#What does the Bible say about masturbation? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoonieshoney · 1 month

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Synopsis: After Lee Heeseung got caught in bit of a legal scandal he is summoned to community service thanks to his father’s legal connections. Heeseung finds himself stuck for the next six weeks working at the local church, how lucky for him the pastors sweet daughter is there to keep him company.

Pairing: LeeHeeseung x afabNaive!Virgin!Reader

Warnings: “DARK CONTENT-ish”.Dub con, manipulation, religious themes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thigh riding, creampie, cum eating, masturbation (male and female), sexual use of a rosary, sexual scenes in a church, fingering, cursing, dirty talk, corruption kink, oral (male&female), hair pulling, slight spanking, slight mention of blood, slight choking, ??noncon??(I'm adding that tag because there is a moment of hesitation that could be viewed as noncon)

Word Count: 7.3k

Part of 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖚𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 , but can be read as a stand alone!

Taglist: @deobitifull @iveivory

Author Note: Though this isn’t as dark as my normal content I’m still marking it as dark because it’s still manipulation and it has dark and religious themes to it (and I know people are sensitive to those topics), so to be safe and protect those individuals I’m just marking it as dark content. Not 100% proofread, if you see a mistake, no you didn’t❤️ I hope you enjoy it! ❤️I appreciate all comments/reblogs/likes ❤️ I love to hear your thoughts ❤️ Enjoy little ducklings!

Lee Heeseung is well aware of what he is. He’s a liar, a manipulator, an unreliable friend, an average college student, but above everything, what he takes the most pride in, is that Heeseung is an amazing hookup. He knows he’s hot, he knows girls talk about how great he is in bed especially about how well endowed he is.

He’s never had to fight for anything in his life, he’s always gotten what he wanted without hesitation, and yes, that includes women.

He loves women, more notably he loves taken women. The rush of having someone’s girlfriend underneath him compares to nothing else, especially if they're hooking up with the boyfriend nearby. He can’t explain it, he loves the rush he gets knowing they picked him, they’re risking it all for him.

And watching that same girl go up to her loser boyfriend and kiss him with the same mouth Heeseung just had his dick in has his chest swelling with pride.

But you. Fuck. You were the ultimate prize, the forbidden fruit, the one.

Six weeks of forced community service under the watchful eye of the most respected church pastor in town, your father. Heeseung was initially pissed knowing he’d be spending three days a week, including church service on Sundays, in a tiny stuffy room sorting through church donations. But then the most wonderful “miracle” happened, you.

He doesn’t know how it happened, you’re not the type of girl he goes for. You didn’t even spare him a second glance when he walked in on his first day. But fuck, your face, your modest clothing, your big doe eyes, everything he wouldn’t spare a glance at on a normal day had him aching to touch you. The silver cross necklace resting on your collarbones, the Bible you always had nearby with sticky notes and bookmarks sticking out, the white and silver rosary always nearby and that fucking ring…oh my god he almost lost all self control when he heard about it that first week of work.

“Are you engaged? You’re still in college, why would you want to settle down already?” He asks, tapping the silver band on your left ring finger.

You giggle and swat his hand away, “no silly. It’s a purity ring.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “what’s that?”

“It’s a promise ring to God basically. Meaning I’ll remain pure until marriage.”

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. No sex until marriage? That sounds horrible.

“So you’ve never…”

“Of course not!” You say, like you’re offended by the assumption.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” His interest now fully peaked.

“Nope,” you answer, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“So in a way...you belong to God?” He questions licking his lips.

“Yeah..until I get married, I guess you could say that.”

Fuck.

He barely made it outside to the church parking lot into his car with his hand wrapped around his cock jerking off to the mental image of your dainty hand wrapped around him instead, looking up at him with wide curious eyes like you usually do. The image of that little band on your finger had him spilling all over his hand in minutes, even managing to get some of his cum on the windshield.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it. He never had any desire for virgins, they were way too whiny and he didn’t like how clingy they were afterwards.

But you.

You were completely untouched, completely untainted, so pure, he wanted to devour you. He wanted to own every part of you.

You were the grand prize..he loved fucking promised women, and when you said you “belonged to God” that was it.

He was on a mission.

He had to take you from him.

“What are you staring at?” You asked, breaking Heeseungs train of thoughts.

“Nothing..sorry angel, just spaced out.” He smiles watching you look up at him.

“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled at the nickname Heeseung bestowed to you since starting his community service at your fathers church.

“You like it,” he teased, flashing his signature side smirk. You did, but a part of you also didn't know if he meant it in a condescending way.

“Come on, we'll be late for the service.”

You clutched your bible and rosary to your chest and started to ascend the church steps with Heeseung trailing behind. You weren’t sure what exactly he did to end up here, but he’s been a big help to you with all the church donation organizing.

And he hardly complained, it even seemed like he was starting to enjoy coming to Sunday services and sitting in the pew with your friends and family. Taking your usual spots on the pew, you open your Bible and wait for your father to start the service.

Heeseung was so confused at what was happening, he couldn’t understand what your dad was preaching about, didn’t understand the songs, and didn’t know a single prayer. This whole thing was a fucking waste of his time. The only good thing about these Sunday services was being near you. Especially when you got on your knees during the service, when you would take the bread of Christ in your mouth and swallow it down with the sacramental wine, it had him imagining unspeakable things. The way you had your hands clasped together, looking up with big doe eyes as you took the offerings was such a sinful sight.

After the service you stayed behind with Heeseung to put away any new donations made by the churchgoers.

“Did you enjoy today's service?” You ask.

“Yeah, I definitely learned a lot today,” a sheepish grin adorns his face. He doesn’t even remember half of it.

There wasn’t any denying Heeseung was attractive. Everything about him was inviting. Sometimes your hands would brush or he would accidentally press up against you to walk around in the small donation room and it had a flushing sensation on your body.

You tried not to focus on it, you were also very well aware of the promiscuous reputation he carried on his back.

“That’s good, I’m going to miss having you around here when you leave us,” you admit shyly.

“Don’t worry angel, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirked, leaning forward on the sorting table you both were working at.

“You’re such a flirt,” You shake your head. He can see the smile you’re biting back and the tips of your ears redden.

“Can’t help it when I’m around a pretty girl,” he shrugs.

You roll your eyes and focus back on sorting through the small donation pile. He’s a player, he’s a player, you repeat to yourself in your head, he doesn’t like you in that way.

Where am I?

A floral field surrounds you, kneeling on a blanket, clad in a typical dress you normally wear for Sunday services with your rosary clutched in your hands. What’s going on?

“Hey angel..” that voice, ah that velvet smooth voice that has your heart in your throat.

He looks beautiful, of course he does, sitting on the blanket next to you. His dark messy hair falling in front of his doe eyes, he’s in white slacks and a white button up, the sleeves rolled up.

He almost looks ethereal, “come closer to me.”

Without hesitation you move to him.

“Let me see,” he motions toward the beads in your hands. You hand them over and watch the mischievous smirk creep onto his face. He moves behind you on his knees and rubs his hands on your shoulders, massaging you. You hum feeling his large hands rub down your arms stopping at your wrists.

He wraps the beads around your wrists, binding them together behind your back. You look at him confused, but he just smiles and turns your body around to face him. He sits back on his bottom and pulls into his lap. Making sure to position you where you’re straddling his thigh, causing your dress to lift up slightly.

��H-Heeseung what are you-“

He stroked your cheek, cutting you off, “can you pray for me?”

“What?”

He rubs his hands on your exposed thighs. “Let me hear you pray. Recite the all father, for me, angel.” The nickname only makes you shudder under his touch. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven,”

You suddenly gasp, feeling him grab your hips and rock your body back and forth on his thigh.

“Hall-hallowed be Thy N-n-name. Thy Kingdom co-come,” you gasp and try to move your hands from behind your back but he's restrained you tightly with your rosary. The friction from his pants against your drenched panties rubbing against your swollen clit is slowly becoming unbearable.

“Thy Wi-will be do-done, On-on earth as it is-is in Heaven.”

You cry out as he starts flexing his thigh underneath you, desperate to touch him you fight against the rosary keeping your arms bound behind you. He pulls you down harder on his leg making you rock against him faster. This is how he wanted you, completely at his mercy.

“Keep going angel…” His lips were on your neck sucking the soft skin between his teeth.

“Give us-us this day, o-our daily br-bread,”

He grabs your throat making you look up at him and watches you intently as you rock against his thigh sloppily trying to desperately chase your high. You pant with your eyes wide and glassy, your moves becoming more erratic as you struggle against the rosary.

“And for-forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who-who trespass ag-against us.”

You were soaking through his slacks. Your voice gets more breathy as you feel that knot in your lower belly ready to snap, closing your eyes trying to desperately keep the same pace against his flexed thigh.

“Don’t you dare look away….” He growls gripping your chin, your eyes snap open and he stares right into your soul. “Make a mess, angel.”

Your eyes stared into his dark ones and you moaned out loudly feeling yourself release onto his thigh. Your mouth dropped open but only choked noises were coming out, letting the blinding heat of your orgasm course through your veins. He lets you catch your breath while rubbing your trembling bottom lip, “finish it..”

“And lead us not into temptation.....but deliver us from evil.” you pant out staring at him still on your orgasmic high.

“Good fucking girl”

You shoot up from your bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat and a sticky feeling between your legs. Pulling the blanket off of you to try and let in cold air to your body you gasp at the sight of your gray sleep pants completely soaked through.

What the fuck..

Why did you just dream about Lee Heeseung..

And did you just cum completely untouched?..

Swallowing thickly you walk through the church parking lot to your designated donation table by your fathers side. Today was the church food drive, lots of people were showing up to drop off their canned goods. It was also the first day seeing Heeseung since your dream. Since that night you’ve felt the dull uncomfortable ache between your legs, and a part of you knew only he could fix it. Which only had you feeling disgusting for having such thoughts.

“Seungie!” A high pitched squeaky voice breaks you out of your concentration and you see a girl running toward Heeseung. The girl, only clad in short shorts and a small tank top, throws her arms around Heeseung giggling.

