You had edged him for seeming hours prior, cock close to hurting, having strained against his body, against your insides in angry pulsations, in needy twitching. He came in moaned curses, deep groans and deeper grunts spurting past his lips. His abdomen tightened above you, veined and tense, his head hanging lose, his eyes shut tight.

Only after Hyunjin calmed down embarrassment struck his body, nestled in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t dare look at you, let alone Jisung; he held his head hung low, panting for oxygen, for any reaction out of you – and his heart pounded against his ribs as you laughed once more, similar to prior, and the humiliation spread like wildfire through Hyunjin’s body; and he grew hard again, cock overstimulated yet already urging for touch, urging for more.

“Fuck, you’re just as pathetic, aren’t you? I thought you were more durable than Ji at least.”

You tsked and Hyunjin grew harder, hungrier for you, more lustful. He wanted you around him again, him beneath you this time, or him behind you, or his head between your thighs, or your mouth around his cock. He wanted you in every way it was imaginably possible, and he wanted Jisung to watch it all. Wanted him to keep struggling in his seat, wanted him unable to act, unable to touch, unable to please and be the subject of your pleasure.

You freed yourself from underneath Hyunjin, standing next to the sofa, seemingly contemplating next act, next sin. And Hyunjin could pinpoint the very moment ideas had flooded your mind. Your eyes darkened knowingly, subtle smirk planted on flushed visage. You gave both men a quick look before making your way to the armrest by Hyunjin’s feet, dress falling in a mess around your body and you didn’t mind to fixing it. You straddled the hard cushion, seemingly careless of the of Hyunjin’s semen oozing out of you and onto the leather, mixing with your own juices; and then you started grinding. Bunching up your sundress in your fist, arching your back to make sure and give best possible view, hips going forth and back, your breasts with them. The brown leather underneath you painted white, messy and wet and your thighs were the same and you kept grinding your pussy against the sofa, back and forth and back again, one hand by your hips, the other groping your chest, pinching a nipple. You were enjoying yourself yet your eyes weren’t closed, alternating to lay on Hyunjin and Jisung, making sure they watched, making sure you were the only thing they watched. You liked the eyes on you, liked two pairs of eyes on you, liked hungry and lustful and desperate and longing eyes on you – and neither of them dared to touch themselves, and you liked the control, the power, the obedience they both carried for you as though natural.

You moaned and sighed and breathed and heaved and your hips moved faster and faster, and your volume grew louder and louder with every bite of Hyunjin’s lips, with every gulp of Jisung’s throat and you came undone, wetting the armrest some more, making a bigger mess out of it than it was already. You rode out your orgasm, head lulling back, satisfied chuckle leaving your lips. Your eyes found Hyunjin’s, laid there a while before moving onto Jisung – and a smirk so malicious crept onto your mouth that the younger man tensed in his seat, back straightened and cock pulsating in it’s confines.

“Lick it up.”

You stood from your spot while both men shot you gazes of bewilderment, then looked at each other, then locked eyes with your body again. You stood next to the armrest as casually as though your request was equal to ask Jisung to bring you a glass of water, eyes expectant on his own, waiting, patient. The pool of clear and white liquid next to you on the leather – Hyunjin would lie he’d hesitate putting your words into action, denying your order. He was caught deep within you, hopeless and without returning, and no act was sinful to commit. He would without a second thought – and his friend was seemingly the same. Getting up from his seat, nervous and clammy as before, clumsy as he tripped over the edge of the carpet, falling to his knees all to quick, thumbing against the floor, looking up at you like a puppy lost. A nod from you towards the armrest, “C’mon, what are you waiting for… you wanted to be a part of this, didn’t you? You wanted to fuck me the way Hyunjin did, wanted to touch me, to taste me, no? Do it then… lick it up.”

Last words a mere whisper, though not threating, without menace. As though genuinely asking, giving him the option to back out – though Jisung would be insane to, and Hyunjin wouldn’t either in his position. The younger man shifted forward with a moan, erection straining against his sweats painfully by now, surely; his head lowered, his tongue darted out and he gave the leather a lick, lapping up mixed up juices with a groan so deep it made Hyunjin twitch in his lap, made his hips shudder in their place. Jisung’s eyes were closed, his hips grinding into nothing absentmindedly – his mouth was almost sucking at the cushion, pathetic and embarrassing though he didn’t seem the part, too eager, too lost in your taste, in Hyunjin’s mixed within. His tongue licking and licking though the leather seemed perfectly clean by now, his hips bucking into yet nothingness until he elicited a moan, deep and carnal and staggered, breath quickening, mimicking Hyunjin’s own. You shot the older male a glance, a smirk; and he returned it, watching Jisung wet his pants in sticky cum, entirely untouched, fully clothed. Hyunjin was palming himself, lost in the moment, watching you inch closer to the man kneeling, watching you take him by his hair, watching you hovering above him, cunt so close to his face Hyunjin was sure he could smell you. Your thighs were glistening, your face was flushed, your body was oozing confidence – you were intoxicating, addicting.

“Fuck, you really are pathetic, huh? How about you sit back in your armchair and watch Hyunjin and me some more… maybe you’ll deserve to have a go with me as well.”

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #han jisung scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #jisung smut

734 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

Note

Maybe a TADC X reader who loves either drawing or crocheting?

If you can’t it’s totally okay and I hope you have a good day/night <3

TADC cast x reader who drawing/crocheting!

Flip flopping between art and crochet for each character!

Writing these while I have some brief downtime! Sobs my feet hurt sm

CAINE:

Loves hovering over your shoulder in the air while you're working on art! Not in the annoying way that people do when they hover and watch your every move, literally watching you draw and having the nerve to ask if they can take your sketch and finish it (totally not ranting about personal experience)

Well

It can be a little irritating, but caine just loves how fluid you look when you get in your zone

Keeps every drawing youve given him within arms length. Probably keeps it in his hat. Comically has loads of storage in his hat

POMNI:

Crochet! You try to get pomni into it but she fails so so bad and has a tangled mess of material. Oooo please domt take her hands in yours and guide them on what to do that totally wont make the poor jesters soul part with her body I prooooomise

Gets so excited when she manages to make a simple thing, like a bee plush? Idk I love crochet bees, sm

RAGATHA:

I already headcannon ragatha to knit, sew, and crochet! So perhaps you two sit down and do dates where you guys make something for one another? Or perhaps, for a twist to keep everyones pieces unique, imagine you're new to crocheting and ragatha is helping you make stuff! I think thats a cute idea, me thinks

JAX:

Very bad at both but similar to caine likes watching you do either of the two. Now is he interested to learn either? No I dont think so, but he wouldnt make fun of you for your hobbies and he would join you if you offered or asked him to join you

Very bad at both.. probably gets a little salty that this is something hes not skilled in for once/hj

KINGER:

Make him crochet bugs please please please hes gonna keep them all on his bed/inside his pillow fort!! He always holds one in his hands while hes walking around

Very nice very silly I love him sm

Gives them all names and never forgets the names

ZOOBLE:

You guys sometimes draw together, but zooble is more so a.. musical artist, imo. Idk they give me musician vibes that I cant quite explain... loves keeping any art of you make of them in their room, probably tapes them all over the walls in a unneat fashion

GANGLE:

You and her draw a lot together! In fact that's what brought you two together! It's nice to have someone around who cares about you and shares your passion, I think... very nice.. honestly it's very refreshing for gangle to finally have someone! You guys gifts each other paintings and lil crafts and I think that's cute. Art dates

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

168 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 7 months

Text

Ktober 2023 Day 19- Somnophilia

Javi Gutierrez x gn!reader

Word count- 1k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), hj, bj, subby!Javi, restraints, slight overstim, hint at face sitting, no use of y/n

Notes- Oh this one was so fun to write! Another personal favorite of the month, cause we love a subby Javi!! Starting the fic under the cut cause we get right to it here lol! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

Javi groaned softly in his sleep as his dreams turned more intense. He dreamt you were jerking him off… and it felt so good. He writhed slightly as he practically felt your hand around his cock, pumping him and making him feel so good. Javi whispered your name as he started to teeter from the dream world and the waking one. And suddenly the two realms felt intertwined.

You smirked as you watched Javi squirm under your touch, careful not to wake him fully just yet. It had been a fantasy of yours to do this to him for a long time, and when Javi confessed that it was one of his ultimate desires, your heart flipped in your chest. You waited a few nights to actually do it, though, since you wanted to catch him more off guard but with the invitation still open.

Heat rushed through your veins when he murmured your name over and over again, and you couldn’t help but pump him faster. Your own needs could wait as you were too focused on him. Licking your lips, your eyes trailed down Javi’s naked form until they landed on his cock in your hand. It dripped with precum and it twitched when you twisted your wrist around the shaft.

Fuck, he looked delicious.

The time was right, you decided, and you let go of his cock and positioned yourself so that your mouth ghosted over the tip. In his sleep, Javi let out a soft whine, and you couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your lips. He looked so beautiful like this. Next time, you would have to take a picture.

As he settled back into sleep, you stuck your tongue out and gently licked the tip of his length in a teasingly light touch. He whimpered in his sleep as you wrapped your lips around him and took his entire cock into your mouth. You sucked hard with the intent of waking Javi up this time, and you shivered in anticipation as you waited to see his reaction to waking up in your mouth.

“Ay! Fuck! Corazon!” Javi moaned as his eyes shot open.

You hummed in satisfaction as you kept your eyes on Javi, but you never let go of his cock.

Javi tried to move, but he found he couldn’t. And, for just being awake a few seconds, he discovered his second surprise of the morning. You had bound him to the bed with silk scarves, his wrists tied to the head of the bed and his ankles to each post at the end. He was defenseless and helpless against you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He groaned your name as he dropped his head back onto the pillow.

“Morning, Javi,” you purred, breaking away from his cock with a pop, “Sleep well?” you asked in a tease.

“Not as well as I woke up, mi amor,” Javi murmured, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. That explained the dream he had. But, reality was far better, and waking up with his cock inside your mouth was a more than welcome surprise. And it was hotter than he ever could have imagined, especially with your touch of tying him down.

You exhaled deeply with a smile, “Shall I continue, then?” you ran a single finger up his length, “My breakfast looked delicious, and I’m starving.”

“Ay dios mio,” Javi sighed with a short laugh, “You are too much, you know that corazon?” he lifted his head to meet your gaze, and both of you softened as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“You like it,” you cooed as you kissed the tip of his cock.

“That I do… Ohh…”

Without another word, you wrapped your lips around his cock again and bobbed your head up and down, savoring the taste of Javi first thing in the morning. He cried out as he strained against the binds, forgetting they were there for a moment. Javi bucked his hips into you as much as he could as you sucked at his cock.

“Fuck… Amor…”

Moving faster and sucking harder, you reached down and cupped Javi’s balls, determined to send him over the edge. His moans encouraged you as you hummed into him, the vibrations bringing new sensations. You darted your tongue along his shaft, pocking and lucking where you knew he was more sensitive.

“Amor… I’m…”

You sucked harder, taking Javi’s entire length into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. Tears filled your eyes, but you didn’t care. You kept going until you got what you wanted. And within moments, Javi exploded into your mouth, spilling his seed down your throat as he cock twitched in your mouth. In his restraints, Javi writhed as he moaned loudly, spilling a string of praises as he did so.

Swallowing every last drop, you didn’t let up until you were sure he had no more to give. As much as you wanted to keep going, you decided to stop, not wanting to overdo it the first time you tried something new. With one last kiss to the tip of his cock, you pulled away with a deep gasp for air.

“Wow,” you breathed as you watched him come down from his high.

“That was incredible, corazon,” Javi panted as his eyes fluttered open.

You smiled brightly at Javi as you heaved yourself forward to lay overtop of him, taking his lips with your own. Javi immediately deepened the kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. His cock twitched slightly between your bodies, though he knew he was spent… at least for now.

“You’re incredible, Javi,” you whispered against his lips.

He hummed as he beamed up at you, his big beautiful eyes telling a story that words could never express. “I would like to return the favor, mi amor,” he waved his hands that still stayed bound above his head, “But I am still at your mercy here.”

You thought for a moment before you gave him a mischievous smirk, “I can think of a way you can still make it work,” you purred as you shimmied your body up his torso, hovering yourself over his face.

“Fuck yes,” Javi breathed as he licked his lips eagerly.

162 notes · View notes

pix3lplays · 6 months

Note

No because y’all’s brains are so big he HAS to be a perfectionist. And has a very “I told you so” attitude about things. “I’m always right” so when he happens to once in a blue moon not be right he’s pouty about it. But he can afford to be a lil haughty because “I’m a genius”, ya know? Also there’s gotta be at least ONE person who was like “why does this nerd have so much muscle mass what does he NEED it for-“

I say nerd affectionately, I swear.

Maybe there’s an explanation for that in his story, but for now I like to live thinking there was at least a handful of people who were really just like “???” The math calculations meme, lmfao-

But I just know that Dr. Ratio pulls like look at him- There’s no way he isn’t getting everyone to fall for him. Simps out the wazoo fr. 😳

Also hhhh I like to think he might be a bit particular about his hair. Does not like people getting close to the perfection that is his hair. Very “you can look but you can’t touch” *flips his hair*/hj

Also back to his perfectionism- I wonder if he’d have OCD??? What a wild idea because like that would take the idea of perfectionism to the next level. Cannot Continue what he was doing if he feels even something itty bitty is out of place but then has a sigh of relief when he fixes it then continues like he didn’t look like the world was ending just .5 seconds ago.

(Am I saying this because it also makes sense to me who has OCD? Maybe don’t perceive me-)

His idea of a good time probably has to do with discussing the intricacies of quantum physics or something like that but others are just sitting there like “please speak (insert language here) OTL”.

On one hand, I think he’d have the best time with a person who is also very smart because he’d finally have someone to bounce his ideas off of and someone to discuss at length the things he can’t talk about with others because getting them to understand would take forever.

But on the other hand I can see him being like “you’re dumb I like that in a person-“/j

(But that one is leaning a lil more towards what I’d imagine him like as a yandere but that’s neither here nor there- Just thinks you’re just such a sweet little dumb thing. <333)

ANYWAYS MOVING PAST THAT AND NOT LOOKING BACK AT IT-

As frustrated as he can get with people just Not Getting It and not being as smart as he is, he also enjoys being Mr. Smarty Pants. (Also yes if you called him that he just goes, “But of course I’m smart- I’m glad you noticed.” With the smuggest look on his face because what are you gonna say to that-)

And once he’s started having feelings for a person, he’s just like “I love them too much to really be upset or frustrated” when he has to slowly explain his more complicated thoughts to them.

Widnksjxjs I can see him sitting with you in his lap, gently explaining something in the book in front of you (watch it be a math book or something he is Dr. Ratio after all-) while holding one of your hands and his free hand pointing to what he’s talking about in the book.

Probably during a library date.

Just speaking in low tones so as to not disturb the quiet but as a result is nearly whispering in your ear while affectionately rubbing his thumb over the hand he’s holding. Waow just imagining him being soft and affectionate while doing something he loves with the person he loves is sjxndjjx-

Anyways bye- 😂

Sorry sorry did you just mention YANDERE DR. RATIO?? Are you trying to steal my heart???!

I could absolutely see him Loving being the more intelligent one in a relationship, but I could also see him loving the challenge that comes from being with someone as smart as him AAAA I’m not sure which I’m leaning more towards!

(Let’s be real I’m leaning towards him wanting to be the smart one in the relationship. It feeds his already big Ego.)

But I know he’s a sweetheart underneath all that pomp

And yes no kidding perfectionist Dr. Ratio is so real I hope it’s true because he Screams perfectionist

He doesn’t Need all that muscle mass but Hoyoverse made him and thought muscle mass and there’s a reason for that.

I feel like he’s the type to gasp dramatically in offense after being called a nerd lolol but he was definitely the type who got shoved into lockers at school.

And as a partner??? Don’t get me STARTED???????? Sitting in his lap while he whispers to you???? Yes please??????

And yes that nerd (affectionate) would absolutely take you to the library to read math books with you.

Anyways thanks again for the thoughts!! They were Magnificent✨✨

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dr. Ratio #Dr. Ratio x reader #Hsr Dr. Ratio x reader #honkai star rail Dr. Ratio x reader

114 notes · View notes

leossmoonn · 1 year

Text

“Just” Sex III

masterlist

pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader

type - fluff, angst, smut, 16+

summary - friends with benefits used to be fun for you and steve, until staying one night leads to months of being in love

warnings / includes - language, fighting, crying, suggestive, sex: intercourse (protected), oral (both receiving and giving at times), fingering & hj, changes pov, natural time skips, during s1

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“It was mortifying! I have never seen an uglier dick in my entire life!” you howl, throwing your head back as you laugh.

Tears stream down Steve’s face as he laughs. He takes his hand off the wheel, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Did you say that to him?”

Your laughter falters and you shake your head. “No, unfortunately.”

“Did you tell Carol that?”

“Yes, and she didn’t talk to me for a week.”

“Maybe you should insult Tommy again, then,” Steve suggests.

You sigh with a smile, leaning back in your seat. “That’s a great idea. Hopefully my next insult will make her never talk to me again.”

Steve laughs breathily, relaxing behind the wheel. He comes to a stoplight, taking a moment to glance at you. You look so pretty sitting in his passenger seat. The red and green traffic lights create stripes over your body. Your eyes are shining so bright, brighter than he’s ever seen. And you have the same smile on your face you’ve had for the whole night. You look happy. Happier than you’ve looked in a while.

He slowly presses on the gas once the light turns green. Comfortable silence overtakes you two. It feels nice.

Dinner ended up being great. You underestimated how much fun you would have fun with Steve while not having sex. The little sleepover you two had was a precursor, but it was only for a couple hours before you two felt asleep, and there were moments where it got hot and heavy. Tonight was a totally knew experience.

You two were on your best behaviors. Totally innocent. It was natural. You didn’t feel like you had to fake anything. You feel like you could do this with him forever.

Steve pulls into your driveway, parking the car and turning to you. He looks bittersweet.

“I had a great time tonight,” he says. “Me, too,” you nod with a grin. “We should do this again.”

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. You laugh in reply, knowing he would be shocked.

“Totally,” he nods ecstatically. You giggle softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Steve.”

“See you. Have a good night.”

Your stomach flips as you watch his eyes flutter to your lips. You’ve kissed him a million times, but this time feels different. More sentimental and pure. You have to remind yourself you two are just friends with many, many benefits, and you intend to keep it that way.

You decide instead of kissing his lips, to kiss his cheek. He deserves a kiss for being a gentleman tonight, just not one that will spark something.

He appreciates the peck on his cheek, still smiling from ear-to-ear as if you’ve actually kissed him. He has a sparkle in his eye, the same sparkle that tells you he’s being mischievous or he’s hiding something. You let it go for tonight. You don’t want to ruin the perfect day you’ve had.

“Have a good night, too. Drive safe, Steve.” You get out of the car, walking to your house with a big smile on your face. You still feel giddy and energetic as if you were still at dinner with him. You hope this feeling will transfer to tomorrow and the next day and the next week.

“Hi, honey! How was dinner?” your mom asks.

“It was good,” you smile. Your mom glances to your dad with a little smirk.

“So, are you two dating yet?” she asks. “No,” you say curtly.

“You sure? You both have been hanging out a lot recently.”

“I’m sure, Mom. We’re just friends. Best friends.”

“Okay,” your mom hums. “How about we have him over for dinner, then? As a friend.”

You roll your eyes. This is your mom’s game: making everything no obvious to the point where it is.

“He’s always super busy. He won’t be able to make it.”

“He’s not too busy to spend all his time with you,” your dad remarks.

You shoot him a glare, to which he returns a smile. “He has like, basketball practice and homework.”

“I heard Steve Harrington doesn’t do homework,” your dad snickers.

“Where did you hear that?” your eyes widen. He shrugs, not answering you and continuing to read his book.

“If you really dont want us to meet him, that’s fine. We respect your decision, but we would also love to meet the boy you’ve been hanging around with so much,” your mom says.

You sigh softly. You know your mom worries about you whenever you hang out with people, especially boys. You’ve always been very communicative with them, which allows them to trust you more. But they’ve never met Steve and you know for a fact your parents are dying to. Your mom is always asking about him and what he likes, where he wants to go to college, if you like him. She’s obviously rooting for you two, and although it’s cute, you wish she would stop. You don’t have the heart to tell her to stop, though. Not when there’s a small part of you that’s rooting for you two now.

“I’ll ask him,” you say. You leave it at that, climbing up the stairs and locking yourself in your room.

You approach Steve anxiously. You’re happy to see him. You haven’t for the whole weekend. He chose to stay at home and help his mom around the house since his dad was gone for a business trip.

“Hey!” Steve grins at you. You catch his eyes checking you out before landing back onto your face.

“Hi. Can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Yeah, sure,” he nods. His heart jolts as his mind races with all the possibilities of what you’re question could be. Worst scenario would be you wanting to never see him again. Best scenario would be anything but the worst.

“Would you like to come over for dinner with my family and I? My mom was asking after you took me back home Friday. You totally can say no. They’re just being annoying because they’ve never met you before.”

His face light up at once and he nods excitedly. “I’d love to have dinner with your parents. Yeah, a-absolutely.”

You stop rambling, staring at him. He looks so eager and excited now. He’s smiling to where almost all teeth are showing. His eyes are bright against the dim school hallway lights. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. His feelings are always so contagious. You can’t help but feel the same to a certain degree.

“Okay, cool. Does tomorrow work for you?” you suggest. “6 pm?”

“Yep. I’ll be there. Do I need to wear anything special? Like a suit?”

You giggle at his efforts. “No. What you wear normally is fine.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I gotta go,” he says as the warning bell for first period rings. “But I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yep. Definitely,” you reply.

The next night, you’re running around your mom and changing clothes. You ended up hating your outfit you originally wore. You picked out a long-sleeve striped shirt with a jean overall dress. The moment you were going to walk down the stairs, your brain decided to turn on you and all your anxieties surfaced.

Now you’re in a dress that looks like you’re going to a business meeting. You groan in frustration, hands balling up. You want to hit your mirror, break your reflection so you can’t see yourself at all.

A knock on your door sounds. You rush to it, locking your door. “Yeah? Who is it?”

“It’s me, sweetie. Are you okay?” your dad asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just to let you know, Steve is here already,” he says.

“Great,” you click your tongue. “He’s kind of a dud. Did you know?” You can hear your dad’s smirk in his voice.

You scoff with a small smile. “Dad! Don’t be rude.”

“Just sayin’. Are you almost ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Don’t stress out to much. I can tell he really likes you.”

You smile at his assurance. You feel a tiny bit more relaxed. If your dad says that, it must be true, right?

“I’ll be down in a couple of minutes,” you say.

“Okay, sounds good. Make sure it is a couple minutes. Your brother is about to eat all the food.” You hear his footsteps lull behind your door.

You take off your dress, choosing your high-waisted acid-wash jeans and plain black turtle neck. You tuck the shirt into your pants, pulling up your sleeves so you can touch up your makeup and put on your accessories.

You curl your lashes again now that they’re dry. You re-swipe your lipstick that’s a dark-wine. You clasp a gold necklace on and stick in little hoops. You spray your perfume into the air, closing your eyes and walking into it. You slip on a pair of socks that happen to be neon pink, but you couldn’t care less. No one is going to obsess over your feet, right?

You take a deep breath as you open your door. You hear your mom laughing like a hyena, the embarrassment settling in. You walk down the stairs, turning the corner. It’s a weird sight. Steve stands at the dinner table next to your little brother, helping your mom set the silverware. He’s talking to your dad about some sci-fi stuff.

He actually doesn’t look out of place. In fact, he looks so normal, like it’s meant to be like this. The more you stare, the more natural it feels for him to be so close with your family, to be in your house.

“There’s the girl of the hour!” your mom grins.

Steve looks up from the table. At first, he peers up at you. Then he lifts his head up all the way, straightening his back. His eyes are wide, jaw slack just like the night you wore his clothing. You feel vulnerable again, but it’s not an uncomfortable feeling like it was then. You smile bashfully, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Here, I’ll finish up.” Your mom grabs the silverware from him, ushering him forward.

He walks up to you, eyes floating to every inch of you. “You look… great.” His voice is breathy and soft, like he’s just ran a mile.

Your eyes scan him. He looks so put-together tonight. He’s wearing a pair of khakis with a baby pink polo. His collar is perfectly folded, the bottom of his shirt tucked into his pants that are held up by a belt. His hair is combed over, a few fly-always resting on his forehead.

“So you do. Is that a new shirt?” you ask. “Yeah, it is,” he blushes. “I didn’t like what I had in my closest. I wanted to look my best for tonight.”

Your heart warms and your eyes soften. You awe silently. “That’s so nice, Steve.”

“Anything for you,” he says, his eyes boring into yours. “A-And your family, of course.”

You giggle softly, “right. Well, let’s go and eat. Are you hungry?”

He smirks a little, now looking you up and down suggestively. “Starving.”

You slap his chest, shooting him a glare while you try to suppress a smile.

You two walk into the kitchen, your mom stopping you.

“Let me take a picture of you two!”

You frown, “that’s unnecessary.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Steve states. “I hate you,” you mutter.

“No, you love me,” he smirks.

You heart stops for a second. You stare at him, every word from your brain escaping you. His eyes are wide and he looks regretful. He obviously didn’t mean to say that.

You’re brought back to reality when your mom starts talking again. You feel like you have to say something.

“You wish.”

He forces a laugh, all the air exiting his lungs. He does wish, actually.

You both smile for your mom, having to try a little too hard to look happy now.

“You two are so cute. Steve, would you like a copy of these?” your mom asks.

“Uh, yeah. Definitely,” he replies.

You both walk to the table. You’re sitting across from each other, avoiding eye contact.

“So, Steve, do you have any siblings?” your dad questions.

“Nope, but I wish I did.”

You take a bite of your mashed potatoes, taking a drink of water after. You listen to your parents talk to Steve. It sounds like their on a game show. Asking him question after question, acting like there’s some sort of reward if he answers right. You wonder if you think the reward would be dating you. That’s probably what your dad thinks. Your mom would be happy no matter what if two started dating.

“So, how did you two meet?” your mom asks.

“At school.” you say it likes it’s the most obvious thing. “I want specifics, honey.” She looks to Steve for an answer.

“Well, we had mutual friends. You know Tina, right?” Steve asks.

“Yes. She’s a nice girl,” your mom nods. “Yeah, well, Tina invited Y/n to a party. I was invited by Tina’s friend’s boyfriend, Tommy. We both started talking and hit it off,” Steve explains.

You want to scoff and snort, but you keep your mouth silent. You try to have no reaction at all. Not one that will tell your parents that’s not exactly the truth.

You two did meet at a party. It was Tina’s party and Tommy did invite Steve. You two did start talking. You two danced, putting your hands all over each other. Steve had leaned down to whisper in your ear. He told you how beautiful you looked. That led you two to escape to Tina’s parents bedroom where you both had the best sex of your lives.

“Y/n, what’re you smiling about?” your dad asks.

You look up from your plate, eyes meeting Steve who has a knowing smirk on his face, then looking at your parents.

“Oh, nothing,” you answer.

You’re lucky your parents are so wrapped up in Steve, they leave it at that.

Steve’s foot brushes up your leg, slithering up your jeans. You swat it away, giving him a dirty look. He does this smirk where half of his mouth goes up. It makes all the girls go crazy. You included.

You scoot up in your seat, crossing your legs. Steve brows raise, like he’s challenging you. You stick you nose up, turning your face away and ignoring him.

The rest of the dinner couldn’t have gone better. Your parents are on a first-name basis with Steve. Before you walked Steve to his car, your mom asked him to come over again. You couldn’t have asked for a better result of Steve meeting your parents.

“You need to convince your mom to give me that roast beef recipe,” Steve says.

You chuckle, “I’ll see what I can do. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I had a great time. Your parents are very welcoming. I was nervous, honestly,” he admits. You tilt your head to the side, your body following in suit. “Really, why?”

He shrugs, becoming shy. “It’s always nerve-racking meeting a girl’s parents.”

“Mmm, I bet. Especially when it’s the girl you exclusively have sex with,” you tease.

“Yep. Only in these situations I’m nervous.” He smiles a little, leaning against his car. He looks so hot in the street lights. They’re illuminating half of his face. His lips are pink and glistening with spit as he just licked them. His hands are stuffed in his jacket pockets. His pants are tight around his waist, shirt now untucked. You’re sure if he reached up, you would be able to see his happy trail.

The air between you two is tense. You feel hot without even touching him. His eyes burn a trial into your body as he traces it. You open your mouth, vapor coming out as your exhale. His eyes are trained on your lips now. You feel a gravitational pull towards him. This time, you don’t pull away.

You lean in, pressing your lips to his softly. You kiss him slowly, savoring how it feels. His fit yours perfectly. That’s part of why you love kissing him. The other part is how it makes you feel.

His hands find your waist and he pulls you closer. You kiss each other faster now. You’re panting into each other’s mouth, teeth clashing and tongues meeting. You find his car keys in his jacket, unlocking his car and swinging the door open. You push him into the backseat, climbing on top of him.

“What about your parents?” Steve asks. You look over your shoulder, seeing their bedroom light turned off. “They’re going to bed now. They don’t care.”

Steve smiles and nods. “Okay.”

You shut the door and Steve sits against the middle seat. He untucks your turtle neck, pulling it over your head. His eyes dance around your boobs, hands undoing your bra and cupping your tits. He begins to kiss your neck while pinching your nipples.

“You looked so pretty at dinner,” he whispers, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Thank you,” you moan. You begin to roll your hips against his, your clit catching on his clothed boner. Your hands run through his hair, pulling at the nape of his neck.

“You look so pretty now,” he speaks again, sucking on the junction of your shoulder and neck. He licks a trail down to the valley of your breasts. You look down at him, your eyes boring into his. “So do you,” you speak.

You feel his neck get hot under your skin. He dives his head down and sucks on your boobs, pushing them together and fondling them. He groans against your skin as you grind against him.

You take off his shirt, your hands feeling over his chest. You begin to scoot off his lap, finding every mole on his skin and kissing them. You undo his belt buckle and pants. He helps you take them off, sliding them down until they pool at his ankles. You take off your own jeans, both of you laughing as you find it hard to take off your jeans in a car sitting the way you are.

You flip to the seat next to him, finally being able to slide them off. Before you can get back on his lap, he grabs your waist, placing his hand on your thigh. The pads of his fingers tease up your thigh. You begin to whine, needing him more and more.

“Steve, please,” you beg. “Please what, baby?” he breathes out.

You’re becoming to desperate. You grab his fingers, pushing your panties to the side. You place his first finger against your clit, sighing in relief. He captures your lips in a wet and hot kiss while he rubs your clit. He slips his finger down to your slit, wetting his finger before returning to your clit. With his other hand, he enters you.

“So wet,” he comments against your lips. “Wonder why,” you remark.

He smiles while kissing you. You grab onto his hair, squirming under him. “Fuck, Steve,” you pant. Your eyes roll to the back of your head with the combination of him rubbing your clit and his fingers hitting your g-spot. Before you know it, you’re about to come.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you rush out. Your thighs clamp against his hands.

He pulls his head away from your lips, wanting to watch you come. He’s mesmerized by the way your brows knit together. Your mouth stays open, drool coming out the corner. Your chest is heaving, breathy moans leaving your throat. His cock strains against his boxers as you come.

He slows his movements, eventually coming to a halt. You let out a satisfied sigh, giving him a smile.

“Was that good?” he asks. “Yes,” you nod. “I can think of something better, though.”

You take your underwear off, leaving you naked. Steve loves the sight. Your body has always been so beautiful to him. He loves every curve, every scar, your stretch marks, the softness of your thighs and stomach. He loves the way your body feels against his. He loves the way you take him so well. He loves the way you say his name. He loves your laugh. He loves the way you look at him, and the smile you have when you’re annoyed at him. He loves your banter. He loves how you try to be kind to everyone, even Carol. He loves how smart you and the way you think. He loves the way you make him feel: safe and warm and loved.

Before he can stop himself, he whispers. “I love you.”

You don’t know if you’ve heard him correctly. Your heart jolts at what he could’ve said. You give him a weird look. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing. Are you ready?” he asks. He pushes his boxers down, his dick standing tall and hard.

You nod move on from your thoughts, grabbing a condom from the package he keeps in his glove box. He slips it on, making sure it’s secure before you start. You put your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip as you sink down on him.

“Feels so good, Y/n,” he grunts. You moan in reply, getting halfway before pulling off again. You move up and down halfway before finally bottoming out. His girth stretches you out perfectly. The tip of his dick brushes up against your g-spot. You begin to bounce, the friction causing Steve to sweat and grab at your ass.

“Shit, baby. Just like that, yeah. You’re doing so good, taking me so well,” he rambles.

You watch as his eyes screw shut, a crease forming between his brows. His top lip opens up to where you can see the sides of his gums and his pearly whites. His nails dig into the curve of your ass as your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

After a couple of minutes Steve is close. He looks down at you, loving to see your body on his. He always does this when he’s about to come. You don’t know why, but you only assume your body turns him on. And that’s part of it. But his secret is that it turns him on more than anything knowing it’s you he’s having sex with. Seeing you and touching you gets him going the most. Tonight is no exception.

You reach a hand down, beginning to rub your clit. He swears under his breath as he watches you touch himself, his dick twitching inside of you. Your head lolls back, your eyes rolling.

“Steve, I-I’m gonna. Ah, oh,” you pant. You squeeze around him, one last thought coming to head before you release. I love you.

————

Part Four coming soon!

taglist form

@rootbeerfaygo @murdockcastleslut @mrs-dr-reid @milkiane @mitskimybelovedd @sleepilysworld @peterpanouat @carelesslex @anonymousfleshbag @are-y0u-sirius @stilloverthinking @tbipanic @sunflowerfive @xguardgirlx @sarahwasfound @wayfaring----stranger @arkofblake @misaamaneswifey @itscrystalruby @the-little-dancer-girl @enthyn @godcreatoreli @m-rae23 @lastwandastan @kenzi-woycehoski @wetwilliam02 @katsukis1wife @mushy-mushroom04 @harringtons-hellfire @aree-you-sirius-rn @jesuisbenny @alana4610 @angel-jz @evansflowers

#steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #stranger things

536 notes · View notes

stickofcha0s · 9 months

Text

'Walk In' Doug Remer x Reader Pt. 2

Read part one here

Pair: Doug Remer x afab reader

A/N: heyyy, thanks for the positive feedback on part one!! made me feel good about writing again. If you haven't read part one its linked above, I'd recommend doing so. I haven't written a scene like this in literal years so hopefully its good lol. If ti is lmk an I have a spicier part 3 in mind.

word count; 5,233

warnings: NSFW; oral (f! receiving), p in v, hj, slight roughness (little hitting and choking), more perv Remer. I think that's it but just prepare yourselves in case.

Summary: a few weeks after the 'incident', you accidentally walk in on Remer.

———————————

Walk in pt2

It has been a week or so since the…incident. That’s what you were calling it.

After Joe had come home Remer was walking around like nothing had even happened.

You spent the rest of your night finishing the pasta which turned out a little too soft, and then hiding out in your room, flustered about the whole situation.

Tonight Joe was out with Jenna and so it was just you and Doug at home. You were both on the couch watching Road Kill: Caught on Tape. Instead of the usual sitting side by side under a blanket, you were sitting at the opposite end of the couch, your feet tucked under you as you covered yourself with your own blanket.

Remer had his head resting in his palm, beer in his other hand which he occasionally sipped from.

There was definitely an awkward tension between you two and your pretty sure it was from your side. Remer could blow situations like this off with ease as he often had one night stands with fans or random chicks at the bar.

You tried to focus on the tv, trying to distract yourself, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. You looked at the time on your phone 9:57.