He’s smirking at her and obviously checking her out. An uncomfortable churn in your stomach makes you look away.

Why do you care? You knew he had quite the reputation, lots of the girls around you whispered about his escapades and how they so badly wanted to experience it for themselves.Why were you jealous?

Heeseung sees you from the corner of his eye, how your body tensed up when he hugged Karina and how you immediately looked away.

Fuck, how is he supposed to get you to trust him when these stupid girls are acting this way in front of you.

“Are you even listening to me, Seungie?” Karina’s shrill voice snaps him back to his reality.

“Sorry, I’m just super busy right now. Can we talk later?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “so what? Now that you fucked me you don’t want to talk to me now?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend to worry about?” He glares.

“We broke up..you said I was special. I thought we could be tog-“

He raises his hand and shakes his head. “I’m gonna stop you right there Karina. You were fun, but that hookup was all we’re ever gonna have. I never told you to break up with him.”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

He wants to laugh, “Karina we were never a thing.”

“Fuck you, Heeseung.” He watches her stomp away with tears in her eyes.

He looks back at your table and sees your back is turned to him.

Ah fuck, were you mad? He watches you grab a box of donated food and walk into the small donation building you two work out of.

Perfect, he can talk to you alone.

✞

“Are you mad at me?” Heeseung asks, walking into the donation room startling you.

“Why do you ask that?” You mumble avoiding his gaze.

“You’ve won’t even look at me, angel.” He stands next to you as you place the food on the shelf. You look at him briefly and chew your bottom lip nervously.

“I'm just busy Heeseung, we have a lot of food to sort through.”

“I don't care angel, what's wrong?” He moves closer to you, caging you against the shelf you’re working on.

“Are you dating that girl that was all over you?” You blurt out before you realize. You feel the embarrassment wash over you. Way to keep it cool.

He studies your face before breaking out into a smug grin. You weren’t mad at him, you were jealous of Karina.

“Does that matter?” He asks, leaning toward you testing just to see how jealous you really were.

“I guess not, what you do with easy girls is your business.” You bite.

He barks a laugh, oh you were so fucking jealous and it was so fucking hot. He has never heard you talk bad about anyone before. But here you were, calling Karina easy because you liked him. He was already tainting you.

“I’m not dating her, angel.”

“She was all over you,” you whisper. He watched your annoyed expression turn into a pout and your eyes avoided his nervously.

Oh you poor sweet thing. If only you knew how much I wanted to fuck you, you wouldn’t be jealous of some slut.

“Aw, did my angel not like that?”He says with faux sympathy, caressing your cheek.

“Don’t make fun of me!” His touch only ignited that burning feeling in the pit of your belly.

“I’m not angel, you’re just so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” You try not to melt into his touch but it’s hard. And he looks so inviting.

He was standing so close to you. His cologne overwhelmed your senses, you could feel the warmth of his body heat. He watches your face and smiles, noticing how your eyes keep dropping to his lips, having a hard time on where to keep your focus.

Time to test the waters a little further.

“Am I making you nervous, angel?”

“No,” you lie. He chuckles, he knows you’re lying, your body gives it away. He can see your pink cheeks, your clenched fists at your side and watches you rub your thighs together. He leans down and places his lips right on your earlobe and he inhales the scent of your floral shampoo. He feels you shudder against him.

“Does anyone else get your little body reacting this way?” His breath fans across your neck. You almost whine when he removes his face and stares down at you with hooded eyes.

He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and runs his thumb along your jaw. Stopping at your bottom lip he rubs it softly, of course it’s soft.

The vivid images of your dream flash across your brain and your eyes widen remembering him doing the same thing after your orgasm. He sees your panicked gaze and he can feel his cock throbbing in his jeans. His gaze darkens, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”

His touch made your skin feel warm, it sent little shockwaves throughout your body and was leaving an uncomfortable mess between your thighs.

“I-um..have to go..” you push past him and quickly walk out of the little room. You needed to breathe, your body was going into overdrive and it felt like it was on fire. This wasn’t supposed to feel good. Your body isn’t supposed to react that way. These feelings..were sinful.

The donation drive was still busy and you didn’t want to be seen. Spotting the empty church you decide its best to put distance between you and Heeseung and try to ground yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You run in and look around the familiar space, you need to pray. You needed to beg for forgiveness. You needed to do something to stop these feelings.

Your eyes lock onto the confessional booth and you breathe a sigh of relief. That could work.

Shutting the door to the small confessional you sit on the wooden chair and try to calm your breathing. You never felt this out of control of your body before, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen.

You hear the door to the otherside of the confessional open and close, only able to see the silhouette of the person coming in because of the latticed divider providing anonymity for the people who are using it to confess their sins to your father.

“Are you really hiding from me, in here?”

Of course it’s him.

“What do you want, Heeseung?” You try your best to sound stable but your voice comes out shaky.

“Why are you hiding from me angel?”

His voice was laced with more faux sympathy. He knows what he’s doing. He also knows you’re too naive to pick up on how he’s messing with you.

“You..you make me feel weird..”

“In a bad way?” He can’t help the smile that creeps on his face.

“In a way..I’ve never felt before..it scares me..I don’t know what to do..”

Fuck you sounded so good like this. So desperate, so ready to be molded into his little slut.

“Are you wet..”

He was feeling bold now.

“W-what..”

He can hear the trembling in your voice. He lowers his voice and presses his lips against the lattice screen so you can hear him clearly.

“Is your little pussy wet for me, angel?”

“H-Heeseung! We’re in the church! Don’t say things like that..”

He can hear the change in your breathing and whine in your tone. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake.

You hear him fiddle with the buckle of his belt. “Put your hand in your panties, angel..”

“I can-can’t do that..” You gasp, was he serious? Was he really going to do such immoral things in the confessional?

“Yes you can angel, do it for me. It’ll make you feel good, baby girl, I promise.”

As much as he wanted to degrade and ruin you, he couldn’t risk you running out of this booth and telling your father. He had to play with you a little to get you wanting more of him.

“Touch yourself..tell me how it feels angel..”

His tone was soft and comforting, maybe..maybe just this once. And he was offering to help, you would be rude to not accept his help, right?

Slipping your shaking fingers into your skirt and into panties you feel the amount of arousal that has leaked out of you. “Wh-what do you want me to do..”

He groans, throwing his head back on the confessional wall. The question alone was enough to tip him over the edge. You really were an innocent angel, he was going to mold you into the perfect little plaything for him.

“Rub your pussy baby, just keep rubbing it for me.”

He spits in his palm and starts rubbing his weeping cock.

You slid your fingers between your slicked lips, lightly grazing your clit, making your hips buck in the air and a loud whimper escaping your lips before you could clamp your teeth on your bottom lip. You had never felt the need to masturbate before, this was all new to you. You find your clit again and rub your fingers faster against it, moaning out again, he presses his head against the lattice desperate to see you but can only make out the silhouette of your body and your arm moving. He fucks his fist faster to the sounds of your whimpers.

“I can hear how wet you are angel, fuck I bet you’re dripping all over the chair. Don’t you dare go inside, I’m the only one going inside of that virgin pussy.”

His dirty mouth only makes you whine and clench around nothing. You pressed your fingers to your entrance, you didn't slip inside, just teased the hole to get a feel for it, even more of your arousal was leaking out of you. You prop a leg on the chair giving you better access to your clit and your rub harder and faster against the swollen bundle.

“Cum for me angel, let me hear my angel’s sweet voice when she cums.” His voice is husky and you replay the images of your dream, mixed with hearing the sounds of his groans and the squelching of his hand around his cock send you into overdrive moving your hand faster. Your vision goes spotty and you moan out in ecstasy as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your head hits the wall as you whine loudly, your toes curling in your shoes. The sound has Heeseung’s eyes rolling into his head and he chokes out a gasp as his cum shoots out in hot thick ropes and coats his hand and part of the confessional box.

You sink into your chair and try to breathe, your body still convulsing from little aftershocks of your first ever orgasm. Coming down from your euphoric high you see the little cross above the door and feel the shame.

What have you done? It’s bad enough to act on such desires..but in a confessional. This had to be unforgivable.

Stepping out of the confessional box on shaky legs you look around the church and feel the shame overtake the high you were just on.

You're in a church, in God's house, and you just masturbated in a confessional box. The reality of your actions repeating over and over in your head.

Heeseung opens the door to his side of the box and immediately engulfs you in his arms, his mouth is on yours before you even have time to react; your first kiss.

It’s soft at first, both of his hands coming to cup your face but he gets hungrier by the second. Moving his soft lips against yours chasing every movement, you almost forget to breathe trying to pull away but his grip is tight on you. Sliding his tongue in between your lips and lightly massages your own causing a small groan to bubble within you. He smirks, feeling how cautious and uncertain your tongue moves against his. He pulls away, giving your bottom lip one last lick and pecking it one last time.

“We should get back out there, angel.”

Sunday approached quicker than you would have liked. You spent days replaying the events of what happened with Heeseung over and over. A part of you felt saddened by the whole thing, he didn’t talk to you about it afterward and he didn’t call or text and it seemed like maybe he just wanted to add you to the long list of girls he had. But another part of you was desperate for more of him, wanting him to do more, and wanting to be enough so that he wouldn’t need those other girls. The conflicting sides of you causing inner turmoil and questioning your place in the world.

You spent your whole life with a moral code, you never let anyone challenge that or try and change who you were. And now, you didn’t know where you stood. Because if Heeseung didn’t want to be with you, and he was just using you, that would mean you changed your core values for someone who didn’t respect you. And what respectable man would want you after that? After you easily give up your innocence to someone with a questionable reputation.

You shake the thoughts out of your head and wipe the tears on the back of your hand and continue to straighten up the church altar. Services ended an hour ago, everyone had gone home and you were left alone to clean up the altar and the mess of your life. Heeseung didn’t sit with you today like he usually did and it was his last Sunday of his community service sentence, he left right after service. So it’s safe to assume he's just gone and you were passing the time for him while he was here.