You knew Joe wouldn’t be home until after 3, if he even decided to come home at all that night. He occasionally would stay the night at Jenna’s.

You felt restless as you sat on the couch shifting.

“You good?” Remer asked raising an eyebrow at you and bringing the can to his lips.

“Uh huh” you nodded. You watched his Addams apple bob as he gulped down the drink, just stirring up the restlessness feeling inside you.

“I’m just tired, I think I might go to bed” you said faking a yawn.

“It’s only 10.” He pointed out. He was right. Usually you guys were up until the early hours of the next day watching movies or talking while shit faced.

You shrugged “works been taking a toll on me” you explained trying to excuse yourself, rubbing your shoulder as if you were sore.

He nodded “yeah, okay get some rest, yeah?”

You nodded at him starting to get up.

“Hey- grab me a beer before you head out would ya?” He asked.

You gave him a thumbs up before heading to the kitchen, your blanket draped over your shoulder.

You grabbed a beer from the fridge and a drink for yourself and some snacks, heading back over to the couch.

“Here” you extended your hand out handing him the can. He reached out to grab it, fingers brushing yours.

“Thanks, you’re a doll.” he smiled settling back into the couch. “Sleep well”

“Thanks..” you mumbled heading down the hall to your room.

You went to your room closing the door behind you.

For the next few hours you were pent up in your room watching movies on your laptop, and snacking.

Around 11 you heard the hall light click off. Remer had probably headed to his room.

You waited until around midnight to wander into the kitchen to get some water. Your feet padded against the carpet, trying to navigate in the dark. You flipped on the kitchen light filling yourself a glass of water. You leaned against the counter taking in the silence.

Joe probably wouldn’t be home anytime soon considering he hadn’t even bothered to text you to let you know.

You rested your head against the cool counter, it was hot and stuffy in your room and it got nearly unbearable during the summer months. Keeping your window open at night barley helped, it just cleared up some of the humidity.

A soft noise broke through the silence of the apartment. You stood up straight looking around.

There it was again.

You let your curiosity get the best of you as you wandered towards the noise. Of course it was coming from Remer’s room. What was he doing now?

The door was cracked open and a faint light leaked from the door across the carpet.

The noise came again- a frustrated groan.

“Remer?” You asked quietly approaching the door.

He could be having problems putting the sheets on his bed again. You always had to help him with that.

You peeked through the door, your hand flying up to your mouth at the sight.

Remer was lying on his bed, shorts pulled down just enough to have a hand wrapped around his hard, leaking member. Your eyes widened at the thickness. You wonder how you were ever able to take that during the drunk hookup a few years ago.

Only his bedside lamp was on, illuminating the sheen of sweat that covered his face and bare chest.

His glasses had slipped and were sitting on the tip of his nose as weak whines and pants came from his mouth, eyes screwed shut.

His hand moved faster as he arched his back.

“(Y/n)..” he choked out in a panting moan

Oh my god

You held your hand up to your mouth as you moved out of the doorway as so not to be seen.

Wait a second.

Was that-

He brought it up to his nose burying his face in it as he groaned, his hand picking up speed. The sounds going straight to your core.

“Is that my bra?”

As soon as those words had come from your mouth you clamped a hand over it.

Shit. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

His head snapped towards the door, pushing his glasses up as he cried out going to cover himself.

“Sorry I-“ you backed away from the open door.

He quickly pulled his shorts up, a large tent still remaining.

He panted softly. “I’m sorry-it was just there and you haven’t been talking to me-so you’ve been on my mind..“ he choked out his voice cracking mid sentence.

Jesus, he sounded so desperate

You walked into his room, your knees weak as he sat up, your bra clutched in his hand.

His eyes took in your body, again stopping at your chest.

You snatched the bra from him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Perv..watching me.” He mumbled under his breath.

You raised an eyebrow “what was that?”

“How long were you watching?” Remer asked moving closer.

“I-“ your cheeks flushed.

“It doesn’t matter-don’t take my stuff” you scolded trying to change the subject.

“I didn’t steal it, you left it” Remer protested.

“Plus shouldn’t I be the one mad at you? You’re completely invading my privacy right now” he crossed his arms over his chest, getting up and towering over you.

Some of the more loose curls were matted to his forehead.

“I- your door was open!” You sputtered. “You sounded distressed and I thought you might need help or something-!”

His eyes changed and a small smirk appeared on his face. “I mean, I could use some help”

You rolled your eyes, in the process they got lost and trailed down his chest, a thin layer of sweat still covering his skin. Then Down to his member which was still straining against his shorts just begging to be touched.

God…

“You’re gross” you scowled.

“You’re a perv” he shot back.

“I could say the same about you” You huffed softly.

He looked down at you hungrily. Just his look made you nervous, your heart starting to pick up its pace.

“I thought you were going to sleep” he said after a moment of tense silence.

You shrugged softly. “I tried, I couldn’t..”

“Y’know” his hand swept from your wrist up to your shoulder. “I could help you with that.”

“Doug..” you breathed disapprovingly.

His brows furrowed. “Hey you can’t deny it, the energy between us has been different lately.”

He was right. Even before the incident things had shifted. You didn’t get after Remer as much when he was a little too touchy. And then after the incident the tension was so thick you couldn’t be within three feet of him without your stomach doing flips.

He stepped closer and leaned down his lips ghosting past your ear.

“Whadya say..” he breathed. He pushed his hips closer his hardened member pressing against you.

Fuck..

His words went straight to your core, feeling your body heat up.

“Cmon it’ll be between us.” He persisted, twirling some of your hair around his finger.

His lips moved down to your neck and his arms snaked around your waist.

You let his lips ghost across the skin sending shivers through your body.

“You’ve been on my mind constantly since the other night” he mumbled against your skin.

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “Can’t get the sight of you in your bra, looking helpless outta my head..”

“You wanna know what really turned me on?” he asked as he started to kiss your neck softly.

“What’s that?” You hummed.

“When you hit me..” you could feel him smile against your skin as the words left his mouth.

You looked down at him furrowing your brows, his curls tickling your nose.

“Huh? When I hit you?”

He nodded his head lifting up to meet your eyes again. “You’re hot when your angry”

“Is that why you’re always trying to get on my nerves?” You asked smiling at the boy.

He shrugged.

Remer loved it when you got frustrated. The soft sighs and groans that left your lips as he hid your things around the house. He imagined they’d be close to the noises you’d make when he finally got his mouth between your legs.

“What so you like it rough or something?” You asked laughing a little joking around.

Remer brought his lips to your neck again. “Maybe” he mumbled. “Would you be upset if I told you I intentionally try to piss you off?”

“By doing what?” This intrigued you.

He hooked his arms under your legs as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Mm you know how your computer stopped working last week?” He asked against your shoulder.

“Remer what did you do?” You asked getting serious, your smile disappearing.

“I uh- well Coop was using the tv and I was just really horny- I had to get off and I was having trouble and-“

“Doug!” You gasped. You struggled against him until he let you down.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I needed something to get off to- I didn’t mean to download a virus.” he protested.

“Remer I need that for work” you scolded him.

He gulped softly as your voice started to raise.

“I also, I did go through your drawers” he admitted sheepishly.

You felt heat rise to your face.

He started to approach you again.

“It’s just hard to control myself around you” he whined. “Your scent is just like intoxicating and you look better in your underwear than any model in a magazine I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t have any privacy living with two guys. They were always in your goddamn business.

“What, you want me to slap some sense into you?” You Huffed.

His eyes lit up. “I mean maybe that’d help me..” he said trying to restore him composure.

He definitely had pissed you off. You’re laptop was unusable due to the viruses he downloaded and you would need to buy a new one, you could hardly afford it and had to pick up extra shifts to even make the first payment. And he had denied touching it when you had confronted him and Coop.

But…the fact he liked being hit kinda turned you on and flipped a switch in you.

“Sit on the bed” you instructed.

He did as told rushing over to the bed. You watched his hard on which had started to go away grow again. The sight making you weak in the knees.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“M’sorry, I’m just horrible aren’t I?” He teased pouting a little.

You bit your lip shaking your head in disapproval. He gulped nervously as you stood between his legs. His hands raised to your hips gripping them tightly. He looked up at you from where he was sitting.

“Someone’s gotta teach you not to touch other peoples things”

He nodded.

You stepped back a little watching him. “You’re always-always going through my shit. I never have any privacy.” You deprecated.

You could see the excitement in his eyes grow as you went on.

“You’re a fucking perv. Even to live here I had to expose some part of myself to you! You walk in without knocking, my clothing is always disappearing. When will it be enough?” You asked, getting yourself worked up.

“I can’t help myself around beautiful women” he shrugged innocently.

That’s it, he’d get what he wanted so badly.

You raised your palm seeing him wince before striking him on the cheek. The sound echoed throughout the bedroom and a thick silence lingered after. Doug’s face was turned to the side and his glasses had slipped down his nose.

A red mark was left behind on his cheek.

He grinned a little after regaining his composure. “Let me make it up to you”.

He stood up again towering over you. He turned you so the back of your knees were pressed against the bed.

“I’ll make you feel so good that you won’t have any choice other than to forgive me.” He looked down at you leaning forward.

“Yeah?” You looked up at him then back down at his soft lips.

“Mhm” his hand went to your chin tilting your head forward.

You don’t know how he could make your mood change back and forth this quickly.

“I’ll show you How well I can behave” he moved your chin forward so your lips met.

Sparks erupted in your stomach when you guys kissed. His hands trialing from your chin to your waist.

When he pulled away he kissed your jaw softly.

“‘N I still didn’t finish showing you what my mouth could do..”

This excited you your heart picking up pace.

He stepped forward, forcing you to fall back on the bed. You scooted towards the headboard as he followed in suit crawling onto the soft mattress.

“Let’s get these out of the way” he said placing his hands on your knees.

He parted your legs so he could get between them, his hands going back to grab your hips.

His hands slid under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your jaw, down your neck, sucking softly.

He rubbed circles into your hips as you sighed.

He was good with his mouth. And he was still only above your neck.

His hands slid up under your shirt, removing it.

“There.. now we’re equal” he smirked as he tossed it to the side.

Now you were both shirtless.

He kissed down your chest as your hand went to his hair massaging his scalp softly. He hummed against your skin.

He bit at the plush skin, causing your breath to hitch as you threw your head back.

“Mmm”

“You like that?”

“Mhmm”

He pulled your bra down releasing one of your breasts, coming free and bouncing softly.

Remer could have cum right there just at the sight of the soft skin jiggling and your nipple hardening as it hit the air, excited.

Like last time his mouth was quick to attach itself to it.

You let out a whine tugging on his hair. His moans vibrated against the sensitive bud causing you to tug even harder.

You could feel yourself getting wetter by the minute, your muscles contracting around nothing.

“Fuck..” you breathed out as he let his teeth graze past it.

“Doug..” you whined.

You hardly called him Doug. Usually it was only when you were mad at him. You usually addressed both boys by their last name like some sort of teammate or something.

Remer loved it when when you called him this.

He lifted his head up to meet eyes, going back to attack your lips. He bit down on your bottom lip sucking as he let his hand snake between your thighs, cupping your heat through your shorts. His glasses pressed against your face as he hungrily kissed you.

He removed his hand to hump against you, his hardened member poking your entrance through both your layers of clothes. You could start to imagine his girth just from that, making your heart beat excitedly in your chest.

You whined as you gripped his shoulders bringing your hips down to meet his.

He let out a low moan letting his hips buck back up, on instinct trying to push into you.

Precum was already starting to leak through his shorts as he was painfully hard, basically getting unintentionally edged when you had interrupted him earlier.

“As much as I like this…last time you said you’d only just begun to show me your mouths abilities..” you mumbled as breathed into his mouth “I wanna see what else that mouth can do.”

He pulled away grinning.

“If you insist.” His mouth went back to kissing your body, leaving a trail down to your stomach, Kissing, licking, and sucking all its way. His kisses were hot and wet, leaving a noise every time he let his lips detach from your skin.

When he made it to your waist band he sat up a little. He tapped your knees. “Up”

You brought your knees up so they were bent, Doug still in between them. He kissed your navel, licking the skin.

He sank down between your legs letting his nose rub against you through your shorts.

You gripped the sheets trying not to react.

“God I can feel the heat through your shorts, I didn’t know you had the hots this bad for me” he simpered up at you.

Your sure you were bright red from that comment. “Shut up” you scowled at him.

“Cchh-shh, calm down” he shushed.

He hooked his fingers under your waistband pulling your shorts off.

A smile crept up on his face as he pulled them past your ankles discarding them somewhere in the room.

“Shit, you do have the hots for me! Look how fuckin’ wet you are- I can see it through your panties” he grinned.

His words made your core throb, probably soaking the fabric even more. Of course you had the hots for him. Though you would never admit it because he could be the biggest ignorant and inconsiderate asshole ever, and you weren’t going to let him live with that satisfaction of his roommate fantasizing about being railed by him.

“Y-you’re just convenient” you fired back.

“Sure thing boss” he hummed raising his brows.

After taking off your bra, He hooked his fingers under your panties pulling them down, revealing your heat, exposed. You shivered as the cold air hit you.

He hooked one finger on each side of your underwear displaying it.

“Mmm- y’know I won’t take your bra but I’m definitely keeping these.”

You furrowed your brows at him.

“Remer- what did I say about taking my shit?”

He balled the panties up pressing them up to his nose, inhaling letting his eyes flutter shut.

The sight made you force out a shaky breath.

He opened his eyes, moving from between your legs. He moved to his bedside table, shoving the panties in the top drawer.

“Too bad” he mumbled pushing out his bottom lip, pretending to pout, mocking you.

He sunk back between your legs, brining his face down to your opening.

He blew softly on your heat, earning a whine out of you.

“You look delicious” he hummed.

You looked down at his curls, unable to see his face.

“I hope todays an all you can eat buffet” he said chuckling softly.

You rolled your eyes letting out a small laugh. “You’re stupid Doug.”

“I can’t think smart around you” he responded.

You painfully waited as he teased you, using his fingers to part your lips and mumbling things to himself that you couldn’t understand.

You whined, trying to urge him to touch or do anything to stimulate you.

“God you’re so fucking wet…” he muttered.

Finally he brought his face forward, starting slow and then picking up his pace, attacking your folds.

You bucked your hips at the sudden feeling, hand going to grip his hair.

He sucked on your clit, letting his teeth graze over your bud.

You pushed his face closer, causing his nose to press into your pubic hair and his glasses smushing against the skin.

You let out a mewl as he basically made out with your clit sucking at the sensitive skin. Lewd noises filled the room as he hungrily fed on you, echoing in the hot and quiet room.

He pulled his mouth away moaning softly, looking up at you. Your juices covering his chin.

“You taste so sweet” he whined out.

You reached down to pull his glasses off his face

“There, now they won’t be in the way” you put them on the dresser.

He Dove back down blowing on you.

He tsked

“Getting all over my clean sheets, you’re so messy”

Your cheeks flushed as he made comments about you.

“Gonna have to clean this mess up-“ he pushed his face between your thighs, his tongue entering you. You yanked on his hair.

“Doug!~”

He gripped onto your thighs to steady himself as he pushed his face forward seeing how deep his tongue could reach.

You let out a string of lewd noises as he tongue fucked you, muscles trying to clench around his tongue. his grip tightened on your thighs, definitely leaving bruises.

He lapped at your folds trying to clean up the mess you kept creating.

You could feel yourself already approaching your high. You hadn’t been touched in forever, let alone like this. And you were embarrassed to already be so close. But you’d never felt this pleasured before.

You bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts, his nose rubbing against your clit driving you crazy. He let his head relax as you gripped onto his hair, guiding it for him.

You moved your hips as you guided his head up and down, forcing his nose to stimulate your aching clit.

“I’m close” you cried as he sucked on your bud, feeling your muscles tighten.

He pulled his head away as you said that. When he looked up at you, you almost came at the sight. His cheeks were flushed and his nose down to his chin was glistening. He looked at you through half lidded eyes smiling.

You whined at the loss of his mouth, the cold air hitting you again making your muscles clench.

He sat up going to kiss you, forcing you to taste your own juices. You moaned as he knotted a hand in your hair, tugging gently.

He brought it around to the front where he squeezed your throat. You threw your head back gasping softly.

“Mm y’like that?” He mumbled into your neck nibbling on your ear lobe.

You nodded.

He kissed your jaw as he sat up.

“My tongue’s a little tired, I think I’m gonna show you the thing I’m best at” he smirked.

You gazed up at him through your lashes

“And what’s that”

He pulled down his shorts tossing them to the side leaving him in boxers, his member straining against them leaving no need for the imagination. A wet patch had leaked through. You pressed two fingers to the dark patch.

“That’s all because of you” he said nodding softly.

You hooked your fingers in his waistband, pulling them down. His member sprung out slapping against his stomach. He hissed lightly as the cool air hit him. Your eyes widened as you looked at him between your legs.

It looked even thicker up close and he had a thick bush. This somehow turned you on even more.

He seemed to notice the nervous expression on your face.

“Don’t worry. I’ll try not to split you in half” he said trying to suppress a smile.

You nodded as you leaned back resting on your elbows.

He rubbed his tip softly, precum leaking from it. He ran a hand down his member slicking it up with his own juices.

He leaned forward looking down trying to guide himself, a hand on his base.

The only sound was your heavy breathing, your chest rising and falling.

He kissed your neck softly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow”

He lined himself up, pressing through your folds and guiding the tip in. You spread your legs apart even more hoping it would help open you up. Luckily you were wet enough for it not to be horrible.

“So wet I don’t even need lube” he breathed out.

You screwed your eyes shut digging your nails into his shoulder as he pushed himself in inch my inch.

Your muscles tightened around him as he slowly inched in until he bottomed out.

He filled you up perfectly. You felt so full.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he let you adjust, waiting for the pained look on your face to go away.

You gave him a nod and he propped himself up.

His pace started slow at first. His girth moving in and out of you causing your head to roll back.

“Oh Doug..” you whimpered.