“What are you doing in here?” Heeseung asks, startling you. You turn around and watch him walk down the aisle to the altar he sees you cleaning.

“Just putting some stuff away,” you mumbled wiping the rag across the marble altar table.

“Where is your father?” He asks looking around making sure no one was in sight.

“The clergy have a lunch meeting together this afternoon, I told my father I’d stay behind to clean so he can attend.”

He hears the sadness in your voice and bites back a smile. He saw you the entire service staring at him with hopeful eyes trying to get his attention. He wanted you to miss him, to want him, to need him. And judging by the sad tone and watery eyes, his plan had worked. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Why are you still here? Isn’t today your last Sunday?” you ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“Is that why you’re sad, angel? Because you think I’d leave without my girl?” He smiled, stopping in front of the altar. You roll your eyes and turn back around to finish what you were doing.

“I’m not your girl Heeseung,”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, angel. Careful, God doesn’t like liars.” He taunts coming up behind you and rubbing his hands down your arms. He feels you tense under his touch, the goosebumps rise on your skin.

Dropping his face down to your shoulder he sighs softly, “you know, you look really angelic right now..standing here in this pretty white dress, all these candles lit, it's almost sinful how beautiful you look.” He whispers in your ear gently nipping at your earlobe.

You grip the rag in your hand tightly. “What do you want from me, Heeseung?”

“I want you,” He answers, kissing your shoulder.

“I don’t..I don’t want to be like other girls..” you softly admit.

He smirks against your shoulder rubbing his hands on your hips and turning you around.

“Angel, you’re nothing like the other girls.”

“Really…?” You look up at him with your wide doe eyes and he smiles.

Gotcha, angel. You’re mine now.

“Trust me baby, they don’t compare to you..”

The innocent smile on your face was going straight to his cock. He needed to work fast. Rubbing your cheek tenderly he kisses your lips, letting his tongue work its way into your mouth. He grabs your hand in his larger one and guides it down to the front of his jeans placing it right over his hard on. You gasp and pull away confused, but he chases your mouth with his and continues to kiss you while he “whines” to you.

“Angel..*kiss*..it hurts..*kiss*..it hurts so bad..*kiss*..please touch me angel..*kiss*..make it better..please..” The soft whine in his voice makes you want to help. You don’t want him to hurt, you have to help him.

You were too fucking easy to mold.

He unbuckles his jeans and lowers them just enough to release himself. Your hands are clumsy as you reach for him, he sees your nervousness and it only fuels the fire. Wrapping your small hand around his heavy length you look at him for guidance. He wraps his hand around yours and guides it up and down in a pumping motion. You watch his eyes close and hear him hiss, “Fuck…just like that angel..”

He lets you work on his length for a few minutes before he tests the waters again.

“Angel..I need more..I need your mouth. Can you be a good girl and get on your knees for me?”

You stop pumping him and look at him for a few seconds. You nod, and drop to your knees on the wooden floor and you finally fully take the sight of him. He’s long and thick, it bobs in the air, it’s two toned with an angry red tip and salty precum leaking from the slit. The sight had your mouth watering.

The sight of you finally on your knees in front of him was almost too much. He wasn’t going to last long.

You look up at him and grab his cock and lick a circle around the mushroom tip, suckling the tip to drink in his precum.

His knees almost give out instantly. This was already better than any prior sexual experience he had ever had.

“Angel..” He breathes out and makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair. You keep his eye contact and take his length slowly into your mouth, hoping you're doing okay. Your tongue glides around his throbbing length and he moans again.

“Do you want me to guide you angel..”

You hum around him and the smug grin returns to his face. “Relax your jaw and let me take over.”

You obey and he hums stroking your cheek. The sweet affection only lasts for a second before he pulls your mouth further down his cock and you choke around him. The vibrations only added to his pleasure. Tears sting your eyes as he starts to fuck your face pushing your head down further and further on his cock.

“That’s it angel..you’re doing so well for me..”

His praises only fuel you to try and be good for him. You let him continue to pound into your throat, the chocked sounds around his cock pushing him close to his release.

Your tear eyes and mouth wrapped around him, having him seeing stars, he pulls out quickly. He was only going to cum in one hole today and it wasn’t going to be your mouth. He watches the spit and precum dribble down your chin and mix with your tears.

Fuck. He was so close to losing all self control.

“Fuck me angel, you look so good like this, what would God say of he saw you like this,” He teases wiping the mess off your chin.

“Don’t say that..”you frowned.

The pout..that fucking pout did it. It pushed him to the edge.

“Fuck…I cant hold on anymore I have to fuck you.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped you by your hair to your feet.

“Hee-Heeseung I can’t..” you shake your head and try to back away.

“You can and you will, angel.”

You stare at him with a confused expression, was he serious? He doesn’t give you time to take in his words because he's picking you up and leaning you against the marble altar you just cleaned. He places you on the altar, discarding the large Bible, and other items to the floor before sitting you down and slotting himself between your legs.

He grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down with your bra exposing your bare tits to him, your nipples instantly harden from the cool air.

You truly looked sinful. Sitting on the church altar, bible discarded on the floor, lit candles around the both of you, the sun shining in through the stained glass windows painting you in red hues, if there truly was a God Heeseung was going to hell for what he was about to do to God’s favorite angel.

Your doe eyes were wide with anticipation as you stared at him waiting for his next move. Everything around you seemed to have blur out, no longer caring where you were. All you could focus on was Heeseung.

He takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth and massages the other with his large hand, pinching the bud between his fingers. Your jaw goes slack at the feeling of his tongue, you arch into him at the new sensation.

While you're distracted he slips his hand under your dress and skillfully tugs down your panties, of course noticing how the entire front of them are completely drenched in your arousal. He bites down harder on your nipple and sucks harshly causing you to arch your back again and lean your head back further and he carefully slots the ruined panties in his back pocket while you’re not looking. A perfect reminder of today.

Pulling away he kisses your chest before standing up straight and looking down on you, he pushes you gently on your back, you shiver feeling the cold marble under your back. He pushes your knees up and places your feet flat on the altar displaying your leaking pussy to him. He licked his bottom dip, he wanted a taste of you, but time was a factor and he needed to get his dick in you fast before you got lost in your head and changed your mind.

He ran his fingers over your slippery pussy gathering some of your moisture and rubbed around your entrance and slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside. He watched your eyes flutter shut and mouth drop open. Fuck, you were impossibly tight.

You felt your walls clenching around him and he shoved another finger in. You moaned out at the intrusion.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows as you watched, he continued to scissor his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out.

“Does it feel good angel?” He whispers against your knee and kisses it.

You nod cautiously, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You're so fucking tight I don’t know if my cock will fit in this little pussy angel.” He smirks feeling how you clench around his fingers at his dirty talk.

His long fingers explored you searching for that special spot. He taps a particular spongy spot and you drop back onto your back moaning loudly, and your hips buck into his hand.

Found it.

The amount of moisture leaking out of you was sinful, he dropped his head between your thighs and licked a stripe from his fingers to your clit to just get a taste of you. You jerked at the sensation and clenched harder around his fingers.

Fuck, he usually couldn’t be bothered about going down on women, but you tasted so sweet he was definitely going to have to spend an hour or two later just devouring your leaking cunt. Kissing the inside of your thigh he fucks his fingers into you faster, making sure to hit that spongy spot.

“Come on angel..cum for me..”

He latches his mouth back onto your chest leaving purple bites in his path. You groan the feeling of that familiar knot in your abdomen is back. Running your fingers through his messy dark hair you arch slightly more into his mouth, your hips stutter, and you release all over his hand crying out. His fingers stayed inside of you working you through your orgasm.

Watching you come down from your high his dark eyes flicker to the large cross above you and he chuckles softly, maybe he should thank the heavens for bringing you to him.

His smirk is devilish as he pulls his fingers from you and pumps himself a few times and pulls your body closer down to his awaiting cock.

He sees the apprehension on your face and smiles. “Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit.”

You nervously try to close your legs but he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly making you whine, “your pussy is mine, angel. Don't hide it from me."

You whine and let him spread your legs.

He grabbed his cock and spread your release along his aching length. He pressed his tip to your folds and rubbed it back and forth, from clit to your entrance making you writhe in overstimulation.

In a moment of slight panic realizing what was about to happen you brought your hands up to his chest to try and push him away.

“Wait Heeseung..I don’t think I’m ready..”

“Stop thinking angel, just let me think for you,” He smirks and you feel his mushroom tip stretching you as he pressed inside of you slowly. He lifted the bottom of your dress to your chest so he wouldn't miss the view.

You hissed and he went deeper, pushing a little at a time. He pushed your body down on the altar flat on your back as he pushed into your walls further. Your nails scraping the marble under you and tears filled your wide eyes as you felt him reach the thin barricade of your virginity. This was it, there wasn't any coming back from this. You took a shaky breath, your body was trembling underneath him, he moaned loudly as he ripped right past it and you choked out a sob when you felt it break.

God, forgive me.

You let out a small pained whimper as he continued stretching you to your limit, the further he pushed in the more painful it was. Finally, he reached the hilt inside your tight virgin hole. His pelvis pressed right against yours.

He stayed buried inside your heat as he leaned down and placed a tender soft kiss on your lips. Nipping at your bottom lip and slithering his tongue past the barrier and exploring your mouth trying to distract you from the discomfort. Your mouth was slack against his, the stretch was too painful to focus on anything else.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you grinning at the sight of the small bulge under your belly button where his cock was.

“You’re taking me so well angel,”

He pressed down on the bulge and watched you gasp out. “You feel that? God made you for me.” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck applying slight pressure.

You were shaking, the tears never stopped streaming down your reddened cheeks. He pulled out of you and you breathed a sigh of relief from the pain subsiding but he pushed back in you hard, causing another choked sob from your throat. He kept his thrusts at a fixed pace at first, easing himself in and out as you whimpered and writhed under him. He took a second to admire the way your body twisted against him. The more his cock filled you, the better it started to feel, the dull pain between your legs starting to fade into bliss.

He smiles proudly seeing you start to relax and let your body slowly start to rock against his.

“That’s it angel, fuck that little virgin pussy on me” He sped up his thrusts, moving his hand between the two of you and pressing his fingers down on your clit. Your back arches off the altar, “oh god!”

“Not God baby…say my name..scream it.”

You wrapped your thighs around him as he rocked into you harder. “Heeseung!”

Your eyes rolled back as your body was fully succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you. You could barely feel any pain anymore as he fucked harder and faster into you. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for leverage, “M-more…Hee-Heeseung, I need more..”

He groaned, watching you bounce against him, licking his lips, his pace picked up. “my angel wants more? You want me to fuck you harder baby?”

You nod, scraping your nails down his shoulders.

“Say it angel. Tell me what you want.”

He needed to hear it, he needed to hear the dirty words leave your mouth. He had to hear and see the vision of you he’s been so desperate to have.

Your wide teary eyes stare up at him, the silver cross necklace bouncing on your bare chest with every harsh thrust he gives only adds to the sinful sight.

“Fuck me..please fuck me, Heeseung.”

The sight and sound was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

He plunged into you without any restraint, no more holding back. You were like his very own fuckdoll now, your body was at his mercy. His fingers kept rubbing your clit, The noises escaping him were feral. He was lost to his own pleasure.

His thrusts grew even more ferocious as he hammered into you relentlessly. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced your head to look down where he was entering you.

“Do you see that angel? You’re all mine now,” he growled.

You clenched your jaw as you looked at the sight of his cock entering you at a fast pace. His entire pelvis was coated with your arousal, you could see a small hint of your blood along his cock.

He noticed it too, it only made him want to fuck your harder.

“Say it, say you’re mine,”

"I-I'm y-yours!"

You hugged him with your legs, clinging to his shoulders as you came again. Your walls squeeze him tight as you released yourself on his cock. "I’m going to cum, angel,” He mumbled against your open mouth. He threw his head back and you felt the spurts of warmth bloom within you. He let his head hang back for a moment before he looked at you and slowly pushed your body back down onto the altar. He stayed inside of you, looking down at your fucked out body. His hand glided over your trembling thighs. Leaning down on top of you he kisses along your collarbone as you continue to shake from your orgasm.

You both stayed in each other's arms panting for a few more minutes, his lips leaving soft kisses along your sweaty skin. He hears you sniffle and pulls away. Your face is tilted back as you stare at the large cross above the both of you as silent tears stream down your face. He only smirks, he won.

Your arms are still wrapped around him, he takes your left arm and removes it from him, breaking you out of your trance. Gently grabbing your wrist he brings your hand to his mouth and slips your ring finger into his mouth and uses his tongue to aid him in removing the silver purity ring. He holds the once sacred jewelry between his teeth with a cocky grin and spits it out. You cringe hearing the metal clink and bounce off of the marble altar down to the wooden floor.

“You definitely can’t wear that anymore, angel.” He rubs his large hands over your thighs and up to your stomach. “You don’t belong to God anymore.” He pulls out of you and smiles watching the creamy mess leak out of you and fall onto the sacred altar. You whine loudly when he dips a finger into your sore hole, he scoops a small amount of both of your releases and taps your lips. You open obediently and let him slip the mixture into your mouth. “You belong to me now.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚Yeah, this was def supposed to be more plot than porn but uhhh yeah that didn't really happen....oops. I have a perm taglist and my WIP is updated, let me know if you want to join 🫶🏼ੈ✩‧₊˚

#enha smut #enhypen smut #lee heesung x reader #lee heesung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung fanfic #heeseung #hoonieshoney #kpop smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hyung line #honeys dark content #I beg save me

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holybibly · 3 months

Text

𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.

𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.

𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.

You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary," before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed.

Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives. The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner.

"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.

You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted.

It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair.

"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once.

The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.

There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.

The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.

One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.

As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.

"Hello, my dear."

You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."

"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.

Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.

"Something like that."

"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.

"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.

Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.

"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?

"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.

"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.

Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?

"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.

"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.

Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.

"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"

"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."

There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.

His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?

"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."

"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.

"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."

A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.

"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."

"F-Father…"

"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "

You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"

"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.

Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.

"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."

He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.

"Shall I show you?"

"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.

"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"

You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.

He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.

"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?

He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.

"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.

The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.

"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.

He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.

"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.

"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."

"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.

"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.

You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.

You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.

"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."

You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.

As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.

Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.

"You have to undress completely, darling."

You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.

"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.

You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.

"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.

"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."

The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.

"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.

"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.

"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.

"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."

You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."

It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.

"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth.

Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.

"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.

Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.

He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.

"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.

"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"

You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."

You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.

"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.

"Look at me, my darling."

Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.

Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.

"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.

"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.

"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.

God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.

From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.

He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.

He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.

"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."

You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.

He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.

His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.

"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."

He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.

"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.

"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.

All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".

"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."

Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.

You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.

"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.

You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.

Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.

"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."

You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.

"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."

"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.

"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.

"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.

"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.

"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.

You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.

The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.

He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.

"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.

With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.

"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."

He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.

Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.

And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.

"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."

From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.

"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.

"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"

You lowered your eyes in shame.

He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."

"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."

"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."

Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.

It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.

"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.

"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.

He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.

"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.

"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.

Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.

"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"

"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.

"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.

Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind. "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."

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violettaskies · 1 year

Text

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.

Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.

Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.

As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.

So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.

‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.

It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.

All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.

If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?

-:-:-:-:-

As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.

It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.

“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.

But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.

The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.

Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.

There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.

Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.

“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.

Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.

It worked.

“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”

“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.

“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.

As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”

So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.

Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.

“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.

“If something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.

He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do.”

“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.

You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”

It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.

-:-:-:-:-

By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.

It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.

What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —

“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.

“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.

“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.

Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”

“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.

You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.

“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.

He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.

“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.

“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”

Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.

“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”

“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.

“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.

“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.

Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.

“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”

“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.

“Shopping?” you ask innocently.

“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.

Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.

The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”

“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”

“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.

“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”

You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.

“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.

He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.

One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.

-:-:-:-:-

As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.

Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.

Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.

The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.

Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.

Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.

So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.

Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.

You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”

“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.

“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”

It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”

“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.

“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”

“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.

“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.

You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”

“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.

“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”

“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”

“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.

When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.

Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.

What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.

Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?

Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.

A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.

He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.

“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.

“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”

You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.

“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.

“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”

If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.

While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.

These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.

-:-:-:-:-

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 5 months

Note

can you share links to some of your posts about sexual morality? the link in your faq wasn't working for me

Hi yes! I recommend wandering through my #sex tag and #premarital sex tag for general stuff.

Maybe also #purity culture and #embodied theology.

(I do want to note that if you go deep far down into some of those tags, you'll find some stuff from, like, 2015 that I don't endorse anymore. I don't think there's anything I'd completely reject, but I used to be more neutral/hand-wavy about sex stuff than I am now. My views have changed over time! So check the timestamps lol)

A few specific posts:

Unlearning fear and shame around sex

What's the Bible "say" about premarital / extramarital sex?

Another post unpacking some purity culture & extramarital sex stuff

Finally, my blog probably isn't the best place to find some solid theology affirming how sex can be holy! Places like Queer Theology delve into that a lot deeper than I do — like this article of theirs about masturbation or this one about unlearning sexual shame.

There's also Nadia Bolz-Weber's work around bodies and shame.

I also remember the episode "Does God Hate My Sex Life?" of the "Lord Have Mercy" podcast being influential for me a few years ago. In it, Crystal Cheatham assigns "homework" — praying while masturbating!

I am only partway through it, but I also recommend the book I Heart Sex Workers for some theology around sex work.

If anyone else has resources exploring sex as sacred / sex-positive theologies, please share!

#sex tag

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munsonsskinnyjeans · 2 years

Text

UNGODLY

THE SC IN THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES:

!fem! reader is 18, talk of losing virginity, mentions of self masturbation, pervert Jason, hand job, penetrative sex, (fem receiving), teasing, breast play, fingering, dirty talk, hickies, corruption kink, lots of talk about religion (Christianity), mommy kink, consumption of fluids, begging, hair pulling, (cum only), degrading/praising, !DOM READER X SUB JASON! Use of the words: pervert, baby, sweetheart, sweetie, sugar.

y/n sat back next to the one and only Jason Carver she had her legs crossed so it wouldn't reveal the contents underneath her best church dress.

the blue and white floral print stopping at the middle of her knee caps and a white cardigan was neatly worn over it to show less skin almost as a sign of a respect to the man who died on the cross.

Her eyes glanced over at Jason who had his eyes closed like the rest of the people filling the wooden rows of seats.

"what are you doing?" He hissed gesturing to y/n's feet a blatant sign of disrespect to God.

"What the fuck does it look I'm doing?" She bit back folding her arms watching Jason close back his eyes his hands rested flat onto each other

"that's disrespectful y/n show some respect"

he gestured to the man on the cross that rested in-front of them behind the pastor preaching something from the cherished brown book resting on the snow colored podium.

she rolled his eyes at the comment watching his lips moving to form the words the pastor was saying,

When the prayer ended everyone opened their eyes sinking back into their seats she could feel Jason's eyes lingering on her body from the flats on her feet to the white headband resting in her hair,

he looked away shifting in his seat, he was about to speak but his mother took away the chance saying her own series of words,

"kids we have some adult time from 5-12 you should be fine at their house right with y/n"

y/n bit down slightly on her tongue thinking about the fact she would have to spend the next 8 hours alone with Jason probably being his shitty baby sitter even though they were both 18.

she wasn't happy about it but yet almost intrigued of course she had been to the carvers house but never for this long maybe she'd fine one of Jason's secrets something about how his mind worked intrigued y/n her mind forced her to think about it constantly.

she forced a pearly smile onto her face straightening her dress out and clapping her hands together down in-front of her stomach.

y/n pulled out the Bible from underneath the row showing her the pink ribbon her mother bought her that she used as a bookmark for a Bible she barely touched.