“Tell me how bad you want it” he mumbled into your ear.”

“I need you…so bad” you mewled cupping his face as he panted into your ear slowly thrusting in and out.

Those words were all he needed.

He pulled out to shift you, throwing your legs over his shoulder to get a better angle.

He Gripped your hips and gave you a quick kiss on the lips before slamming into you. You gasped gripping the sheets.

He immediately started ramming in and out of you at an inhumane pace.

You used one Hand to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his soft skin and your other hand naturally went to his hair.

Wet noises filled the room as his hips met yours over and over again.

Doug was not quiet in bed and his moans and whines drove you crazy. He was definitely enjoying this as much as you were.

He leaned forward to give you a kiss every now and then, his nose pressing against your face. Though kissing wasn’t very successful. So lust drunk that it was basically you just moaning and panting into each other’s open mouths.

“So fucking tight- gonna loosen you up so much that you’ll feel empty unless I’m the one fucking you” he growled into your ear.

You nodded crying out as you yanked on his hair, his head falling back. You watched his eyes screw shut and his mouth hang open.

“Oh god..” he whimpered.

“Do that again” he begged as he fucked you harder, the headboard starting to hit the wall.

You tugged again harder this time.

“So good babe” he mewled. One of his hands went to your throat clamping around it as he fucked you senseless. Hips snapping forward.

You screwed your eyes shut as he cut off your airway feeling the high within your brain. Every few seconds he loosen his grip to hear you moan and let you breathe.

You felt your legs shake as they sat on his shoulders, heat pooling in your stomach.

Doug was determined to have you finish before him. He pressed a hand to your lower stomach increasing the pleasure.

You cried out, bucking your hips do meet his thrusts.

“Oh fuck Doug- I’m so close” you cried as he pressed in your stomach.

He nodded, a bead of sweat dripping down his face.

“Look at this (y/n)!” He grabbed your hair, yanking your head up to watch him thrusting inside you. You moaned as he did so.

“I’m the only one who can fill you this good!” He raised his voice, but a shaky whimper remained behind it.

“I’m the only one who can fill up a slut like you” he growled. His words sent you over the edge as you clenched around him, earning a high groan from him.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he let your hair go, letting you fall back into the pillows. Your body buzzed as he thrust into your sensitive spots, making you whimper.

His hand came up to palm your breast as he felt you start to clench around him, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

“Doug I’m close~..” you panted.

He nodded. “Come for me- look at me when you do”

You lifted your head to make eye contact with him as he thrust into you. You clenched around him as he watched you, his mouth slightly open.

You gripped his shoulders as you felt yourself peak.

“Mm say my name when you cum” he told you. He thrusted over and over into your sensitive spot as you reached your climax.

You felt your eyes roll back as your body clenched around him, shaking.

��Jesus- Doug!” You cried out as you came, harder than you had in a long time.

“M right here baby” he assured you, as he slowed down his pace a little.

You panted as you came down. He kissed you as you came back.

“M right behind you” he slowed down pulling out, his length fully erect and painfully hard.

You rushed to sit up shaking as you wrapped a hand around his length, pumping it as fast as you could get your buzzing arms to go. He sat between your legs moaning as he tugged on his own hair whimpering obscenities.

“M’ cumming” he warned.

You bit your lip panting as you sped up, rubbing his tip.

“Oh fuck, yes- yes (y/n)!” He cried

You watched as his eyes rolled back and hot cum spirted from his tip, getting on your stomach.

His mouth hung open as he came to, panting.

“Holy shit” he mumbled.

You nodded.

“And you were down the hall this whole time?” He breathed.

He looked down at you, propped up on your elbows, cum on your stomach and your own juices wetting the sheets beneath you.

He grabbed a tshirt from the floor cleaning your stomach.

Gross.

He laid down next to you, putting on his glasses and looking at you with half lidded eyes, pulling the blankets over you both.

“So m’ i any good?” He smirked kissing your jaw.

You nodded, still exhausted. “I can’t believe we hadn’t done this sober yet”

He nodded in agreement. “I can’t imagine how that time we were wasted went”

“I’ve been wanting you for so long” he smiled.

“Yeah?”

He hummed. “Yeah”

“Was it as good as you imagined?” You asked

“Better” he panted running a hand through his hair.

You sat in silence for a bit, listening to the air conditioning.

“Next time it’ll be even better” he assured you.

“Who said there’s gonna be a next time?”you said turning to face him.

He smiled “what, are you saying you didn’t enjoy this enough to do it again?”

You shook your head “wasn’t saying that at all…”

“Mm so like I said next time will be even better” he repeated turning to burry his head in the crook of your neck and splay an arm around your waist.

#doug remer x reader #doug remer #baseketball #south park #matt stone #trey parker #idk what else to tag #doug remer smut #mattrey #joe cooper #Perv Doug Remer

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ghouljams · 7 months

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ah, i realize ive been liking a lot of your posts at an alarming rate IM VERY SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO IYGRWGFHERU i took a break from tumblr and have just spent the day catching up on everything i missed (my bad:( ) BUT WOW SCRUMPTIOUS AS ALWAYS THANK YIU FOR THE FOOD GODBLESS HOLY FUCK. YOUR KNIGHT N PRINCESS AU GOT ME SOBBING ITS SO WELL WRITTEN I WANT TO SCREAM (1fae1 and viking!soap still has me bouncing your writing is SO insnae oh my god AND THE DEMON DARLINGS? i was having SUCH a blast bingeing) BUT. still standing on the hill of goose being my favourite god im so in love with her WITCH IS A CLOSE SECOND please please just one chance... 🧎 🧎 🧎 (i get disembowelled) im like, so serious about this. your goose x reader fics are my favourite fucking thing in the world. goose (and on occasion witch, ...i think im just very gay) is the only one that can make me squeal and giggle and run laps around my room you dont understand the visceral squealing that was happening. the cod men? yea im hyperfixated but like ehhh🙄 mid. just some guys. some dudes. got me straight faced no expression i read for mindless entertainment. (/hj) LMDEFOIGRJGRTUGTOGFEWFER BUT GOOSE?? IM BARKING IM MEOWING ANYTHING PLEASE JSUT ONE CHANCE IM CRAWLING ON MY KNEES ARRURRYRGHRRRR 👹 👹 👹 👹 (so sorry for being abnormal in your ask box im done now 😔)

Be abnormal in my inbox I'm loving it. I'll write some Goose x reader just for you my love(and for me)

The only thing worse than Halloween in the city is Halloween in the country. There seems to be nothing these people enjoy more than scaring the hell out of the city folk unlucky enough to wander into their "haunted trail" or "corn maze of doom." Popular attractions that boasted what looked like startlingly real entrails, and over excited ranch hands revving chainsaws at anyone that walked too close. It's the best, you would spend every weekend out here if you could. Especially if it means getting a peak at the real attraction.

You've seen more than one person posting on social media about one specific corn maze's "killer". The mask is nothing special, one of those blank white party masks, but the bursts of laughter and physicality of the woman under it? You were a little smitten.

Smitten enough to be leisurely as you wander the maze. You're properly spooked by the glowing eyes in the corn, the growing sense of unease as you come across blood splatters and viscera, even the other scare actors jumping out to make you run for the next turn. Still, none of them are who you're looking for. You're not quite paying attention to the maze, you don't think you're lost, but you're starting to worry you'll get out before you ever meet your favorite scare.

You shouldn't have been.

You turn away from your fifth dead end and come face to face with her. Everything about her is curated to inspire danger, her clothing ripped and splattered with blood, the grimy mask leaving just enough room for her eyes to shine through it, down to the butcher's knife clutched in her hand. Deep crimson liquid drips off the startlingly realistic blade and onto her boots. Her posture makes you feel like you're staring down a wild animal, her movements unnatural as she takes a step towards you.

Despite all of that your heart skips a beat for a reason so far from fear you're actually a little worried about your mental state. You're frozen at the sight of her, unsure how to drag out this moment. You want to say something. Fuck what do you say to a scare actor you're more than a little in love with?

"You're supposed to run sugar," She tells you, tipping her head to one side. You giggle nervously at the affection, watching her flip the knife in her hand. She hums, hunching her shoulders to tip her head further, looking at you sideways. "It's no fun if you don't run, you want this to be fun don't you?" You nod, you think she wants you to say yes and you desperately want to do what she wants. "Then go on baby," She presses, straightening to her full height, "run."

She stands to the side as you sprint past her, you feel the wick of metal against your leg. When you look down your pant leg has a fresh cut right at your thigh. That's a real fucking knife. Christ, that's a real knife. Why does that make you so excited?

You glance behind you and she's gone. Your disappointment is short lived, you're forced to stop short by her cleaver cutting through the tall stalks of corn on your left. Her eyes wild with excitement as you start to wonder if this is maybe... not a haunted corn maze. She flips her knife and swings at you. You duck with a sharp yelp and take off running again. You don't bother checking behind you again, you take turns quick and haphazardly. You hear the 'shick' of her knife as she cuts the air behind you and you know she's on your tail.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath heaving as you run. Despite the adrenaline you can't help responding to her wild laughter with some of your own. You're having fun. Really terrifying fun, but fun none the less.

You turn into a dead end and stop short, just as you feel fingers grab the back of your neck. Your pursuer tugs you back against her chest, the edge of her knife pressing tantalizingly against your throat.

"Well that was unlucky," She tells you, low and sweet against your ear. The plastic of her mask hardly dampens the feeling of her words. You shiver, careful of her blade as you swallow.

"Fuck you're hot," You blurt out, adrenaline making you significantly less eloquent than you would have liked. You cringe a little. She snorts.

"That right?" Her fingers drift from gripping your neck to your hair, scratching your scalp before grabbing tight at the base. The ache of it is pleasantly sharp, you get the feeling that this isn't part of the scare. "Always fun when y'all come through," She breathes, talking to herself. You press back against her, feel her slot her knee between your legs as you do. You were just trying to put some distance between yourself and the edge of the knife, but this feels like something totally different. "You want me to slice you baby?" She patronizes, barely a whisper against your ear.

"No," You grit, although...

"No," She coos, "You want mean Goose to fuck you, right?"

"I'm not supposed to play with my food," She stands, "so call me once you get your head on. Probably won't be workin' by then."

She nods your head for you, careful of her knife, before pushing you to the ground. You scramble to crawl away from her, turning onto your back when you hear her crouch. She pushes her mask up with a wicked grin, still holding all the intent you'd been running from. This feels more dangerous than her knife. Something about her teeth, the way they're bared for you, sets you on edge. You think it's seeing her face, that makes this feel more real.

You recognize her. Goose. She helped jump your car when it died in town. She'd seemed so nice. She tugs a slip of paper from her back pocket and tosses it towards you.

#x reader #oc x reader #oc: goose #this barbie is going to fucking get u #kink tags #knifeplay #pred/prey dynamics #slasher!Goose #I guess?????#grrrrrrrrr I want her so fucking bad #f!oc #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #ghoul speaks #Goose you can do whatever you want forever #is she really a scare actor or is she gonna kill you idk #I don't CARE fucking slice and dice me goose

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rat-that-writes · 2 years

Text

Play-Wrestling the Egos | HCs

a/n: i finally acquired the braincell

taglist: @softladyhours @chaos-carnation

tw: 2 references to sex but theres nothing explicit

🖤Dark🖤

sometimes he cheats and uses the shadow void tendril thingies

but most of the time he likes to watch you struggle to push him off you

he lets you sometimes just to see you all proud and determined but then just squishes you again

if you get him while he’s not focused on Squashing You then you could maybe win if he’s tired

8 times out of 10 you are getting folded though

evil evil evil boy /aff

💙Damien💙

ALWAYS lets you win hes a gentleman

he loves seeing you so proud of yourself

although he does put up a bit of a fight so you’re even more proud when you do win

hes usually the one to initiate it

just tackles you into bed sometimes

one time you wrestled on the sofa downstairs and the poor butler almost had a heart attack he thought unsavoury activities were taking place

you both ran upstairs blushing and giggling

❤️Actor Mark❤️

always loses

even if he’s physically bigger and/or stronger than you he will lose every time because he doesnt know how to fight

he just pouts and tells you if he doesn’t get kisses he will die immediately

baabyyyyyyy you’re gonna mess up my hairrrrr

you could fold him like a wet towel and he couldn’t even do anything about it

sopping wet pool noodle of a man /aff

💛Illinois💛

“awww, darlin, you look so cute trying to be tough”

sometimes he lets you win because you look so cute all proud

but you also look cute all pouty when you lose

hes enjoying it immensely either way

but if you wear his hat he’ll be too distracted to win

but that involved stealing the hat first and he knows what you’re going to do if he gives you his hat

CHASE him for the hat

🤍Yancy🤍

lets you think you’re winning then BAM you’re underneath him and he is GRINNING

apologises with kisses

“i’m sorry angel i just love the squeaks you make when i flips youse over”

tell him hes mean and he will smother you in kisses

he will tackle you without warning if he’s consumed caffeine

🚀Engineer Mark🚀

its 50/50 with him

sometimes he’ll let you win and sometimes he will remind you about all those muscles underneath his space suit

“come on Captain, you can’t fight me off? you’re adorable. Maybe i’ll let you win next time.”

but if you REALLY try he will let you win because oh my god thats even cuter look at youuuuu

celci caught you two once and didnt speak to mark for 6 days she was absolutely disgusted /hj

to be fair she did also think you were indulging in unsavoury activities

🔪Murdock🔪

if you ask him if he wants to play wrestle he will chase you first

with no warning

“hey murdock wanna wrestle-“

*gets up and bolts towards you menacingly*

then when you’re too tired from running to fight back he gently holds you down and smiles so evil at you

awful bastard man /aff

but sometimes he lets you win if he’s really tired and you’re already in bed

he does little growls when he’s tired

he pretends to fall asleep once you think you’ve won then he flips you over and sleeps on you

nasty terrible boy /aff

🌌God of Night🌌

“why are you trying to fight me”

“because it’s fun!”

🧍🏻‍♂️

he doesn’t know what to do about this

you are pushing him and dragging him with all your strength but hes yknow a GOD so he’s just

🧍🏻‍♂️

eventually picks you up like a wet sponge and kisses your head

its like a “good effort” sticker

🏃🏻‍♂️Heehoo🏃🏻‍♂️

why would you even try this

he is winning the second you put your hand on him

you are getting tumbled around like sack of onion

one onion

your brain is the onion

if you let him he’d throw you up in the air like pizza pie

he makes sure to keep you from getting any bruises or injuries though

careful boy even if he is treating you like a tennis ball

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foreverrogers · 2 years

Note

james- so basically reader being extremely seductive and luring peter in to touch which we all know he would fall easily for and yeah, peter fucking reader from behind cos she asked for it. just reader being seductive and more of a dom and peter reading to do what reader asks for

filthy filthy filthy filthy filthy

cw: smut!! 18+!! minors DNI this is literally just porn!!! sub!peter but also switch!peter? r asks him to be more aggressive and he's into it, hjs <3 {1k}

james - as in... E. L. ... which means it's sexy time!!!! send me a prompt/trope and a character and I'll write you.... literally just the porn ;)

"what would you do for me, baby?"

you're looking down at him through half-lidded eyes, so close that you're breathing the same hot hair, all sweet and sticky and heavy with pleasure as it slips between open mouths. he always goes slack when you get him like this, bare and achingly hard beneath you, begging for more friction than the steady pace of your hand is giving him.

your free hand is around his jaw, keeps his face in place so he has to look you right in the eye.

"anything," he breathes, doesn't miss a beat, always one to offer himself over to you without hesitation. "fuck, if you keep touching me like that i would do fucking anything."

it makes you smile, the open desperation in his voice, the knowledge that all it ever took was your hand and a couple filthy words for him to get this needy. you kiss the corner of his mouth, trail down his jaw and scrape your teeth lightly over his pulse, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you speak. "and what about fucking me harder tonight, baby, would you do that for me?"

"like w-" the next twist of your hand makes him gasp, has you sitting firmly back against his knees to stop him from bucking up into your fist. he knew better, knew that he didn't get anything you didn't selfishly give him on nights like this.

you lean back to watch him, the slack in his jaw, the pinch of his eyebrows, that burning haze behind his eyes. the hand at his jaw slips behind him to tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, tilts his face up to you. "like flipping me over, shoving my face into the mattress, fucking me from behind until i can't think straight. want it so hard I can still feel you in the morning, baby. want you to mark me up and leave me all sore and sated. that sound good, honey? think you can do that for me?"

peter's looking at you like the words of god have just come out of your mouth, looks like he's about to get on his knees and start worshipping you. he also looks like he's about to cum, so fucking hard in your hand, every muscle in his thighs and his abdomen pulling taut.

you kiss him right as you pull away, both hands tangling through his hair, swallowing up all those pretty little whines that slip from the back of his throat at the loss of contact. "asked you a question sweetheart," you whisper, lips still brushing over his, kiss him deceptively soft for what you're asking for. and then there's that smile you give him, the one that makes him sink his fingers into the flesh of your hip, the tug of your bottom lip between your teeth as you grin.

you press closer, brush against his achingly hard cock with the light cotton of your underwear. you roll your hips a little, just so he can feel the soaked fabric gathering beneath you. it makes his breath hitch, the murmur of a "yes" you're not satisfied with.

"louder," you say, sharp as you take his jaw back in your grasp. it makes his lips pucker a little, slick and kiss-bitten. "tell me how you're gonna fuck me."

peter groans, a low moan that spreads from the base of his throat into your hand. he sounds breathless when he speaks, strained. "hard."

"show me, then."

he's fast, agile even with the ache in his lower stomach and the fog in the brain, has you picked up by the waist and flipped over onto your back in an instant.

he's between your legs, on his knees and crawling down your body, rucks up your shirt and leaves a sloppy trail of kisses down your stomach before he's kneeling.

there's the slip of the sheets beneath your as peter grabs at your thighs and drags you down the bed, the hot path he traces as he roughly pulls your panties down your legs.

all the sudden movement makes you laugh, and peter matches your surprised amusement with just the glint of a smile before he's bending your parted knees and flipping you back over.

it's an indulgence, all this manhandling, a tiny show of that spidey strength you had always begged him to use in the bedroom. he had remained adamant he didn't want to hurt you, but he also hadn't realised until tonight how much you wanted his touch to bruise.