"I have the perfect chapter we can start with" y/n spoke her hands tapping on the Bible pressed into her hands.

"Isn't she an angel?" Y/n's father asked resting a hand onto her shoulder she could feel the palm squeeze down onto her shoulder shaking her lightly.

"Yes she really is I'm sure you two will have fun doing your study" his mother replied with a joyful smile eager to see how well y/n was behaved.

Y/n laid back onto her bed she watched Jason sit back into the chair pulling out his Bible resting it onto the cotton white color of her desk spinning around in the light pink desk chair of hers his legs man spread while he tugged on the collar of his polo shirt.

Y/n held a magazine in her hands flipping threw the shiny pages delicately once again his eyes were lingering all over her body she could feel them practically burning into her skin,

she of course had changed from her church clothes into a little more something her she was glad to have brought a bag with a change of clothes so she could get out of the unbreathable itchy shit her mom forced her to wear

but she still never complained to keep her image up.

She was purposefully wearing a plaid skirt that she knew was a little to short for her it was so short that when she bent over you could see the cherry red color lace of her panties.

Jason looked up at y/n who stood up 'accidentally' knocking an object from his dresser.

his eyes trailed down to the panties now visible when she bent over the imprint of her ass flashing him ever so slightly a dry feeling in his mouth and yet he still felt like he could drool at the sight.

He had fantasies about y/n ever so crazy fantasies to say he could imagine her tits pressed against him while he fucked her into an oblivion.

he had the wet dream of pushing her up against the desk in an empty classroom imagining the feeling of her hand wrapped around his cock ever so delicately wondering how much her mouth could take of him or even the fact he wondered what her pussy would feel like.

He could imagine it'd be warm and soaked for him that she would clench around his cock so hard he would be afraid to pull out in fear of not being able to slide back in.

Jason was a virgin but it didn't stop him from jacking off, he started to simple porn like the women who flashed their perky tits in play boy magazines or he tried jerking off to the thought of them but it didn't work

nothing would get him more hard than y/n nothing even would rile him as much as her. Just the thought of her tits or maybe even seeing what she wore underneath her best church dresses was a mystery to him a mystery that turned him on so much he would jerk off to the fantasy of it.

the thought of her short skirts that raised up almost so high sometimes you could see the lace of her underwear.

He could croak out his muffled sobs into his elbow begging for forgiveness with every stroke on his cock and every dirty thought he had of her,

he liked feeling the ribbons of cum shoot all over his chest leaving him tingling and in need of another shower.

Y/n put her Bible away into the drawer sitting on her bed she crossed her legs watching Jason's eyes trade down to the flesh onto her thighs,

"what about our Bible study?" He stammered nervously watching y/n shift a little

her nipples were visible threw the white tank top she was wearing the outline of her perky tits was driving him crazy

"I'm not doing that bull shit" y/n scoffed rolling her eyes.

"Then what are we doing?" Jason stammered

Jason could feel her straddle him on the desk chair he thought this was some sort of sick mind game his brain was playing on him "mmm baby look" she spoke her hand reaching down to palm his boner

"Tell me Jason do you ever have fantasies or thoughts like this?" She whispered into his ear hearing him let out another soft whimper for her.

"I- um it's dirty y/n what about" he pointed to the cross that hung on his wall right above his bed.

"Tell me" she grabbed the tightness in his pants feeling him let out another whine at her touch, he was so needy for more he prayed inside of his head for his sins before he managed to croak out a yes

"Jason tell me more I want to hear everything you can pray away your sins after or during I don't care" she gave him doe eyes almost like an act of innocence like she was the angel everyone had perceived her out to be but y/n was basically the complete opposite,

"w-well I-" he was croaking from the pressure of his cock throbbing inside his pants he looked down at it before looking at y/n who had her tits in her hands her nipples peeked threw the thin white fabric.

"c'mon spit it out" she huffed at him pouting her lip.

"it's only about a girl, that's all" he couldn't even look her in the eyes anymore from how ashamed he was feeling this way,

"tell me more about this girl is it Chrissy?" she watched Jason's cheek turn to a crimson red the color of her mothers roses in the garden his eyes looked away and back to her tits like he was drawn to them

"oh baby is it me is that your little crush?"

Jason bit his lip letting out a exasperated groan like he had been holding it in for decades y/n lifted his chin up so he would look up into her eyes instead of her perked nipples and the cleavage visible threw the neck line cut out of her shirt.

"y-yes" Jason answered her question feeling her hand pat him on the cheek softly with a cheeky smirk she moved her hands down to fumble with his belt hearing the metal clank against the desk chair and onto the hardness of the wooden tile floor.

her hands slipped down his khakis so gently he barely even felt it under her hands had tore off his boxers revealing how hard he truly was for her.

"god you're pathetic Jason" she huffed gripping his cock in one of her hands harshly she felt it twitch under the pressure of her hand

his hands wandered to hold onto her waist which she quickly slapped away "I didn't say you could touch me you don't do anything unless you ask" she hissed at him brushing a piece of his golden locks away from his forehead.

He could feel his body heating up with the varsity jacket still wrapped tightly around his body and with every stroke of her hand on his cock it felt like the room was shrinking

like the air was being ripped from it, like y/n was greedily consuming all of the air but he enjoyed it he liked being told what to do and how to do things it's what he had been told his entire life.

She let out a mouthful of her warm spit onto his cock he felt it cover the tip mixing with the pre-cum he had leaking from inside him he let out a whine at the warm sensation bucking his hips upwards for her to even just touch him,

she chuckled at his neediness before forming her hands around his cock sliding up and down so viciously that he gripped both sides of the chair

his head thrown back so far he felt his neck was going to be snapped in half while his body trembled ever so slightly under her sloppy touch,

"look at me" she ordered watching his head turn back to face her his eyes met hers his pupils dilated at the sight of y/n on her knees playing with his dripping cock laced with her spit this was even better than his fantasies.

She was teasing him so well to see if he would snap at her maybe get rough with her but in all truth Jason never had that kind of courage

he was a fucking pathetic virgin.

Y/n licked a stripe up his cock almost like he was a lollipop she had been dying to try, she fit his full cock into her mouth feeling her eyes prickle with tears while she bobbed her head feeling her knees start to ache against the cold floor

Jason's hands wanted to wander maybe to reach underneath her skirt or to reach out to grab those pretty tits of hers but what was more important was the fact he was about to shoot his load down her pretty throat,

"f-fuck please let me cum please" he was begging his hands banging pathetically against the arm rests of the chair so hard he was in fear he'd break it.

Y/n hummed a yes against his cock her nails digging into the moaning mess of a boys bare thigh her nails leaving soft crescent shape imprints.

She could feel the warm sensation of his salty cum being shot down her throat he watched her pull away swallowing the load from him before wiping her lips clean making sure to lick her fingers clean.

Jason was left whimpering and sensitive he was also left wanting more of her dirty touch.

"m-mommy please" he choked on his words accidentally spilling out another one of his dirty fantasies to her, yet she hadn't mind except she felt something flutter in her pussy hearing the words.

"could you get anymore needy big boy?" She whispered aloud yanking him by his jacket up out of the chair and onto his dark blue bed sheets

the ones he had just changed from grey to blue last night because he left his pathetic white ribbons all over the dark cotton.

She stripped off the rest of the clothes until he was fully exposed yet Jason didn't say anything except he was whining at her whining as a signal for her to touch him,

he watched y/n tease him by stripping off her clothes until she was only left in the cheeky red thong of her panties.

"what's my name Jason come on don't be shy" she had her hands resting so diligently on the side of his throat that he lifted his head back so she'd give him more of just the subtle touch of her fingers.

"mommy" he gulped his eyes looking into hers the light blue now covered by the darkness of his pupils that had increased inside finally seeing her true bare form sitting in-front of him.

"what do you want Jason? Do you want me to fuck you right here?"

He was so pathetic that he couldn't even let out more than a low whimper reaching out to touch her but she pinned down his hands against the mattress watching him lick his chapped lips.

"I'm gonna need more than a dirty whine baby"

"Please m-mommy fuck me!" Jason whimpered louder feeling y/n rest her hands on the abs chiseled into his torso slipping off the fabric of her thong and resting down her cunt onto his cock taking in just the tip to tease her with her flowing juices.

He gripped the bed sheets because he knew he was so eager to feel her pussy sink down on his cock but he also knew it came at a price

not only would the golden haired boy lose his virginity in perhaps the most sinful way but he would half to beg in order to get what he craved to get the type of attention and touch he needed.

She had decided she liked hearing his whimpers, she'd listen to them all day if she could because the rumbling sound of his raspy voice filled the room with lustful sin.

yet y/n was enjoying every part of breaking her "angel streak" like she was finally breaking free from the life her parents forced her to live.

"beg for me Jason I want to hear it" she let out a low moan teasing her entrance on his cock feeling her juices mix with the spit and cum leftover on his cock.

"please fuck me mommy I can't take the teasing anymore it's fucking killing me" Jason whined loudly at the girl.

the sound of his begging sent a flutter down her stomach and into her pussy just as his knuckles turning a bright white while he gripped the thin cotton fabric of his bed sheets.

Without warning y/n sank down fully onto his cock embracing all of his length inside of her dripping cunt, she started to jump up and down holding onto the flat surface of Jason's torso feeling his abs skim over the tips of her finger tips.

"Please let me touch you" Jason whined looking up at y/n's tits bouncing right in-front of him almost like he was surrounded by lust he couldn't keep himself away from he was wanting to touch every part of her.

he wanted to run his coarse hands down her body to explore her learn more about how good it felt to partake in her sin.

"touch me pretty boy come on you can do it" y/n croaked out feeling the tip of his cock reach her inner stomach filling her pussy to the brim,

she had never expected Jason to be this big in all of her fantasies she had dreamed about Jason fucking her into an oblivion finally breaking through his layer of innocence.

But this was even better hearing him beg to be touched turned her on more than anything she had ever heard it was almost just enough for her to cum.

She could feel Jason's cock twitch inside of her knowing he was close to spilling his seed.

"mommy please let me cum" he begged pathetically while his hands roamed her body squeezing her delicate breasts and skimming his fingers over her sensitive nipples.

"oh f-fuck cum for me" y/n gasped feeling her own orgasm chasing just seconds behind her.

Her eyes started to roll into the back of her head so far she could probably see her rotten brain her legs trembled like the ground in Hawkins during an earthquake

she spazzed all of her juices onto his shakey cock feeling his warm seed fill up her greedy cunt that clenched around him to take in all of his sticky embrace.

"Fuck!" He shouted hearing y/n pant slowly slipping off of his cock and leaving him coated in their juices mixing together, "Jason" she mumbled still dazed and slightly cock drunk.

She was on her stomach her back arched while she reached out slowly with her mouth to lick him clean of the juices flooded on his member licking her lips clean from the desirable taste.

Jason's hands had let go of her breasts now looking at the marks he had left from gripping them so harshly "oh god i-i'm so sorry" he gasped looking at the redness that appeared on her body.

Y/n smiled feeling her pussy accidentally skim his cock when she laid back, "don't apologize" she whispered to him her fingers playing with the edge of his golden tips, he was still out of breath.

"what am I gonna do with you pretty boy?"

#jason carver smut #jason carver x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut

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papirouge · 6 months

Text

man, I wish Christian natalists wouldn't get so predator-enabling/breeder fetishy whenever they speak...

I was watching a videos about a Christian woman making a testimony of her pregnancy with risks, "putting back" together her ligated tubes, and explaining how the Bible says we should have as many children as God decides and not us (so no contraception), and yeah why not

but THEN she got like "why would God make girls to have their period at 10 if it wasn't to have children? Why would women wait until they're in their late 20s-30 (the average age of women getting their first child)?"

IDK girl, probably for the same reason grown women aren't sexing barely pubescent boys to get impregnated just bc they virtually can? ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

and then she explains she's from middle east and that her aunts/grandmother married respectively at 17 and 12 years old. Interestingly she didn't tell about their husbands age...🙃 ...and we all know how these marriage with weird age gap work in middle east... Even if Mary was 14 when she got pregnant like some pedo apologists argue (we never have evidence of that ofc), nothing says that Joseph was an old scrote old enough to be her dad.

She was like "yeah these marriage weren't perfect but they worked uwu" sticking into a marriage = marriage "working". Those marriage lasted because those women didn't have much alternative back then. Their backing support wasn't the same as those of modern/Western societies. Same in the West (because she also brought up old school family model with 8-10 kids). I mean, I'm ok for dunking on the sexual revolution as much as you want, but let's not act like access to a bank account, divorce and work didn't facilitate women nope'ing out of having big families. My grandparents stayed together until my grandpa died but I wouldn't say their marriage worked just because of that. Was she happy? Was she fulfilled? THOSE are the things that make a marriage working. Otherwise the Bible wouldn't tell spouses to treat well & cherish each other until death. Otherwise sticking together until the end would be enough.

She ended saying "when they get theirs period, young girls start having their hormones working.... If one of my daughter tells me she's interested in (marrying) a man I wouldn't tell her no" and that's how I noped out lmao

The excuse "hormones working" is like the WORST reason to get into marriage. When Paul said marriage was better than sexual immorality (sex outside marriage, masturbation), it was about people who weren't fit for celibacy, not those eaten by their flesh and eager get married just to have a valid situation to get their peepee wet.... The same Paul who said to not trust the flesh...but suuuure tHe hOrmOnEs 🤪

Also note how the "why would girls get their periods that early if it wasn't to get children" actually works both ways: if God wanted women to have children at 14 (like OP said) why would He make women have periods until their 60s? 🤔 Why would He made the window the be able to be a mother so WIDE (~50 years)?🤔Why did He show through the Bible several examples of MATURE women (not barely pubescent girls) getting children?🤔 The math ain't mathing.

She says, concerning the difficulty of having big families in the modern time, that God knew about how the world would work and would helps us go through it and therefore there's no reason to take contraception. Okie dookie, then why get mad at women getting children at later age?? God is good so he inspired doctors to make pregnancy safer at older ages. Women are living longer. Women don't have to get pregnant at 14 to hope seeing their children and grandchildren before dying. Why is it a problem?? 🤔 The Bible does ADAPT to a bunch of different lifestyle, so why not embrace it instead of shoving ONE model of pregnancy? Paul said that the good news was about FREEDOM.

She also said "it's said Mary was 14 when she got pregnant with Jesus uwu" WE LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT AGE MARY WAS AND THAT'S BY DESIGN BECAUSE GOD DIDN'T WANT YALL WEIRDOS TO HAVE A WEIRD FIXATION WITH AGE TO BREED WOMEN. IT'S THE SAME WITH THE AGE OR DATE OF BIRTH OF JESUS AND CHRISTIANS SHOEHORNING THE CELEBRATION OF CHRISTMAS. GOD DISMISSED THOSE DETAILS ON PURPOSE BUT YOU GUYS ARE CONSTANTLY MISSING HIS POINT DESPERATELY TRYING TO CLING ONTO WHAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE RELEVANT TO BUILD YOUR THEOLOGY AND LIFE DECISION.

#Christian #papi watch

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impunkster-syndrome · 9 months

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wanted to ask

how do you not feel ashamed of your paras? /gen /pos , genuinely curious cause i'm so afraid of actually having a para that the line between attraction and intrusive thoughts is blurred

For me, it's a part of unwinding my fundamentalist christian upbringing.

I was taught to be entirely sexless before marriage. No sexual thoughts, acts, feelings. It was a sin. The sex education from my parents was a book about STDs and how having sex before marriage was a sin. I had no idea what masturbation was until I was around 17. I was told that sex is painful and a chore, and you have to do it for your husband without any sort of attraction. Romantic attraction got pulled into that by extension, as people from churches I went to have cut off contact with me after becoming attracted to me, and I saw people who were in high school courting (not dating, but it was also called "dating with purpose" because the aim is to marry young and often have as many kids as possible in an attempt to breed out nonbelievers via numbers) while I was in middle school. That is what purity culture is. It hides neglect and abuse in the name of keeping others "holy," and is the big reason why it is likely that I still cannot use tampons as an adult, am clueless about my own anatomy, cannot say certain words, and may even have my vaginal muscles tighten because of the trauma it has caused me as my body tries to keep anything going in out because of the trauma I have experienced. It's not a quirky fandom thing about media.

I've been deconverting for about four years now. All those years of suppression are being deconstructed and slowly lifted. It took me until last year to finally buy a vibrator and to acknowledge that pleasure is okay to experience and doesn't make me wasted goods to experience on my own. My hypersexuality has gotten more manageable with that as a management tool, along with being with someone who does not pressure me into sexual behavior or avoiding sexual behavior. As I heal from sexual trauma and start to see sex as something that can be enjoyed and not inherently immoral, that impacts how I see my intrusive thoughts too.

Intrusive thoughts when I was younger to me were any unwanted thoughts. With undiagnosed ADHD, controlling my thoughts was hell, even if they weren't intrusive. I'd imagine the white-bread version of Jesus (Because, surprise, surprise, no one said he was jewish and even those that did did not acknowledge he was 99.9% likely to not be white) blocking any thoughts I had of sex and attraction because of how distressing they were due to my faith. Now, I look back on that and cannot help but feel bad because those thoughts and feelings were not inherently bad. I was taught that they were, and it stunted my ability to handle those feelings in ways that were healthy.

I do think that my paraphilias being recognized as my experiences as an adult helps a lot in not feeling as much shame as I would have when I was younger. That isn't to say that I never experienced them. My masochism and appreciation of blood was found in middle school, but I didn't realize it was deviant because I never told anyone or felt as if I could express desire or urges at all in any capacity. It was pretty much my upbringing that shamed them out of me so now that I know I experience them it is harder to deal with. At the time, too, there was the whole belief of "sexual trauma makes you a predator" that I heavily internalized.

I started slowly with recovery. The little things. It wasn't a sin to like how I looked. It didn't make me vain inherently. I didn't need to pray or read my bible if it didn't make me feel safe. My emotions are not moral or immoral to experience. It snowballed from there to tackling bigger things like how subjective morality is and that a book from ages ago is a lot more morally grey than I was taught. That I was mislead about other religions and especially judaism. What a closed practice/religion was, and that in high school when I was forced to partake in passover, what I was doing was actually not okay for me, someone who is not jewish at all, to do. That deconstruction heavily overlapped with me walking away from the alt-right as well.

It's all very connected to me. I'm still making progress every day. Sometimes I slip. I lose ground and have to work on it more. But it's not a linear process that is overnight.

It is a pretty individual thing, especially since I know my case might not be the most normal baseline because of my upbringing. Start with what works for you.

#the blackbox askbox #pro para #anti radqueer #fluffy para #recoverypunk #ex fundie #hypersexuality

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francis-writes · 7 months

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heyy! i saw you wrote something for silas from the da vinci code a while ago and just in case you’re still writing for him i’d like to request a nsfw alphabet for him! tysm for the headcanons for him in general🫶🏻

Finally, a man of culture.

Also, if you want, on my old blog I wrote SFW Alphabet, Random dating headcanons and I have a x OC story with him (never finished, but there's about 14 chapters and some smut)

NSFW ALPHABET FOR SILAS

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He likes to be cuddled. He is a little spoon and he wants your arms around him and your fingers ruffling his hair. The experience was great but he really enjoys affection and reassurance that you love him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For so much time he was shamed and rejected for his body, that Silas can't honestly say that he likes any part of it. But if he had to choose, he would probably say hands. For how strong they are and how much he can do with them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… )

I don't wanna push agenda but, y'know, catholicism is one big breeding kink. He likes to cum inside you, it makes you feel closer. But he makes you keep menstruation calendar; or with reluctance he agrees to you taking The pills; bc you know, it's a SIN. But after all, he would accept anticonteption to make sure you don't get pregnant. Even if he leaves Opus Dei, he doesn't see himself as a father.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You are his dirty secret. For long time he keeps a relationship with you a secret, even when you didn't sleep with each other yet.