"jesus, fuck, look at you."

you're stretching out across the bed, arms slipping up the mattress as you deepen the arch of your back and lift your ass into the air.

peter shoves his knee between your legs, makes you gasp as he spreads you open. he can see the crude glistening of your cunt in the dim light, and the sight of you all sticky and soaked for him makes him impossibly harder.

you feel the warmth of his frame slipping over your back, the press of his cock against your lower back and the snaking of his hand under your shirt to grope at your waist and your breasts. peter breathes hot against your ear. "this how you want it, baby? want me to fuck you like a filthy little slut?"

the change in his tone has already got you fluttering around nothing, makes you wiggle your ass and arch your back even further until you hear the light hiss against your ear. "yes."

"good." peter's hand at the back of your neck keeps your face pushed down, cheek flush with the mattress as he kneels back up straight. he's lining himself up with you, grasp going deliciously tight with the first contact. "'cause i'm gonna give you exactly what you want, sweetheart."

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍��𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRINGS ] Eren x f!reader, Grisha x f!reader, Zeke x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] My magnum opus /hj. Shout out to my dear friend Mica because I couldn't have written this fic without their support and guidance. And shout out to @strawberrystepmom because this fic is what brought us together lmaoooooo. [ SYNOPSIS ] Disillusioned by your current church, you find yourself drawn to a charismatic televangelist and his seemingly pious sons. [ WORD COUNT ] 14.6k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, tall-coded reader, sacrilege, incest (between Eren and Zeke), age gap (Grisha’s in his late 40s, y/n is in her 20s), masturbation, cucking, threesome, voyeurism, drugs (weed), dubcon (power imbalance, pastor x parishioner), degradation (during sex and just in general), angst, manipulation, creampie, thick Yeager dick, humiliation, y/n gets called “sister” while getting fucked but it’s in a religious sense, religious trauma, disturbing biblical imagery (violence), cigarettes (Zeke), biting, hair pulling, impact play (slapping), oral sex (m + f receiving), cum play, panty sniffing, spit play, blood (not in a sexy way), these men are strong and can manhandle/lift you with ease.

And I saw an angel standing in the sun; and he cried with a loud voice, saying to all the birds that fly in the midst of heaven…

The early vestiges of a Sunday morning didn’t inspire deep thinking or any form of reflection. It was a time to be brain dead, to indulge in the death rattle of public access television. You witnessed a zookeeper getting bit by a garter snake on a children’s program, families attending therapy while honing their dancing skills, deadly go-kart races, and a man demonstrating the superabsorbent qualities of chamois cloths.

It was welcomed. You needed to be numbed before meandering to the megachurch. Sermons were easier to suffer through if you were vaguely dissociative, your eyes glazing over as the exploiter behind the altar repeated his chicanery.

Salvation had to be earned. Consumption was godly. Wealth was bestowed to only the most pious of people. Sinners lived impoverished lives. They didn’t work hard enough. Your inability to line the pastor’s pockets proved you didn’t believe hard enough.

You weren’t sure if you called yourself a believer anymore. Church didn’t inspire you. It was just an unexciting compulsion. It signified the start of the week, the sun overtaking the hills. Nothing more, nothing less.

You don’t know what possessed you to tune in for Service For Shut-Ins that morning. Usually you knew to turn off the TV when twilight began to brew. But for whatever reason the show called out to you.

It likely had something to do with the emerald-eyed man on the television shouting, “Hey, you! Yeah, you!”

You were immediately transfixed. His chocolate brown hair was piled on top of his head in a messy bun, tendrils of hair haphazardly framing his face. His olive skin was sun kissed. He wore a crisp white button-down tucked into a pair of black straight leg trousers. His outfit was topped off with a pair of respectable, leather suspenders of a mahogany hue. He looked more like a model than a preacher.

“I think you’ve sufficiently startled the three people that are watching this,” a gruff voice muttered from behind the camera.

“Aw. Come on, brother. There’s at least five.”

The brunette smirked and flipped through a worn bible resting on the walnut wooden pulpit. The room he stood in was sparsely decorated. The walls were stark white. A blue velvet curtain hung behind him, giving everything a rather Lynchian appearance. It was the exact opposite of the flashy amphitheater you typically worshiped in.

“Do we start? Where’s dad?” The brunette asked.

“No idea. We’re live. Start without him.”

“With my luck he’ll get mad and not talk to me for two fuckin’ days.”

“Eren!” The voice hissed.

Eren shrugged and brushed his hair out of his face. He exhaled and cracked his neck, the sound echoing through the television. Just as he went to speak, a door opened and quickly slammed shut. Solid footsteps emanated from beyond the frame.

“Glad you decided to show up,” Eren joked.

“Very funny,” a rather commanding voice replied. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.”

An older man walked into frame and shooed Eren away from the pulpit. His sleek dark hair was tucked behind his ears, much longer than the hair of your usual pastor. He was dressed exactly the same as Eren, though he looked more disheveled and unshaven.

The man stared down at his bible and smiled.

“Ah, excellent choice, Eren. The Gospel of Matthew.”

You heard the man behind the camera sigh and grumble something incomprehensible under his breath. It was pungent with annoyance. You couldn’t help but laugh.

The pastor stretched and cleared his throat. He dove right into the story of Jesus and the rich man, and how the rich man questioned Christ about how one can attain eternal life. He orated the story by heart; it was riveting. At your church the pastor relied heavily on cue cards when he was compelled to quote scripture. But this pastor passionately relayed how the rich man told Christ he followed all the commandments and was curious as to what he lacked.

“‘If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”

He made direct eye contact with the camera.

“To some believers the rich man’s grief is understandable. But what Jesus witnessed was weakness in its purest form. A man too grounded in the luxuries of this world. It’s rather tragic, isn’t it? I can’t imagine having my self worth tethered to the things I own. If you know God, undeniably, you’d never cling to your possessions in the first place.

However, this is not to say the rich man is a lost cause. Everyone is capable of being saved, even the most disgusting and depraved of sinners. But as Jesus says, ‘It will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle.’”

A chorus of men chanted, “Amen.”

“You,” the pastor said, pointing at the camera and leaning over the pulpit. “I can feel your discontent.” He held his hand to his heart. “I know what it’s like to witness heresy itself. I know how it can make you question your devotion. You curse God, unsure if He is worth following. I want to tell you that He is. It’s undeniably worth living in His light. I tell you, it's not God you wrestle with. It’s the used car salesmen masquerading as your brothers, shrieking in arenas filled to the brim with lost souls. You wrestle with the demons sinking their teeth into your wallet, draining it of every dollar.” His tone grew more intense by the moment. “That is not godliness! That is chicanery! These men do not shepherd their flock with kindness in their heart! They merely want to shear and bleed the sheep, to sell their wool to the highest bidder!”

The chorus of men chanted another, “Amen,” their fervor growing. The pastor’s eyes softened and he gave a small smile.

“You don’t have to weather the storm in your soul alone.”

You were aghast, mouth agape. A tear trickled from your eye down your cheek, leaving a single, salty trail. You wiped it away with the back of your hand and sniffled. How did he know? How did he know you struggled with your faith? That you attended a megachurch run by rich freaks?

No, it was just a coincidence. But a lovely one. You were changed by the pastor's words. He was what you were missing. Him and this Eren. They saved you.

You eschewed attending your old church. Service For Shut-Ins was all you needed. You hung on Pastor Grisha’s every word. Every little thing he said filled you with unspeakable joy. He was intelligent and progressive in comparison to the sermons you used to suffer through. He was also significantly more handsome than any preacher you stumbled upon.

Your hands often found themselves in your underwear, breath hitching as he rolled up his sleeves. His toned forearms could send you spiraling into the depths of lust. Under his intense gaze as he recited scripture, you pretended he could see you delving your fingers in your dripping cunt.

Shame tended to follow after you came, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were smitten.

“I need to see him,” you exhaled.

You found the address for the church on their bare bones website. When you mapped out a route you were pleased to see the church was on the outskirts of town, secluded from the secular nonsense and false prophets.

Your nerves almost got the best of you when you saw the one room church resting near the coast. It was painted black with a white door and white windowsills. It was simple, a welcome change.

“Are you here for service?”

You turned to see a tall blonde-haired man smoking a cigarette. He adjusted his glasses and took a drag. He dressed the same as Pastor Grisha and Eren though the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of chest hair.

“Uh, yeah. I am. Am I… Am I allowed in?”

He chuckled.

“It’s a church, sister. Not a nightclub. Come on.” He tossed his cigarette to the side. “I’ll walk in with you.”

“Thank you. I won’t lie. I'm a little nervous.”

“Why?” He asked, smirking.

He looked so much like Pastor Grisha you wondered if they were related. The only difference being his flaxen, wavy hair and more muscular build.

“I have a complicated relationship with the Lord.”

“Don’t we all?”

He held open the door for you. You brushed up against his body and your breath hitched. Heat radiated off of him. You wanted to curl up next to him in the pews, have him be your security blanket until you got your sea legs.

“You can sit anywhere, but I don’t recommend sitting in the first row unless you want to get up close and personal with the fury that is Pastor Grisha.”

“Where do you sit?”

He patted your shoulder with his weighty hand.

“I don’t. I work the camera.”

So he was the mysterious voice you heard on occasion. You anxiously thanked him for his kindness before finding a comfortable seat in the middle of the pews. The only other people in the church were a handful of men all dressed the same: white button-down, black pants, leather suspenders. Not a single woman in the room. Suddenly you felt like even more of an outsider. A harlot considering you mostly came to gawk at a beautiful man of God. You nearly choked when he took to the pulpit, but to your dismay Eren was nowhere to be found.

Throughout the sermon you noticed the pastor’s gaze lingering on you. He seemed a little antsy, stumbling over his words, tugging at his collar. A sense of power washed over you. Never once had you seen him struggle to get through a sermon. It was charming.

Once the sermon was finished you quickly gathered yourself and headed towards the door. You caught the eye of the blonde camera operator. He latched onto your wrist as you tried to move past him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, smirking.

“I was gonna go,” you conceded. “I don’t wanna be a bother, y’know?”

“You’d hardly be a bother if you stuck around.”

His tone was flirtatious.

“I—I, uh, okay,” you stammered. “I can stick around.”

His hand snaked around your waist and he started to lead you out the door. You didn’t know what was happening, but you were pleased Zeke took the initiative to take you under his wing. He was a good Christian.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Ze—”

Before he could finish, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around to see Pastor Grisha smiling warmly at you.

“Zeke, I hope you're not scaring this young woman away.”

“Oh no. You caught me,” Zeke said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Zeke let go of you and trudged off, mumbling expletives under his breath.

“He wasn’t scaring me off,” you assured the pastor.

“I’m just giving him a hard time,” he chuckled. “Though he’s not exactly the most welcoming boy around. At least not in a traditional sense.”

“He was very nice. He calmed my nerves a bit,” you said, nervously scratching the back on your scalp. “It’s my first time here.”

“I’m well aware. You’re hard to miss. What’s your name, sister?”

You told him your name and thought it was funny he bothered to tell you his, considering you knew it so well. It was a name that often fell from your lips late at night when you’d let your lusty mind wander. When he shook your hand you tried to memorize how his skin felt against yours. You didn’t know when you would be blessed with such an opportunity again.

“A lovely name for a lovely girl,” he said, squeezing your hand.

You were awestruck and ready to sign your life away to him. No one ever told you were lovely.

“Are you in a hurry?” He asked.

You shook your head.

“Would you be interested in coming to the parsonage for tea? I like to get to know my new congregants lest they not be true believers,” he said with a sharp tongue.

Your eyes widened, terrified that you might not be considered a true believer.

“I’m only kidding, lamb. Come, let’s go.”

You followed him out the door. He directed you towards a little house closer to the cliff overlooking the coast. The architecture was similar to that of the church, but it had two stories and larger windows. The pastor led you inside and you marveled at the foyer. The walls were paneled with wide, oak slats.

“How do you take your tea?” He asked warmly.

You pinched your thigh, dying to know if you were dreaming or not. Luckily you weren’t; you were very much grounded in reality. You told the pastor how you took your tea.

“My office is down the hall, first door on the left. I’ll meet you there.”

You followed his instructions, eager to show him you were an obedient parishioner. As you made your way down the hall you noticed a door cracked open. You peeked inside and saw Eren sitting on his bed, back against the wall, fiddling with something in his lap. Your skin grew hot and you wondered if he was jerking off. You hated yourself for watching, but your curious nature overpowered you.

“Aw shit,” Eren muttered. “I just ground that up.”

He got up, moving a little plate that was resting discreetly in his lap. You sighed. He was just rolling a joint.

“I said it was the first door on the left, lamb.”

You spun around and saw Pastor Grisha holding two cups of tea.

“I… I… don’t know my right from my left.”

You gritted your teeth. It was one of your shittier lies.

“It’s alright. Come, come.”

You followed him into his office and took a seat across from him. His desk was large and made out of the same wood as the paneling on the walls. You dragged your finger across the top of it. It was smooth, not even a hint of splintering.

“Did you make this?”

“I’m flattered you think I’m that handy, but no. My son did. He tends to do most of the building and upkeep around here.”

“Wow. He operates the camera and does the maintenance?”

The pastor stifled a laugh. “No, my other son. Eren.”

You took a sip of your tea. It was exactly how you liked it.

“So, what brought you here?”

“My feet. I’m kidding, uh.”

He smiled.

“I’ve been watching you guys on channel 5 for a few months. I figured it was about time I came to see you in person.”

His eyes narrowed. “To see me?”

“I mean like, you know.” You paused, your nerves getting the better of you. “I wanted to experience this in person. Your sermons.”

You felt like he was staring through you. Like he knew every lurid thought your brain dreamt up.

“I see.”

“I got sick of the church I used to go to,” you admitted.

“And which one was that?”

“Hope Springs Eternal Ministries. It’s the one tha—”

The pastor slammed his cup of tea back on the saucer.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

“There is no need to apologize. It’s not your fault you attended the most heretical church in town.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad there.”

“Tell me, lamb.” He leaned over his desk. “Were you happy?”

“Obviously not,” you scoffed.

“What didn’t you like?”

“Too focused on money and I never have any to spare,” you explained, taking another sip of tea. “Hard to stay a believer when your salvation is tethered to how much money you can throw at someone.”

“You poor thing. It’s a tragedy you and all those other cretins are cursed to attend such a disgusting testament to God.”

“Wow. Cretins, huh?”

He blushed. “I suppose it’s my turn to apologize. It’s not their fault they’re so small minded.”

The pastor’s pretentiousness sullied your deification of him. Granted it was your fault for putting a man on a pedestal in the first place.

“Am I small minded, Pastor Grisha?”

He rubbed his foot against your shin. You swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure, lamb. Have you cut ties with your old church?”

“I haven’t been there in a few months.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

You held his gaze and tried to ignore his foot rubbing up and down the length of your leg. Silence flooded the room.

“Yes,” you finally spat out. “I don’t associate with anyone from there. Not a single person.”

He leaned over his desk and beckoned you to come closer. You leaned in and your palms started to sweat. He smelled like cedar and juniper berries. Part of you wanted to kiss him, but you refrained. He cupped your face with his right hand and ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if you were turned on or on the verge of an anxiety attack.

“Poor thing. Tell me, are you lonely?”

You hesitated to answer. You were in fact painfully lonely, especially now that you rejected everyone at Hope Springs Eternal. Grisha’s stare was so intense you could have sworn he could read your mind. Just as you went to speak the door abruptly opened. Zeke walked through carrying a bunch of camera equipment. A lit cigarette hung precariously from his mouth.

“You have to tell Hannes not to show up drunk anymore. I spent ten minutes trying to clear him out—Oh, it’s you,” he said, setting the equipment on a plush couch on the other side of the room.

The pastor dropped his hand and leaned back in his chair.

“If I tell him that he’ll never show up again,” he rued. “I hate to think about the trouble he’d get into.”

You were frozen in place, struggling to see how the pastor could be so calm after Zeke saw you on the verge of sucking his thumb.

“Zeke?” He asked. “Are you listening?”

Zeke glared at you, his grey eyes colder than an overcast day in January.

“I heard you, father,” he hissed as he exited the office, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“I oughta go. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Will you be joining us next Sunday?”

“I think so.”

You wanted to bolt for the door but remained seated. The pastor seemed to have some sort of magnetic pull on you. Getting up was out of the question until he said you could.

“I’d prefer it if you knew. Why don’t you give me your phone number so we make sure you remember to show up.”

You gulped. “Alright.”

You scribbled your number down on a sticky note and grimaced. It was a tragic attempt at a smile, but your nerves tainted it.

“I look forward to seeing you again, lamb.”

“That’s if I come back,” you laughed.

His lips became a flat line.

“You will. I’m sure of it.”

The sentence reeked of ominousness. You excused yourself and slid out the door without a word. You feared that if you opened your mouth you’d just scream. When you entered the foyer you saw a very disgruntled Zeke and a sympathetic Eren. They glanced over at you. Eren’s demeanor changed, becoming vaguely welcoming. Whereas Zeke ignored your presence.

“Bye,” you said quietly.

Eren waved and resumed comforting Zeke. Shame came over you. You assumed you were the reason Zeke looked so bothered. Though your obsession remained, you had no intention of returning.

Your phone rang at 2 am, the chime blistering your ears. You didn’t recognize the number and opted not to answer. Just as you were about to fall back asleep, your phone rang again. You declined the call and turned your phone on silent. It didn’t take long for the screen to light up; the mysterious number demanded your attention.

“What?! What is it?!”

“Sorry to bother you. I do realize I’m calling rather late.”

It was Pastor Grisha, his voice clear as day. Not a hint of sleepiness to it.

“Oh fuck, I mean, damn. Dang! Uh, what is it?” You stammered.