E= Experience

Silas has some experience with women from the times before he went to jail. he isn't completely clueless and has some basic knowledge about woman's body but he's also kind of lost and uneducated in these topics.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

As I mentioned, missionary or simply any position where he can look at your face.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Silas is deadly serious in almost any situation but maybe with you, he slowly learns to relax and smiles more often. Still, during sex he's mostly focused and serious.

H=Hair

He's not paying any attention to it but he barely has any hair there anyway.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's not a specialist in romantic game, but he does his best to make you feel good and loved. He kisses you and often asks if you're okay

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He practically never does it, if he wants some sin, he just goes to you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has a thing for BDSM. Usually he dominates you, chokes you, hits you, pins you to the bed, spits at you etc

But there's also a masochist in him. It takes some time, working through his traumas, before he lets you dominate him but eventually he enjoys when you "punish him for his sins"

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Your bed. Just somewhere private where Silas feels comfortable. He wants to keep your intimate life as far from other people as possible.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I'll be boring, but you. You teasing him, your body, your touch, your laugh. After years of taming his needs, he's like a can of gasoline, so easy to set ablaze.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As much as I love blasphemy, unfortunately Silas wouldn't allow any "religious play" in bed, like reading Bible out loud when you suck him off, or using rosaries/crosses for masturbation. He may abandoned vow of celibacy but he's still very religious and would send you to hell for such heresy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He's not a big fan of oral. I mean, he enjoys receiving it but he prefers to have better access to your body.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the moment, but usually more slow.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No. He needs to take his time with you. He would rather wait longer for a proper sex, than take you in hurry, without moment to focus on your body.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

You can ask him and he will consider, but most of the time Silas avoids trying new and unusual things. If you want to spice things up, you need to have patience. For now, the biggest risk is breaking the vow of chastity.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He's a strong man but your sessions are usually very passionate and tiring so maximum 2 rounds before he needs to rest.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Now excuse me, but he was raised catholic. And to be serious: no, he doesn't change his habits that much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can't wait tease, I am sorry. He didn't learn much in the art of sex. But when it's you teasing him, he usually either closes up and pretends it doesn't work on him or he takes you to the bed in 0.1 second.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He does his best to stay quiet, but he can't hold back gasps and moans.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It isn't always sexual, sometimes it's simple form of intimacy but he loves when you kiss his wounds. On the back, from self-flagellation. And on his thighs, from cilice (ok, kisses in this place usually make him want more)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

If I remember well, Silas is canonically hulky and well build, so his dick is probably massive as well, average length but thick.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Average. He likes sex but years of chastity teached him patience and ignoring carnal needs. So... he desires you but he doesn't have a big need for physical contact and he usually waits until you initiate something (until you start teasing him and drive him mad, he doesn't know what to do with himself so he looks for the nearest bed)

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually very quickly. A few minutes and he's snoring. Turns out sex is more tiring than killing heretics.

#da vinci code silas x reader #silas x reader #da vinci code silas #silas imagine #paul bettany imagine

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bakurapika · 1 year

Text

when i was a very christian kid with undiagnosed ocd and a focus on religiosity, i knew there were things required for "christian" behavior that weren't actually spelled out in the bible (i'm still not convinced that the obscure verse about spilling his seed is against masturbation). these were usually handwaved as being behavior the world thinks are inappropriate, and we need to keep our reputation clean to reflect god or whatever. with the caveat that jesus hung out with tax collectors and prostitutes so be nice to them

anyway i remember thinking very hard about why swear words aren't allowed. the closest justification i ever heard was another verse about keeping your actions/words/thoughts pure but that was so vague and arbitrary?

i realized that swear words (fuck) and words substituted for swear words (fudge, freak, eff, frig, frick, etc) were from an ethical standpoint identical. like there's nothing inherent in the word fuck that isn't applicable to the word fudge (when used as a swear)

so you'd think the next logical step would be to realize swearing is ok, right? but at that age it was still a religious tenant to trust your parents teachers etc and I couldn't call them liars.

so therefore, i decided that all swear words were morally wrong, including fudge.

i still remember there was a song from victorious or something called "freak the freak out" and i was sooo appalled (although i think i assumed it wasn't "freak the fuck out" but "fuck the fuck out" lol)

BUT, i can't attribute all of this to analytical tween me. i remember some teachers (religious private school) would be even stricter about it. I used to say "What the...!" because comics etc said that. I got in trouble for it once because a lot of bad words could follow that sentence. even when it was ok to say "what the heck" so. what the heck.

and some teachers wouldn't let you say "oh my gosh" because that was basically the same as "oh my god." even i thought that was stupid, because none of us ever prayed to Gosh. wtf

and in retrospect as an adult, i still don't really get the enforcement of censorship around the word God. because i honestly believe that most people think that's god's given name. Like God came into existence and was like "I AM GOD" the same way god might have said "CALL ME ISHMAEL" . so the commandment to not take the name of the lord your god in vain is "don't swear with 'god' because it's really rude to me, Mr. God, esquire"

in christianity we learned about all the different names of god, some being titles, some being actual names, so we knew that wasn't god's only name. but the way it's capitalized everywhere like a name... lol........

after leaving the religion, i did start using "jesus" as a swear which defeats this, because if god was god's given name, i would use that as a swear too. i know that might seem like "ohh im still being controlled by christianity, it's still present in my life" but like yeah it is. so being able to use those words casually is still big dick energy to me

in judaism btw people do censor "g-d" sometimes - my temple never does that, but i do it online as "gd" sometimes if im writing something specifically As A Jew About Judaism because i don't want to sound two-faced to someone who DOES believe in censoring "g-d." but even then, i never heard it as it being God's Real Name. just that the Name is censored for its holiness, but then the word referring to the name gets censored and people use another term even vaguer, and so on over the millennia. i really do believe that in another hundred years, people might start censoring hashem for the same reason

#christianity tw #religious trauma #yay

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josiebelladonna · 8 months

Text

Perform a word association exercise with the word “sex.”

Nausea. Discomfort. “Big deal”. “No big deal.” Deserving. Undeserving. A contest. Popularity. Anxiety. Depression. Trash. Garbage. Taboo. Caught. Emptiness. Blackness. Immaturity. Disillusioned. Bored. Boring. Boredom. Lame. Uncomfortable. Elusive. Anger. Heartache. Heartbreak. Headaches. Stomachaches. Achy joints. Diseases. Infections. Oversaturation. Annoying. Obnoxious. Violence. Mistrust. Traditions. Daydreams. Nightmares. Awfulness. Disgusting. Stupidity. Tears. Cutting. Hitting. Horror. Trauma. Crosses. Bibles. Eye rolls. Pathetic. Arrogance. Powerless. Hopeless. Useless. Listlessness. Indifference. Anxiety. Uncaring. Cruelty. “Point and laugh.” Ridicule. Tedium. Unsafe. Abuse. Trauma. Bullshit. Horseshit. Gun to my head. Children. Babies. Baby fever. Tools. Sterility. Fertility. Infertility. Pointless. Pleasureless. Mindless. Loveless. Lies. Liars. Ugly. Cold. Gross. Unnatural. Cringe. Avoidance. Pain.

Would you say that you have or have not had a strong sexual drive in your life? How does and did this level of sexual drive affect your intimate relationships?

I don’t have a strong sex drive. In fact, I don’t think I ever had a sex drive. I barely masturbate, and the times I do, it has not given me any good feelings. Maybe… fleeting feelings of lust but it was nothing strong or powerful, though. It always wells up only to go away again. I just ask myself, “why bother? There’s no one here tickling my fancy, so why bother developing something that somewhat resembles to an appetite.” I know I’m not asexual because I have actually felt it before.

I’m not a sexual being. I’m a lonely person with creepy tendencies. I’m not a sexy person, and I have never seen myself as such when I think about it.

Growing up, I just told people I was straight because I didn’t want them to know that I’m actually not. But… I do love men, though. I really love men, actually. I think men are absolutely gorgeous and decadent and sexy. Hell, I have a crush on a man right now. But I also love women, and nonbinary people. I landed on pansexual. It’s good to know that there’s a name for it, but I still have so much shame and anxiety and frustration about it. I can’t picture myself with someone, no matter what gender they are, out of both the fact that I’m just terrible at meeting someone and the fact that my severe lack of libido scares me. I’m frustrated by the mere presence of my own sexuality that I don’t know what to do with it and I have disowned it. It’s not mine and it never was mine to begin with. I want you to make fun of it because I know it’s stupid. You’re not gonna hurt my feelings by pointing and laughing, if anything I expect it. “It’s natural, enjoy yourself!” If it’s so fucking natural, why does no one care about it?

What struggles have you had with your sexuality?

I just keep hitting my head against the wall with these stupid, cringe questions in the hope that they should be helping me unpack the shame but they only make me feel worse because I remember how much of a fool I am. I vent but I find no way out of it. The suggested way out of it is so hackneyed that I don’t even want to bother trying it. There has to be a better way.

I don’t know how to feel comfortable with my desires and every time I try and seek out advice on how to feel more comfortable with them, it just… doesn’t feel good enough. The fact I seek out advice should say that I want to feel comfortable, but it’s not enough. The other thing is I have very specific taste. I read erotica or kink and there’s just so much more of it every time I turn around it seems, and none of it gets me rolling. Maybe I’m just picky, i’ll admit it.

When I was a teenager, no one ever made a pass on me, and I don’t understand why this is so hard to understand, either. Girls didn’t like me, period, and boys always gave me that awkward little smile whenever our eyes met. I didn’t actually start getting looks until about two years ago. I never dressed the part: I didn’t have to, even though I did consider it at times.