“I just wanted to talk to you; that’s all.”

You swallowed hard.

“About?”

“Whatever you’d like.”

You furrowed your brow. Grisha’s actions felt odd and lacking goodwill.

“I don’t have anything to say. I’m pretty tired.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just speak,” he said, his tone finally revealing some hint of urgency.

You paused and tried to think of something to say. You looked out the window at the frost coating the grass.

“It’s been cold lately. I don’t know about you but I’m not used to it. Do you remember it being… this cold?”

You heard rustling on the other end of the phone.

His answer was a clipped, “No.”

“See I’ve seen people try to say it’s always been this way.”

“Ha—have you?” He sputtered.

“Yeah. Uh, like on the news. I feel like they downplay it on purpose.”

“Uh-huh.”

The pastor's breathing grew heavier and you heard him spit in his hand. You clenched your fists and tried to think of harmless things he could be doing. Maybe he had something stuck in his teeth and spit it into the sink.

“It’s gotta be an environmental thing.”

“Climate change,” he choked out.

“You know one of the reasons I started hating Hope Springs Eternal was the pastor not believing in ‘global warming.’ Shows how much he knows, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m, uh, assuming you believe in it.”

“Yes,” he moaned. “It beckons the eschaton.”

You paused, trying to collect your thoughts and ignore what was happening on the other end of the phone.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“It’s just… That’s a rather disconcerting thought, pastor.”

“Call me Grisha.”

“Okay… Grisha.”

You could hear his hand sliding up and down his cock. You paced around your room. You knew you should have hung up, that this was wrong. But the inappropriateness drew you in. You felt powerful knowing you managed to break down Grisha’s defenses and make him behave like a pitiful sinner.

“Are you close?” You asked.

“Y—yes,” he responded, the words stumbling out of his mouth.

“I hope you realize how loathsome this is.”

You heard a low groan followed by panting, and hung up. You were ashamed of the wet spot in your underwear. You thumbed through your drawer for a fresh pair, slipping them on before crawling back into bed. You lied awake, staring at the ceiling, and tried to make sense of what happened. Masturbating crossed your mind, but it would’ve been unholy. You opted to close your eyes and pray that morning came quickly.

You initially had no intention to return to the little church on the coast, but it wasn’t as if you had anything better to do. As you crested the hill you saw Zeke standing by the cliff, staring out into the ocean. The back of his shirt was speckled with red stains. A cloud of cigarette smoke lingered around him caught in the cold, morning air.

You walked towards him, your hands shoved in your pockets.

“Hi,” you said.

He perked up and side-eyed you.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say good morning.”

“Well, you said it.”

He tossed his cigarette off the cliff and headed towards the church. You trailed after, embarrassed that you reached out to him. Entering the church you were pleasantly surprised to see Eren sitting in the pews. You grabbed a seat in the same row as him but kept your distance.

“C’mere. No need to sit so far away, sister.”

You scooched over to him. He was much more personable than his brother or his father.

“Sister? Wow. So formal.”

He blushed.

“Sorry. It’s a habit I can’t break for the life of me.”

“It’s fine… brother.”

He snickered. “You know for the longest time I used to say it like Hulk Hogan.”

“You mean like, ‘Bruhthurrrrr!’” You mimicked.

“Ha! Exactly.”

“What was your favorite verse? Austin 3:16?”

“You know it,” he said cheekily.

Service began and Grisha spent the majority of the time comparing various atrocities to the Book of Revelation. It was more militant than his previous sermons. Never before had he ever dropped a reference to a “holy war”, but today that seemed to be the running theme.

To say it made you uncomfortable would be the least. But still you found yourself hanging on his every word. You pictured yourself charging through a broken landscape. Flames ripping through cracks in the earth. Locusts fluttering about. The stench of carnage filling your nose. A hideous, rotted beast rising from a bottomless pit. The bodies of sinners heaped high into the heavens; those still cursed with life gnawing on their tongues in agony. It was horrific, but you felt pride. If you lived a virtuous enough life you could fight in God’s army and live in His light eternally.

You were ripped away from your nightmarish fantasy when Eren’s sweet voice blessed your ears.

“Was the sermon that boring?”

“What? No, I was just thinking about it.”

“It’s all good. Trust me, I zone out the second my dad starts talking.”

You wished that was what you had done. You missed the mindlessness you could indulge in on Sundays. Ever since you started attending service you were hypervigilant, bordering on too aware. You stretched your arms over your head and stood up, hoping it would quiet your disturbing thoughts.

“Shit. I should’ve introduced myself earlier. But, uh, my name’s Eren.”

“I know,” you laughed, and then told him yours.

“Now that’s a pretty name.”

Your face grew warm upon hearing his compliment. “Well, I’m off,” you said cheerfully.

“It was nice talking to you. Happy to be around a normal person for once.

You giggled. If only you were a normal person. You bid Eren farewell and headed towards the door. Just as you were about to step outside the threshold of the church, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Grisha.

“Where are you off to, lamb?”

“Home.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Why?”

“I was hoping you’d come back to the parsonage so I could properly apologize for my… indiscretion.”

You had tried so hard to forget about him jerking off while talking on the phone with you, how he punctured you with the sword of his mouth. You knew you should’ve declined his invitation and set a boundary between the two of you. But you were smitten despite how much the pastor unsettled you.

“Okay,” you relented.

Once in his office he collapsed onto the couch, resting the back of his hand on his forehead.

“So,” you began. “Are you going to apologize?”

“I think you should be the one apologizing to me.”

“What? But you said—”

“I’m well aware of what I said.” He fixed his gaze on you. “However, you tempted me to share in your plagues.”

“I didn’t do shit. You’re the one that called me up.”

“You didn’t have to answer.”

“You called me three times!”

He exhaled deeply.

“I suppose I am partially to blame.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! You’re fully to blame,” you seethed.

“Why are you being so hostile? Come, sit beside me.”

For whatever reason you did as you were told. You sat next to him and stared at your shoes like a child about to be reprimanded.

“I feel as though you solely exist to tempt me, like some sort of divine punishment. Tell me, lamb, are you clothed with the sun or are you a whore that sits on many waters?”

“I don’t know…” You thought about the lewd thoughts that often plagued your mind. “I guess the latter.”

“I see,” he said, placing his hand on your thigh. “I can save you, if you let me.”

“And how exactly would you do that?” You asked, glancing down at the bulge growing in his pants.

He squeezed your thigh and turned to face you. His eyes were dark with ardor. He only ever looked this passionate when he was preaching.

“I’d rather show than tell, lamb.”

He started to unzip his pants, revealing his hard cock. You turned away and stared at the wall. He latched onto your wrist and placed your hand on it. You prayed for God to stop your underwear from getting soaked.

“Are you afraid?” He asked.

“No. But this… isn’t right.”

“You have nothing to fear. I’m your savior. You should trust me.”

You faced him. He didn’t look untrustworthy. What would he gain from pulling the wool over your eyes? You needed to be saved. You were lucky this man had decided you were worth his time. You squeezed his cock, watching his reaction. He blushed.

“There’s no reason to be shy,” he cooed.

He repositioned himself so he was lying on his back, pulling you on top of him. He lifted up your dress and pulled your underwear off, throwing them to the side. You had taken to wearing prairie dresses with high necklines and white ruffled collars to fit in amongst the congregants. Oddly enough this made the men pay more attention to you, notably Grisha.

He guided his cock inside you. Your breath hitched as it stretched out your tight cunt. It had been years since anyone had fucked you. You gritted your teeth and breathed heavily through your nose.

“Am I hurting you?” He groaned while thrusting into you.

“Yes!” You yelped.

He placed his hands under your ass, lifting you up, leaving only the tip inside. You braced yourself by putting your hands on his tense shoulders. He peered up at you and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he grunted.

He pulled your body closer, keeping it flush to his, and started to ease his cock back inside you. You held his face in your hands and kissed him. Your lips overlapped his in a desperate attempt at intimacy. You wanted him to feel your passion and love, that you weren’t some trollop that waltzed in to simply whore herself out.

He slowly pushed his cock deeper into you, his hips rocking ever so slightly. You whined through the kiss before breaking it.

“Fuck. It’s too much,” you whined. “Can you get on top?”

He was more than happy to oblige, lifting you up and resting you on your back while his cock continued to throb inside you.

“How’s that?” He asked breathily.

“Much better,” you moaned.

He smiled and lifted your dress up higher. He pushed down the cups of your bra and groped your breasts.

“Harder,” you mewled.

He pinched one of your pert nipples, letting out a tiny laugh as you squealed. You grabbed ahold of his ass, driving his cock deeper into you. A few tears fell from your eyes as he bottomed out, his cock ramming into your cervix. You bit down on your bottom lip and tried to hold back an agonized moan. But the ache invading your body needed to be heard.

Grisha’s thrusts grew more erratic and his groans became louder. He had been starved of intimacy for so long. His desperate hymn radiated through your body. You found yourself being overcome by ecstasy. It was as if God was shining His holy light down on you. It took everything out of you to start babbling the Lord’s Prayer.

You happened to glance out the window and saw Zeke standing outside, partially obscured by a Monterey cypress. You knitted your brow and swallowed hard, nearly choking on your spit.

“Wh—what is it? Am I still hurting you?” He asked, thrusting away, his eyes now shut as rapture consumed him.

You squinted as if it would give you a better look at Zeke.

“It’s nothing. Keep going.”

You hugged him closer as his cock leaked precum inside you. You prayed Zeke couldn’t see anything. But alas you were wrong. Zeke had adjusted his position, revealing that he was fucking his fist. His pants hung around his ankles. It made you nauseous and you felt as if your entire body went cold, like your blood turned to ice.

“I—I’m going to wash away your sins with my seed.”

You felt disgusted by everything: Zeke masturbating to the sight of his father fucking you, Grisha’s ostentatious assumption his cum was a sacrament, the fact you still found yourself reeling from the rapturious pleasure of Grisha’s cock slamming into your cervix. He dropped one of his hands and rubbed your clit, leaving you a quivering mess.

You wanted to hold back, to have him come inside you and walk out of his office with some form of dignity. But it was impossible. Your unstoppable moans flooded the room.

“That’s it, lamb. Let it all go,” he grunted as he came, fucking his cum into your cunt.

Once he was finished he got up and tucked his cock back into his pants. You were rendered immoveable, body glued to the couch.

“It’s time for you to go,” he said solemnly, zipping and buttoning his pants.

You wordlessly tucked your breasts back into your bra and pulled your dress down. You scurried out of his office, passing Eren on your way out.

“Oh shit! Hey!”

“I’m leaving,” you mumbled, not actually hearing what he said.

“What?” He asked, his eyes filling with concern.

“I have to go!” You cried out while speed walking away from the parsonage.

You quickly glanced over your shoulder and saw him chasing after you, his long hair flowing in the wind.

“Wait up, sister,” he shouted.

“Leave me alone! Just… please. Don’t. I—I just wanna go home,” you said, having regained some level of composure.

You stopped; your feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. You felt Grisha’s come seep out of your cunt, dripping down the inside of your thigh.

“Did something happen to you?” He asked.

You shivered.

“No. No. No,” you repeated mindlessly.

He narrowed his eyes, his stare fixated on the rumpled state of your dress.

“Who was it?” He asked.

“No one. It was nothing,” you mumbled as your legs finally found it in them to move.

“Are you going to get home okay? I can drive you back to town.”

“Stop! I don’t even know you. I think I can manage on my own.”

Part of you wanted to collapse in his arms and weep, but you were sick of relying on these men for comfort, for a smidgen of solace. Eren didn’t seem to pick up on your distaste. He took a few more steps towards you before stopping.

“Tell me, sister. Was it my dad?”

“Didn’t I say it was no one?” You seethed, clenching your jaw.

You didn’t return to church the following Sunday or the Sunday after that even though Grisha incessantly called you. Instead you watched a live feed of the service at Hope Springs Eternal. You were able to lose yourself in the pompous extravagance. It wasn’t particularly pleasant. The sermon was the typical “poor people are poor because they don’t love God enough.” But it was nice to not hear rants about fighting in God’s army. Plus you thoroughly enjoyed roasting your old church.

“Idiots,” you muttered, shoving your hand in a box of cereal. “That guy doesn’t love God enough because his toupee isn’t on straight.”

You laughed with a mouthful of cereal and nearly choked on your giggle fit.

However you grimaced when the pastor brought out a rattlesnake. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he spoke in tongues.

“What is this? Fear Factor?”

Suddenly the crowd erupted into a shrieking mass of glossolalia, throwing themselves at the ground, as the pastor held the snake above his head. You were shocked to see the church had become such a spectacle while you were gone.

“Well that’s unsettling,” you said, turning off your television. “I hope the snake is okay.”

Pastor Grisha’s sermons suddenly seemed reasonable in comparison to whatever the fuck it was you’d just witnessed. You stared at your phone and picked it up. It felt like a stone in your hand. You called Grisha, hoping he wouldn’t answer.

Much to your disappointment he picked up on the first ring.

“Hi,” you said solemnly.

“My precious lamb, have you decided to come crawling back?”

You clenched your fists, your fingernails leaving valleys in your palm.

“Do you guys speak in tongues and handle snakes?”

“I run a church. Not a sideshow.”

“I take that as a no then.”

“That’s all ceremonial grandeur. It’s not of God.”

“Isn’t it in The Bible?”

“Much of The Bible is not to be taken literally.”

“Fair enough…”

“Why do you ask?”

You sighed. “Hope Springs Eternal livesteams their servi—”

“Heretical bastards!”

“Don—Don’t you broadcast your sermons on television? How is that any different?”

“Because I’m right goddammit! Even if I wanted to stop, I couldn't! It’s God’s will! How am I supposed to deny his desires?!”

“I—”

“What I do… What I do is necessary. It’s my duty. Only I can lead us on the virtuous path.”

“What about your sons?”

“Zeke’s more than capable, but he let his brain get eaten away by lust.”

“What about Eren?”

“He’s charming, but a lost cause. Noncommittal. He’s not a firm believer.” He exhaled. “It has to be me. There’s no other option.”

He sounded almost wistful, like he was being forced to do these things against his own will.

“It is how things are and have to be,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t exactly interested in this, but when God calls you don’t bury your head in the sand.”

“I guess. But you could stop. You know that, right? It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Who am I to question the Hand of God, lamb? I’m a mere man. If He isn’t guiding me, I’ll stray. It’s—It’s hard… for me. You’d know that better than anyone.”

You held your breath. You were used to a level of opaqueness he operated under. To hear Grisha express doubt in the Lord bothered you. He was supposed to be different, to be stronger than the average pastor. One that was steadfast in his beliefs.

“I’ve missed seeing you,” he sighed.

“I doubt that.”

“It’s true. I need you. I’m lost without you.”

“I thought I was a temptress, a whore sitting on many waters or whatever.”

“Hush, lamb. Promise me you’ll come back next Sunday,” he pleaded.

“I’ll think about it,” you hissed before hanging up.

You were pissed Grisha’s plea managed to convince you. You showed up at the church the next Sunday dressed in a plain black prairie dress, something that wouldn’t make you stand out amongst the plain clothed men. You took your seat in the pews and didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

A familiar voice coming from behind you. “Hi!”

“Hey, Eren,” you said, a small smile crossing your face.

“It’s nice to see you, sister. I was worried about you.”

“I’m alright. No reason to be concerned.”

You wanted to placate him, but your tone was too clipped. It was like you were brandishing a knife after every word. Eren’s green eyes were tinged with worry, but he grinned and took a seat beside you. Service began as it usually did, but you noticed Zeke and the camera equipment were nowhere to be found.

“Are you guys not filming anymore?” You asked in a hushed tone.

“Hm? Oh, not today.”

You raised an eyebrow and decided not to think about it.

Grisha’s sermon ended up being much more benign. There was little talk of violence and not a single reference to God’s wrath. As he preached you zoned out.

“Am I boring you, sister?” Grisha asked pointedly.

You perked up and shook your head. He glared at you briefly before resuming the sermon. Nothing weird was happening, but there was an oddness in the air, like something unseen to only you was brewing. Even Eren started to look a little antsy.

“Who here needs to be healed?” Grisha suddenly asked.

You turned to Eren, but his eyes were fixated on the floor. Your body went cold. No one was speaking. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you. You sunk down into the pew, hoping people would forget you were even there. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Sister,” Grisha suddenly said.

You weren’t used to him addressing you in a formal way.

“Yes,” you said cheerfully. You wanted to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes. Maybe if you were pleasant, the mood in the church would change.

“Do you need to be healed?”

“Nope. I, uh, I think I’m good.”

“Who here thinks our sister needs to be healed?”

The men all raised their hands at once. You were aghast to see Eren slowly raising his hand, eyes still focused on the floor in front of him.

“Seriously?” You asked in a hushed voice.

He gave you nothing in response.

“I think we’ve come to a consensus,” Grisha said, leaving the pulpit. “Let’s gather around our sister.”

Everytime he said “sister” you felt like you swallowed a razor blade. You hated hearing it, but speaking up was thankless. It wouldn’t do anything. You were outnumbered. The men gathered around you, all with rather blank looks on their faces. Their eyes were flat and shark-like.

“You guys can’t be serious.”

One of the men placed their hand on your shoulder. The others followed suit and placed their hands on your shoulders, back, and the top of your head. You directed a pleading stare towards Eren.

“It’s fine. They’re not gonna hurt you,” he muttered.

You wanted to attack him like a wild animal, rip into his skin and pluck out his pretty, green eyes. You barely knew him, but somehow this was the ultimate betrayal.

“Fucker,” you said under your breath.

You breathed deeply to calm yourself. It was true. The men weren’t hurting you, at least on a physical level. The church was silent other than your labored breathing and the offshore winds occasionally rattling the windows.

“Do you have anything you’d like to repent for?” Grisha asked.

You flared your nostrils. “No.”

“Are you sure?” A drunk parishioner slurred.

You refused to answer.

“Are you sure?” Grisha repeated.

“Yes,” you answered in your most authoritative tone.

“You made eyes at me during service,” one of the men said. “You gave me a look.”

“What? I don’t even know you.”

“I saw you do it,” another one said.

Another tightened his grip on your shoulder.

“We all saw,” he rumbled.

The door of the church flung open. For a brief moment relief came over you.

“Sorry I’m late—Oh, so we are doing this,” Zeke said, fastening the last few buttons on his shirt.

“You’re just in time,” Grisha said cheerfully.

“Is this really necessary?” Zeke asked, surveying the situation.

“Do you doubt me?” Grisha asked.

Zeke nervously scratched behind his ear. “No.”

He took a seat on the floor near the door and stared at his feet much like Eren did. You wanted to scream, but you were frozen by God’s apparent will. The men continued their chorus of “I saw you” and proceeded to accuse you of other minor offenses you never committed. Every so often you denied the accusations, but after a while your mind began to slip. Had you given a lusty stare to someone? You couldn’t be sure anymore.

“I did it,” you finally said dejectedly. “All of it.”

The men removed their hands and went back to their seats. Grisha sighed and returned to the pulpit.

“Don’t you feel better now? Don’t you feel cleansed?”

You mindlessly nodded.

“Did you finally let the Lord into your hideous heart?”

Again, you nodded. The service ended with little fanfare and everyone left quickly. You found yourself tethered to your seat, unable to move lest you be accused of heresy. Eren remained as well.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No. You’re not… But it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“Well then why didn’t you help me? You were right there.”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it because I deserve it? Am I that bad?”

“No.”

“Then why did they do that to me?!” You shouted.

“I don’t kn—”

“You don’t seem to know anything, brother.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean shit!” Tears welled up in your eyes and your throat burned from yelling after being so quiet. “I… Fuck!”

You kicked the pew in front of you. You didn’t know what to do. Eren probably was sorry. He probably didn’t have much pull over Grisha. What could he have done? You knew you were innocent; none of those sins were yours. The parishioners hadn’t even brought up your daliences with Grisha. Though it’s not like they’d have any information that would make the pastor look bad.

“I don’t think this will make you feel any better. But it’s happened to me a lot. I know how it feels.”

He scooched closer to you and cleared his throat.

“My relationship with God is complicated. It has been since my mom died.”

“That doesn’t make me feel sorry for you,” you hissed. “Everyone has a complicated relationship with God.”

He kept talking. “It usually goes longer. The last time it happened to me it was two hours of getting told I was useless. A drug addict. One guy even called me the Antichrist which made my dad stop everything. He ended up punching him.”

“That’s horrible.”

“It sounds worse than it actually is, sister.”

You couldn’t imagine suffering through an hour consumed by hands laying upon you. You were angry Eren downplayed it, trying to act like it wasn’t all that bad. It was a horrific experience. Not one you’d ever want to return to. You stood up and walked away. You didn’t bother saying goodbye to Eren. He was too lost in his own mind.

Once outside you saw Zeke standing near the edge of the cliff smoking as usual. You made your way over to him. The sunlight danced behind low hanging clouds, occasionally illuminating him in a heavenly way. Instead of the usual scowl, he gave a solemn, “Hello.”

You hated how much he looked like his father. It made you want to be mean to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a drag off his cigarette.

“I guess. I don’t know. I can’t tell yet.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s the worst part. Don’t worry,” he said, stretching his arms. “You’ll realize how awful it was when you’re trying to sleep tonight.”

You were already plotting how to induce insomnia. Zeke placed his hand on your shoulder. You were too exhausted to flinch. He took a few steps closer until you were finally in his arms, your face buried in his neck. He rubbed your back and you proceeded to sob. You felt silly for breaking down in a stranger’s arms, but Zeke was there. He was tangible, something you could hold onto.

His hands trailed down your back, resting them on your ass.

“Need a distraction?” His breath was hot against your ear.

You sniffled. You could feel his semi-hard cock through his pants.

“I guess. I—I have no idea how you could help me though,” you muttered dejectedly.

“Trust me, sister. I have plenty of ideas.”

He tightened his grip on your ass and rubbed his erection against you. You stared out over his shoulder at gentle waves licking the shore. You wanted to lose yourself in his broad-shouldered embrace.

“You can do whatever you want,” you mewled.

He let go of your ass and held onto your face by the jaw. His fingers were calloused, but the roughness of his touch was spirituous. He forced his leg between your thighs. He had a sick grin on his face. You tried to ignore it as you rubbed up against his leg. Instead you focused on how good his body felt on your clit. You dragged your throbbing cunt up and down his thigh, your breath hitching when the friction became too much.

He forced you to look him in the eyes as you pleasured yourself against him. You wanted to find kindness in his gaze but there was none, just lust. You started to unbutton his shirt while he hurriedly unzipped his pants. You kissed him, biting down on his bottom lip. He groaned and pulled away.

“No biting,” he chastised.

You frowned and lied down in the grass. You hiked up your dress, revealing your glistening folds. Zeke got on top of you, stroking his cock. It was girthy like his father’s, but more veiny and it lacked any sort of curve. You guided it inside you, watching Zeke’s reaction as he was greeted by your tight cunt. He looked so lecherous, so hungry for you.

“Oh God,” you moaned.

Zeke slowly thrusted; his cock filled your cunt. He stared down at you, eyes partially obscured by his glasses.

“How does that feel, sister?”

“Like heaven.”

“Ca—can I hit you?”

The idea of his hand gracing your face thrilled you to no end. You welcomed any sensation that would make you forget the numerous hands that had previously invaded your body.

“Please.”

His hand was swift across your face, leaving a stinging pain in its wake.

“Again,” you pleaded, stroking his cheek.

He was more than happy to oblige. He thrusted his cock deeper inside you and slapped you again. You pulled him into a kiss, pushing your tongue past his teeth. His tongue tasted of tobacco. The woody, sour taste overtook your mouth.

His hands roaming your body was a blessing. His touch healed the wounds left behind the parishioners. You never wanted to let him go. Your fingers were tangled in his soft, flaxen hair. You twirled a lock in between your fingers and tugged on it. He let out a muted yelp you soon swallowed. He broke the kiss, panting as he bottomed out. Your body writhed underneath his, swimming in the shadow of this saint.

“How does it feel, sister?” He asked, holding you down.

“Good,” you gasped.

He grabbed ahold of your jaw again, his grey eyes tunneling holes through yours. You wanted to live in his light, until your body rotted away into dust. You tightened your walls around him. He groaned, his hips bucking against your limp body. You were putty in his hands.

You slid his suspenders off and yanked down his pants. You held onto his plush ass, pulling him towards you so his cock kissed your cervix. His hips seemed to skip a beat as his cock leaked precum inside your cunt. A needy moan fell from his lips and he shut his eyes.

“Can I come inside you?” He quickly asked.

You eagerly nodded. He let out a few desperate whimpers as he drove his cock in you, your fluids intermingling. He was panting harder, his cheeks now a pretty pink. He bucked his hips as his cock shot cum into the depths of your cunt.

“Do you like that, sister?” He asked, fucking you harder.

“Yes,” you squealed.

Once he finished he slid his cock out of you and lowered himself down to your cunt. He lapped at the cum seeping out of it, tongue flicking your clit.

“Say my name when you come,” he ordered.

You dug your fingers into the grass as your body quivered. Zeke ran his hands up and down your legs as he sucked his cum out of you, the lurid noise harmonizing with the waves.

“Zeke,” you mewled as you saw white.

You felt like you were ascending as your body squirmed against his face, his beard tickling the inside of your thighs. You were too lost in your orgasm to hear the footsteps stomping through the grass. Zeke looked up at you, smiling. He rested his head on your thigh and sighed dreamily.

“Are you interested in doing anything else, sister?”

You ignored his question and posed your own. “Why were you jerking off while I was fucking your father?”

His gaze hardened.

“It’s not as if I was looking at him.” He kissed your thigh and took on a kinder tone. “It’s not our fault none of us know how to behave around women… It doesn’t help that we all have a sick crush on you.”

“How are you gonna solve that problem, huh?”

“I did talk to you first. If you belong to any of us, it’s me.”

“I don’t belong to any of you,” you said, unable to hide your disgust.

“Don’t you want to be mine?”

You rustled his hair. He was cute in a tragic sense. It was strange to see such a domineering man rendered down to an endearing puddle of goo. You alternated between wanting to toss him off the cliff, and marrying him.

You were ripped from your peace by the sound of rustling grass growing closer and closer. Zeke glanced up and his face fell. You craned your head back and saw Grisha standing there, clutching his worn down bible to his chest.

“How could you?” Grisha lamented; his question directed at you.

Zeke sat up and pulled your dress back down.

“Are you jealous?” He taunted.

Grisha glared at his son. Although Zeke’s expression was haughty, it had a tinge of uneasiness. It was warranted. The pastor launched his bible at his son, hitting him square in the nose. Blood seeped from it, staining his white shirt red.

“You’re going to hell for that,” Zeke said, covering his nose with his hand.

“Well I’ll see you there, you disgraceful whoremonger!”

You frowned at the notion of you being a whore. It was an accusation you never got used to. You weren’t chaste by any means, but this was the most action you had in awhile.

“Did you not lie with her too?” Zeke asked, standing up and stepping over you to get closer to his father. “I saw you. I bore witness.”

Grisha blushed, clearly horrified by this revelation. “I—I was saving her!”

“You have a really funny way of saving people then.”

You grew tired of their bickering. You found your underwear hiding amongst the cat grass and slipped them on. You bounded off to the path that led down to the beach. Neither of the men noticed you left.

The wind had calmed down, making the journey less precarious. You kicked off your shoes and dug your toes into the sand. Such a simple thing and yet it was the best you felt in years. You walked closer towards the ocean, digging your feet deeper into the sand with every step. Once the water licked your heels you swam out, submerging yourself in a mellow wave. You held your breath as it washed over you. You dove deeper as the currents pulled you further from the shore.

Salt water weaseled its way into your eyes, killing any sense of comfort you found in the lull of the waves. You let your body float to the surface. Resting on your back, you stared up at the overcast sky. You looked like a pathetic version of Ophelia, madness driving you out into the sea. It was hard to be serene while coughing. The salt burned your throat and left your tongue numb.

You were decidedly less glamorous than any Millais painting. But that didn’t matter. You couldn’t care less about how you appeared. Maybe this was pathetic. Maybe you were wading in madness. But was that a bad thing? You’d be in good company. Even Jesus’s family and followers thought he was insane on occasion, possessed by demons, riddled with paranoia. And yet he was a paragon of holiness, of a just life.

The sun peeked out from behind the low-hanging clouds, a little beam of sunlight bled through. The first you’d seen in awhile. It looked like glitter ebbing along with the waves.

“Nice,” you whispered.

Your phone rang constantly. You thought about blocking Grisha's number, but you wanted to hear the desperation in his voice and if he still thought he could save you. Much to your disappointment he never left a single voicemail.

Nothing seemed to completely sever the attachment you had to them. You thought about Zeke fucking you in a field constantly, though on occasion you imagined he was Eren. You found yourself missing the brunette. He was always nice to you. His only major misstep being that he didn’t help you when you were assaulted.

Twinges of resentment remained a plague. You knew Eren was just as much a victim as you. But there remained a pervasive sense of betrayal. It was such a strong feeling for someone you barely knew.

There was some relief knowing they were no closer to God than you.

Eventually one early Sunday morning, your curiosity got the better of you and you answered when Grisha called you for the umpteenth time. You reclined on your couch, watching Hope Springs Eternal’s live stream with the volume turned down.

“Did you call to jerk off to the sound of my voice?” You asked haughtily.

“What? No, sister. I’m not a pig.”

You were surprised to hear Eren’s voice.

“Oh… Hey? Why are you calling from your father’s phone?”

“Psh. My dad wishes he had his own phone. We all share the one in his office.”

“Okay. Uh, what’s up? Did something happen?”

He sighed. “No. I just miss talking to you.”

“I’m sure there are other parishioners to talk to.”

Eren paused. “Actually there aren’t any. My dad stopped opening up service to the public and kicked everyone out. We just do the TV thing now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Last Sunday he said something about someone taking his lamb to the slaughter? And how he is not fit to be a shepherd because he tasted the waters of Babylon. I tried asking him about it, but he didn’t want me to bear his burden which I appreciate. But on the other hand, I’d like to know what the fuck is going on.”

You knitted your brow and asked, “How’s Zeke?”

“A disaster. He smokes inside now. I can’t remember the last time I saw him with a shirt on. And he’s been asking me for weed which is… I don’t mind sharing, but my tolerance is high. It takes a lot to calm this mess down.” He punctuated his sentence with a soft chuckle. “Also he films dad at a Dutch angle. I don’t know, sister. It’s all bad.”

You wanted to hug him, hold him close and like a vice.

“I guess I can stop by, if you want.”

“Really? You’d be down?”

“As long as I don’t see your father, I don’t mind. He’ll be busy preaching, right?”

“Yup!”

“I’ll see you in a few then.”

“Wow. Really? It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

You assured Eren it was no problem and hung up.

Looking through your wardrobe, you hated yourself for getting rid of all your secular clothing. You burned it all in a religious fury, replacing everything with long dresses, with high necklines accentuated with oversized collars, and long sleeves. Your most plain one was still stiff with ocean water. You ended up settling on one in your favorite color.

When you arrived you expected the church to be in ruins. It was a rather hyperbolic thought. But given what Eren told you, your mind felt free to wander down darkened paths. You didn’t dare approach the church proper, instead heading for the back door of the parsonage.

The tide was low, the stench ever present. You dry heaved every couple seconds. You stepped closer to the cliff and saw the rotting carcasses of fish. You hadn’t heard anything about a major die off. You pinched your nostrils shut and swallowed the spit collecting in your mouth.

“It’s gross, ain’t it?” Eren said, walking over to you. “Let’s get inside.”

He held the door open for you and shut it tight. The sound of door slamming made you jump.

“I’m sorry. I’m tryna keep the smell out as best I can,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s okay. I’d rather you be aggressive towards inanimate objects than smell death.”

“You want coffee? I just made a pot. Or do you like tea? I can make tea. Or we can have both. Best of both worlds. Like Hannah Montana,” he rattled off nervously. He shut his eyes tight and sighed deeply, very much aware of how silly he sounded.

“Coffee is fine.”

“How do you take it?”

You explained in great detail how you like your coffee. Eren was shaky and needed the specificities even if your request was on the simpler side. You took a seat at the dining table, one he clearly built. He carefully prepared your cup and placed it in front of you with a very prideful grin on his face. You thanked him and took a sip. It was perfect.

You wasted no time and started to question Eren on the current state of the church the moment he sat at the table.

“Pastor Grisha kicked everyone out?”

Eren winced, hearing you call his father that.

He took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah. He won’t tell me anything though. He does his sermons and then he spends the rest of his time in his office, muttering weird shit like ‘Where did I go wrong?’ and ‘He slaughtered my little lamb.’’

You snicked. “He’s talking about me.”

“What makes you so sure, sister?”

“I fucked your father, brother.”

“I know,” he answered casually.

“And I fucked your brother. Your father caught us in the little clearing by the cliff.”

“I told Zeke not to do that.” Eren said, the vibrancy of his eyes completely dulled.

“You knew?”

“Duh.. He’s my brother. I know everything about him.”

“Did he tell you he jerked off while your dad fucked me?”

“Unfortunately. He… He was desperate and he really likes you. I’m not saying it was right. He’s got some shit to work through.”

“You really care about him, huh?”

“Why wouldn’t I, sister? I love him,” he said cheerfully.

“Where is he?”

“Probably asleep. Service doesn’t start for another hour and a half.”

“I’m very much awake,” his voice boomed from down the hall.

He stepped out of his room clothes in only a tiny pair of grey underwear that left little to the imagination. His back was covered in spindly welts. He had no shame, not an inkling of it. He sauntered into the room and took a seat next to Eren. He glanced back and forth at the two of you. A skimpy joint was tucked behind his ear.

“What’s she doing here?” He asked Eren.

“You can ask her yourself. She’s right there.”

Zeke turned his attention towards you. “Who invited you?”

Eren groaned. “I did. I wanted to hang out with her.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure you’re just ‘hanging out.’” He said, laughing.

“I have no one to talk to! Dad's on the path to being one of those embarrassing street preachers that scream about the end of days. And you never wear clothes and only ever talk to me when you want weed!”

“Do you need a hug?” Zeke asked, his tone comically serious.

“What?! No. Go put pants on.”

“Fine. I’ll conform, if that’ll calm your ass down,” he said.

“Is he high?” You asked.

“Terminally.”

You mouthed a “wow”.

“I can’t decide what pants,” he yelled down the hall. “Come help me.”

Eren sighed. “Let’s humor him.”

The two of you made your way to Zeke’s room. It was rather barren. He had a nice sized bed, with crisp white sheets and a turmeric colored quilt folded at the foot of it. He had a small desk made from birch wood stained a muted black. The chair was the same, though a small pillow softened the seat. His closet door rested on the ground. Zeke explained it fell off the hinges and didn’t care enough to fix it. His room looked like something out of the past. The only modern thing in it was the camera equipment.

Eren frowned and lightly kicked Zeke’s broken door.

“I said I would fix this for you, dumb ass.”

“You’re so cruel. Now! Let’s get down to business.”

He grabbed a lighter off his desk and lit the joint he had behind his ear.

“What about the pants?” You asked, trying not to stare at his cock.

“The what?” He waved his hand as if that made the previous conversation disappear. “Who cares? Here, take a hit.”

“I’m okay,” you demurred.

“Aw, come on? Do you not like me anymore?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I just feel like getting high in a parsonage goes against God’s will.”

He patted your head and passed the joint to Eren. Zeke sat down on his bed and gestured for you to join him. Briefly you resisted but he was too handsome and too willing. Maybe it was God’s will for you to merely sit beside him.

Eren took a seat next to you while puffing on the joint hanging from his lips. He passed it back to Zeke.

“I’m good for now,” he relayed.

Zeke stubbed the joint out in an ashtray and opened a window to let the smoke air out. The haze that had once permeated the room slowly ebbed out into the cold wind. You tried to focus on that instead of Zeke’s cock which appeared to be a little stiff.

“I know you’re looking, sister.”

“I am not!”

Eren laughed. “If you want I can, uh, leave you two alone.”

“No way. I’m here to see you, remember?”

Zeke rested his head on your shoulder.

“What are you saying? You don’t want to see me?”

You rustled his hair. “No. That’s hardly what I meant.”

Eren wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him. There was a territorial tinge to his eyes. You struggled to stifle your laughter. All of the men in this family seemed to be desperate for your attention, even Eren who on occasion seemed like a normal guy.

Zeke looked over at Eren and narrowed his eyes.

“Are you jealous I found my way to her before you?”

“Are you jealous that dad fucked her first?”

Zeke scowled. You sighed deeply and tried to ignore your attraction to them. It was a thankless task.

“Do you want to lay with me, brother?” You asked on the verge of hysterics, playing up the religious pleasantries.

Eren blushed.

“He does,” Zeke said as he sprawled out across your lap. “He told me.”

Eren was staring out across the room, desperately trying to ignore Zeke and you.

“Is that true?”

He ran his hands through his long, dark hair, the silky tendrils finding their way between his fingers.

“Yeah. Happy?”

You gazed at Eren. Your vision blurred around him; he was all you could focus on. You carefully slipped your hand under his suspenders and ran it down one of his pecs. He shivered at your touch. You rubbed his delicate nipple with your thumb.

“Get on top of him,” Zeke suggested, his head in your lap. “I’ll eat your ass if you do it, sister.”

Eren’s eyes widened. The prospect of Zeke eating your ass was very appealing. As you went to straddle Eren, Zeke grabbed your shoulder.

“Not here. The office.”

“What?! No,” you exclaimed.

“Would it make you feel dirty because that’s where you fucked our father?”

“What if he catches us?” You panicked.

“Don’t worry about it. Your brother isn’t going to let anything bad happen to you, okay?” Zeke cooed.

Eren fake gagged and corralled you into Grisha’s office. Zeke’s words did not set you at ease.

You and Zeke took a seat on the couch. He rambled on about how Pastor Grisha now ended every sermon with “Jesus wept.” Eren took off his suspenders and his pants, folding them up neatly. He stood still for a moment, caught up in his own thoughts. You were getting impatient listening to Zeke ramble on. Your desire to fuck Eren was unbearable. All your attention was focused on him.

“Alright. I’m rea—Jesus Christ! Show some restraint!” Eren shouted.

You looked over at Zeke who at some point took off his underwear. He had a smug grin on his face. His cock was standing straight up, veiny and thick as ever. He was raring to go and you hadn’t even noticed.

“I don’t like to waste time,” he responded.

You and Eren both were a little perturbed, but not enough to turn back. Lust flooded your core; you could feel it bubbling up your throat. Zeke’s cock demanded your attention, the tip of it like a red beacon. You leaned in a little closer to him and cupped his balls, squeezing them with your gentle touch. You rubbed them, your grip tightening. Zeke exhaled and lazily threw his head back, eyes shut with pleasure. He beamed; you didn’t realize he was capable of such contentment.

“I’ll let Eren fuck you first, considering I already blessed you with my seed.”

“More like you filled her with your dirt,” Eren groused.

“Just let me have this,” Zeke complained.

If you weren’t so turned on, you would have stood up and walked out the door. But you were hopelessly tethered to them, your body devoted to their light. The holiness you perceived in them made it okay.

Eren gazed at you, his eyes as fertile as a verdant field. He held out his hand which you took and walked to his father’s desk. He kicked his father’s belongings off and gestured for you to sit on it. You happily obeyed. Your total willingness made him nervous. His hands quaked as he lifted your dress and peeled off your underwear.

“Over here,” Zeke said, holding his hand up.

Eren balled up your underwear and beaned them at Zeke’s face. Zeke didn’t seem to care and took an audible whiff. Eren gripped your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the desk. He swiped his fingers against your cunt, coating them with your fluids.

“Open wide.”

You parted your lips and sucked them clean, running your tongue along the pads of his fingers. Your cunt throbbed, aching for his touch. He spread apart your labia and ran his cock down your slit. You whimpered as he slowly plunged it inside you.

“You guys are boring,” Zeke heckled. “She’d be ruined by now if I was fucking her.”

Eren let out an annoyed groan and started to thrust. Zeke reclined on the couch, happily watching the two of you. Eren grunted as your cunt hugged around him. His movements were slow and precise, lacking any of the urgency Zeke or Grisha’s had. You wondered if he was more experienced. You thought about him fucking his way through town, not a person untouched. He was certainly handsome enough.

“Pick up the pace,” Zeke said, stroking his cock.

Eren gritted his teeth. “For the love of God, please shut up. I’m begging you.”

“I’m getting bored though. I want to hear her squeal.”

“It’s not about what you want.” Eren turned his attention towards you. “Right?”

You nodded. Zeke sighed audibly and absent mindedly stroked his cock. You couldn’t help but stare; you wanted it in your mouth.

Eren took notice and began to fuck you harder, the length of his cock consuming your cunt.

“Don’t look at him,” he sneered, grabbing a hold of your face with his free hand. “Open your mouth again.”

You did as you were told. Eren spat directly in your mouth, the action full of derision. His saliva was sweet, tinged with coffee and citrus. He glared down at you and held you by the neck, his palm barely grazing your throat. His touch was gentle unlike his gaze. He clenched his jaw and thrust into you, groaning as he bottomed out. He erupted into a symphony of grunts and moans. His long hair hung in his face and he tried to tuck it behind his ear with no luck.

You heard Zeke laugh and get up off the couch, walking over. Zeke positioned himself behind Eren and reached over his shoulders to tuck his hair behind his ear.

“You looked like you were struggling,” Zeke cooed.

Eren let go of your throat and looked over his shoulder, mildly perturbed, and nodded.

“Why do you still have your shirt on, puritan?” Zeke coyly asked, as he started to unbutton it.

“You’re pushing your luck,” Eren grunted as he drove his cock into you.

Zeke snickered and helped Eren take off his button-down.

“Now it’s a party!” He cheered, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder.

Zeke gazed down at you, the weight of his body pressed up against Eren. You were a panting mess and tried to cover your face. Your shame always got the best of you. After all, you were a Christian. The brothers loved every second of it. Your whines and sighs were their favorite hymns. Zeke grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to Eren.

“Ow!” You yelped as Eren’s cock collided into your cervix.

You gazed up at the men lording over you, their eyes devouring every inch of you like a couple of jackals.

“I’m having a hard time focusing with your cock wedged between my ass,” Eren mumbled.

“Is it too weird?” Zeke asked, backing away.

“I have an idea,” you said, pulling Eren’s cock out of you.

You sat up and gestured for Zeke to sit behind you. He happily got up on the desk and sat behind you. You nestled in between his legs, letting his cock rest up against the small of your back.

“Why do you still have this on?” Zeke murmured in your ear.

His dexterity was impressive; he managed to quickly undo all the little buttons on your dress and pulled it over your head. You could feel his heaving chest up against your back, the hair tickling your spine. Eren unhooked your bra and tossed it to the side. He guided his cock back inside your weeping cunt and began to thrust.

“That feel good?” Eren grunted.

“Y—yes,” you choked out. “So good.”

Zeke groped your breasts, tweaking your nipples in between his rough fingers. Eren gave a smoldering glare to Zeke.

“What is it, brother?” Zeke asked sarcastically. “Did you want her all to yourself?”

Eren continued to force his length into your tormented cunt. He was blushing, still glaring at Zeke. His lush brown locks hung in his face. He almost looked like Jesus. Zeke went to speak, his eyebrows knitted with concern, but Eren interrupted him with a rough kiss, ripe with insatiable yearning. He continued to thrust wildly, delving his cock into your dripping cunt. Eren was close. His moans obscured by the kiss. Zeke pulled away and cleared his throat. You managed to catch a glimpse of his beet red face as you felt a spurt of warm fluid on your back.

“Sorry, sister,” he murmured.

Eren’s balls clapped up against your taint as he pounded away. Your body tensed up in anticipation of your orgasm. Eren’s cock filled every inch of your cunt, stretching it out as his hips grinded up against you. Your skin felt like it had electricity running through it, the Holy Spirit imbuing you with its light. Your body contorted in rapture as your vision faded. All you saw was light. You felt like God Himself.

Zeke lazily started to rub your clit, lubricating his finger with your fluids, which sent you to the brink. You were entrenched in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you. You tried to speak but all you could do was babble, the only coherent sound being you sputtering out Eren’s name.

Eren smirked and slowed down his pace, becoming more deliberate with his thrusts.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moaned.

He tossed his head back and filled you with his warm, milky cum. His hips bucked a few more times before he slumped forward, resting his head on your shoulder. You kissed the top of his head.

“I wanna worship you both,” you said breathily.

“Oh yeah?” Zeke asked.

Eren chuckled. “How do you plan on doing such a thing, sister?”

“Come down my throat.”

Zeke tumbled off the desk and quickly got to his feet. Eren helped you off and stood next to his brother. You got on your knees and gazed up at them. They were regal and beautiful, painfully so. You could bask in their presence for ages and never tire of it. Eren met your gaze and smiled. He stroked your cheek.

“Need some help?” Zeke asked Eren, pointing at his semi-hard cock.

Eren’s eyes widened.

“It’s cool if you don’t! I just thought since… You do realize you kissed me, right?”

Eren huffed. “Yes! I was hoping dad would walk in.”

“It’d really ruin him if he caught me jerking you off, especially so close to his precious, little lamb.”

Zeke had the mind of a demon. It disturbed you to no end, but it was just as alluring. Both of the brothers were blushing, their chests as pink as their cheeks. Eren looked down at you for guidance.

“Let him help,” you replied.

Your tone was marred with shame. You were still scared by the sin of it all, but traumatizing Pastor Grisha had its appeal after everything he had done. You needed your wanton desires to triumph, to horrify the holy man.

Eren let out a muted moan as Zeke gripped his cock. You eagerly watched as Zeke squeezed the length of it. Eren’s expression exuded an alluring agony. You lapped at his balls as Zeke hesitantly jerked him off. You rolled your tongue along the raphe, relishing in his rapturous groans. You flicked Eren’s aching cock with your tongue like a serpent.

Eren’s body relaxed a little, his shoulders not held as high. You sucked on his cock, savoring the precum dribbling from it. You worked in tandem with Zeke until Eren’s cock was throbbing and glistening with precum and spit.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Zeke asked. “I’m not playing coy. Was that okay?”

“I guess,” Eren mumbled. “Yeah.”

“Let’s just think of it as a really fun Eucharist,” Zeke replied, hip checking his brother.

You stared up at Eren and Zeke, eager to service them. You took Zeke’s cock in your mouth and swirled your tongue around the tip. He patted your head as you sucked. Drool trickled from the corners of your mouth. Eren watched intently and stepped closer to you, his erection demanding your attention. You caressed it with a tender touch. His verdant gaze fixed on you, heavy with ardor. No one had ever looked at you like that before.

You released Zeke’s cock from your mouth and masturbated him using your free hand. Zeke’s gaze matched Eren’s, his grey eyes boring holes through yours. You beckoned them to stand closer together and frotted their cocks, suckling on the tips in between jerking them off.

The sound of heavy footsteps ripped you from your debauched trance.

“Did you hear that? I think I heard—”

“Suck us off at the same time,” Zeke pleaded.

Eren nervously looked to the side, but gave you a nod. You resumed holding their cocks together and eased them into your mouth. You felt like the corners of your mouth were going to tear as you struggled to fit them in.

“Atta girl,” Zeke purred.

The footsteps grew nearer.

“Boys? We ought to start service,” you heard Grisha call out.

“Zeke,” Eren muttered.

“Hm?” He said as he watched as tears ran down your cheeks.

Eren cupped Zeke’s face in his hands and kissed him as the knob of the door jiggled. It was ripe with desperation like the previous one. Eren bit down on Zeke’s bottom lip. Your cunt throbbed at the sight. You gagged and took their cocks out of your mouth, opting instead to jerk them off.

Grisha opened the door and stepped inside. He let out a little sigh before he noticed the depravity taking place.

“Oh God, no!”.

Eren laughed, breaking the kiss.

“Why? Why would you do this?!”

You lapped at Eren and Zeke’s cock, relishing in the pained shouts coming from the pastor. Zeke bucked his hips against your fist, fucking it furiously.

“Give me an answer! What did I do to either of you to deserve this?!”

The brothers ignored his cries. Zeke nuzzled his face into Eren’s neck and rubbed the back of your head.

“I’m close,” he whimpered. “Can I come on your face, sister?”

You nodded with a big smile on your face.

“How could you do this?” Grisha asked dejectedly, holding your gaze.

You didn’t answer. Grisha was of little importance. All you cared about were his sons.

“Sorry, father,” Zeke moaned as ropes of cum splattered across your cheeks.

“I—I raised you better than this!”

Eren clenched his fist while his erection dwindled.

“I don’t think you did,” Eren replied.

Grisha was stunned. “Excuse me?”

You let go of Eren’s cock and tried to wipe away Zeke’s cum with the back of your hand. You only proceeded to make a bigger mess. Zeke got to his knees and licked the remnants off your face.

“Look at us,” Eren said. “Zeke’s been convinced he’s going to Hell since he was four years old.”

“That has nothing to do with me! I never once told him such a thing.”

“It was implied,” Zeke whispered.

Eren was undeterred. “Did you know he flagellates himself? Or do you just not pay attention to the blood stains on the backs of his shirts?”

“I can’t be aware of every little thing that goes on, Eren. You… You could have told me!”

“And what good would that have done? Would you’ve cleaned his wounds at two in the morning? Let him sob in bed with you until sunrise?”

Zeke’s eyes had glazed over, not a hint of light to them.

“I… I d—don’t know,” the pastor sputtered.

“Exactly,” Eren laughed. “See, I didn’t even have to think about it. And you know what’s really fucked up? I didn’t learn that from you.”

“Eren, I…”

“And it’s not like I came out of this unscathed! Why do you think I’m high all the fucking time? I can’t deal with the overwhelming guilt an—and shame for not being whatever it is you wanted me to be.”

You wanted to run out of the office and leave everything behind. The situation was too much to bear. Eren’s rage, Zeke’s dissociation, the fact the three of you were still naked.

“I’m… going to go,” Zeke said suddenly.

He stood up and breezed past his father like he wasn’t even there. You remained a distressed heap on the floor.

“Eren, I’m sorry,” Grisha whispered.

“Oh my God,” Eren laughed again. “No. No, you’re not.”

Grisha’s face fell and he turned his attention towards you. You were to bear the brunt of his discontent.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t try to pin this on her. She was just a catalyst.”

Grisha shook his head, resuming his previous pathetic visage. “My son, what can I do to make this right?”

Eren held out his hand to you and helped you up. You quickly found your dress and yanked it over your head.

“Nothing. You fucked up,” he responded, getting dressed. “You might as well find some poor woman to bear you a new son. Maybe you won’t fuck him up though you never seemed like the learning type.”

Eren led you past Grisha and out of the office.

“I know this is asking a lot, but could I stay with you for a bit?” Eren asked matter-of-factly.

You tried to shake yourself from your daze. Grisha’s words still haunted you.

“My apartment’s kinda small, but sure?”

“Thank you. I’m gonna go grab some stuff and then we can head out.”

Eren left you in the foyer to grab his keys from his room. Grisha approached you, desperate to convince you to stay with him.

“My precious lamb—”

“Don’t.”

“Please, I want to explain.”

“Stop talking to her,” Eren called out, pulling on a jacket.

Grisha glared at him momentarily before sighing and walking off. You didn’t think he’d give up on you so quickly. It was strange to see him so subdued and broken. You felt a twinge of sympathy, but it was gone as fast as it came. Grisha didn’t deserve any goodwill.

“You’ll be back,” he murmured, stepping into his office and slamming the door shut.

Eren and you set off for his car and hopped inside. It was a boring sedan, an older model from the early 90s, and it reeked of marijuana. He put his keys in the ignition as a smile crossed his face.

“You alright?” You asked.

He started the car and drove away from the parsonage, a few tears fell from his eyes.

“Yeah. It… It was a long time coming, but honestly I have no idea what I’m gonna do now.”

“We carry similar burdens. We can figure it out together.”

You liked the idea of healing with Eren, growing past your oppressive Christian upbringings and seeing the world anew. He rested his hand on your thigh and looked in his rear-view mirror.

“Is that?” He said, his green eyes popping out of his head.

It was Zeke, hauling ass after the car. He was sprinting like he was competing for a spot in the Summer Olympics. His form was astounding. He always looked like an athlete.

“Oh shit,” Eren said, stifling a laugh. “Hold on.”

He pulled over and waited until Zeke tapped on the window. Eren unlocked the car and Zeke crawled into the backseat. His shirt was barely buttoned and his fly was down. His flaxen hair was more askew than usual.

“I can’t believe you were going to leave me,” he said, catching his breath.

“You wandered off! I didn’t know where you went.” Eren scrambled for the right words. “I—I would’ve called you.”

“How? I don’t have a phone and neither do you.”

“Well, you’re here with us now and that’s all that matters,” you said, trying to settle the brothers down.

It seemed to work. Zeke exhaled and rested his head on the window, gazing out into the ocean. You weren’t sure how you’d make this all work. Your apartment had a single bedroom and not much space for two grown men, but you were determined to make it work. After everything you all had been through it was crucial you remained together, at least until the wounds healed. And the stinging guilt of turning your back on Pastor Grisha and God subsided.

“This is gonna sound kinda stupid, but… I don’t know what I would have done without you guys. I felt lost for so long. Going to church and hating myself for not being the most pious person. Getting wrapped up in your father’s crap. But you, uh, you both changed that. You saved me.” You tacked on a nervous laugh. “Somehow.”

The car fell silent and you felt silly for making such a claim.

Eren broke the silence. “We saved each other.”

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