I feel so much shame about my sexuality that I find it hard to even so much as move some days. It’s a dead weight on my chest that makes it hard to breathe. Sex is just… something I don’t think about, and something I actually don’t want, either, like when I really think about it, I can take it or leave it. “It’s a beautiful, natural thing!” I see help bloggers tell me. Is it really, though? What’s beautiful about the hordes of consequences to it? What’s beautiful about having your body violated? What’s beautiful about the inability to orgasm, either by nature or outside circumstances catching up to you? What’s beautiful about putting your faith in someone else and your relationship with them can end randomly at any time? Call me cynical, but I can’t think about sex or relationships without thinking about the worst parts of it.

I don’t think about it all the time because I really have no reason to. I get no questions or interest in this part of me anyway, so why bother? And whenever I do, it’s always presumptuous. Everyone always thought I was seeing someone and they were shocked when I said I was single. Now I get absolutely nothing. I’m not saying I miss being interrogated like that—and the day I do is the day we’re all fucked—but why should I even bother putting inventory in something that no one cares about and I find unpleasant to talk about on top of that. It’s unpleasant. My sexuality is unpleasant and worth no one’s time. Not an iota of good feelings or memories to be found here. No, it’s all shit. It’s all garbage.

I always befriended guys, too, and everyone always thought we were “a relationship” (never was, though, it was all platonic), so when I befriended more, I would hear words like “player” or “not like the other girls” or “secretly lesbian” thrown my way when none of it was true. It got lonely really quick.

Another struggle is labeling it. OH GOD THIS. That whole phase I went through in 2021-2022 consisted of nothing but this, and i’m admittedly back there again. It always feels like I have a gun to my head, too, like I’m supposed to figure out a label and NOW. They’ll tell you to take your time with it and, believe me I did. But when you’re changing labels like people change their socks, and you’re surrounded by people who are just soooo comfortable in their fucking precious sexuality, it becomes less reassuring so fast. “But you’re not alone!” I have really grown to dislike the whole “you’re not alone” mantra mainly because it’s everywhere. You see the same word or phrase over and over again that it loses meaning.

I think my desires are trash and I don’t see eye to eye with the “real” raunchy people on this, either. I’m supposed to just be into good ol fashioned missionary and cowgirl and doggy style and maybe some light bdsm, any other kinks are weird and gross.

In what ways do you nurture your personal sense of sexuality, and/or sexual relationships?

I have no relationship. Never have, never will, either. I guess I just have too many biases about sex and sexuality, and I don’t know how to undo them, either. I don’t know how to nurture my sexuality, if anything I just want to leave it to waste. I don’t care about it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to care about it.

I guess… I draw. I draw what I love. I draw to exemplify the female gaze (and no one seems to understand that, either: to other people, I just “draw musicians” when I don’t. I do plenty of other things). I write. …I live on a mountain top, 20 minutes away from a trump bastion. I have no options.

I like jewel tones. I like odd colors like bright pink and green. I like black and white. I like stuff that’s form-fitting and also low-slung jeans: I do not like anything high-waisted unless it’s worn with crop tops, otherwise I hate it. I don’t get why everyone clutches at themselves at the mere mention of anything low-rise. I like denim and leather and silk and velvet and corduroy. I like stuff that’s low cut—leftover from being heavy and struggling with weight most of my life as I’ve tried to wear T-shirts and the collar always feels like it’s choking me. I like camisoles. I like pajamas. I like underwear: as much as I cringe at the thought of wearing lingerie, I do like just wearing a bra, and I do have a teddy in my closet. I like to wear jeans: I have never felt good in a dress before, aside from the flannel Patagonia ones I used to wear when I was little. I dunno, I find most dresses a bitch to walk around in and sit in, and I hate how skirts always wants to blow up (I’ve lived in windy areas my whole life): those flannel ones were short enough I could play around in them without having to put on pants, but they were warm and soft.

After a shower, I let my hair hang down for a few hours before I brush it: if I haven’t showered in a few days, I comb my bangs up into this pompadour upon my head so I have this Dennis Miller thing going until I feel like climbing into the shower for another round. My mom says I look like I came from the beach. Only makeup I have is chapstick and nail polish: when I was little, I’d put on lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara but I look like a cross between a clown and a hooker. “You’d be so much prettier, though!” No, I’m not, trust me.

Is all of this supposed to make me feel sexy? I feel like I’m missing something here.

Nope, sorry, I can’t touch myself and feel an ounce of pleasure. I touch my lips and my breasts, and I’m having a hard time seeing pleasuring myself as an art, too—I don’t know, it’s hard to put my head around it. What’s artful about sticking my finger up my clit to stimulate myself even though I know I won’t enjoy it?

My body? What about it? It was very skinny, it got very overweight, and now it’s losing weight. Any questions?

Why should I play dress up when I don’t get any attention? Dress for myself… I watch project runway and I really don’t see eye to eye with fashion, what’s considered “high fashion”: I don’t know if I just have piss poor taste or if fashion really is bullshit.

Write about your first sexual experiences. Interpret sexual experience any way like, even it’s about you first kiss.

“Even if it’s about your first kiss” I love how this assumes that everyone who does these things have had their first kiss, like yes, everyone gets some no matter how undesirable, unattractive, and fucked up they are.

There was the first time I touched myself. I was very young—I would think all children do this when they’re extremely young. I was in front of a mirror and I opened my legs and looked at myself there. I touched my clit the first time and I remember it really tickled me. I felt my labia and even stuck a finger or two in.

I did it in front of my conservative grandmother and she swatted my hand. 27 years ago or not, I remember it.

Write about your last sexual experience. How was it different from your first sexual experience?

So I’m (attempting, anyway) to make a habit of putting my hand down my shorts to touch myself while I’m just watching tv, much like how I like to pump my dumbbells when I’m being idle. First time I did it was weird. It tickled and I unlocked some odd feelings within me, and I don’t know if it was arousal at all: I felt a lot of anxiety, a lot of nausea, a lot of old often painful memories. I don’t know if I’m going with it all this week, simply because I don’t know if it did anything positive.

But I just did it while I was watching tv, like I didn’t even think about it. Fingertips and fingernails on my clit, that was it—my mom was in the room, too.

What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you needed to know?

Sex ed from middle school onwards, plus I was told that all guys don’t care about me and just want to get in my pants over and over by my drug addict father. I was never told about pleasure or anything good or that kinks are good or the range of sexual orientations or anything genuinely useful. Just your standard “insert penis into vagina, don’t have babies until you’re ready and only do it to have a baby” and that was it. It was always having babies, too, like god forbid you ever want to have sex because it’s fun or what have you.

I was also bombarded by these messages of “don’t be promiscuous or a slut, don’t get a reputation, no one will want you otherwise” and “girls aren’t supposed to want sex because it’s gross and not ladylike.” Level up and always be ladylike or no one will love you. You have to always be ladylike and proper. I also heard bullshit like “if you have sex, you WILL get pregnant, FACT.” (i.e., the whole “men force abortion on women” thing that pro-life feminists claim is science fiction to me)

I was also always told “if you have sex, you’ll contract a disease, guarantee it”. Cue the nausea whenever someone asks me about some sex life that I allegedly have because apparently fucking everyone has a fucking sex life and yet nobody told me. I can’t win.

How has your views of sex changed over time?

My view of it is… cynical, to say in the least. I’m kind of, admittedly, starting to get the whole “reclaim your sexuality” thing, but I just because I’m starting to get it doesn’t mean I’m feeling in my power, though. I have no frickin power (lol, I said “frickin”). And I still hate the phrase “sexual being” for the same reason as before: everyone says it but the meaning is elusive and everyone assumes you should just know what it means. The future is not bright on this level, like i can’t put my head around the idea of someone wanting me.

I found those other questions (the one with the question that asks about vibrancy and I’m scratching my head about it) from some psychologist and those have helped me more than these: those are more specific and I can just look back on the past week, whereas these always made me angry.

The whole concept of “desirability” is completely alien to me, like no one ever told me about this until just recently. No. I’m not desirable and I never have been, either.

Describe a sexual fantasy you have.

Something with merfolk and the beach. It’s a story that’s always crossed my mind but I have never really had the time or energy to write it out.

Turn a sexual experience into a piece of short fiction. Describe the setting. Use dialogue. Write erotic description.

When you’re so inexperienced that even this feels in vain. I honestly envy people who can write things like erotic memoirs.

Write about the best sex partner you have ever been with. Describe a special time together.

She had five fingers, all without polish on the nails, which were a bit short and freshly trimmed. Her skin was smooth, a little dry but smooth.

I hadn’t been touched in some time and yet, while laying in bed one morning, those fingers wandered down to my belly button for a gentle caress. When I rolled over onto my back, she worked her way down to inside my underwear for a touch. She ever so gentle scratched me on the hood and it felt interesting. Neither good nor bad, but interesting. It got me thinking.

(Got really tired of saying I’m a virgin all the time)

What changes if any would you like to make about your sexual self?

All of it. I want to change all of it. This is supposed to be pleasurable, right? Why am I so anxious?

I have no control. I have no sense of a grasp on it. I hardly ever think about it. I’m desperately trying—and failing—to figure out what I want and need. I hate that I have no sex drive once I really, really think about it—and I swore I did. I can’t handle myself. I have NO self-esteem in this area. And I’m so depressed about all of this that I find I’m just so completely overwhelmed by this.

Write a sexual confession to your partner or someone you admire. Be straight forward or as kinky as you would like.

I have a crush on you. That’s all I have to say. I don’t know how you’re going to react to me from here on out, and I also don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I have to be blunt now. I have a crush on you. I have no control whatsoever, but I have a crush on you. It’s stupid, I know.

What would you like to learn about your sexual self?

Really, just… why am I like this? That was a criticism I saw of my cartoons when I first started making them was “why do they look like that?” And I wish I could say more than “they just do.”

I have the worst luck with relationships—I really mean it: I didn’t start getting looks until a couple of years ago, NO ONE looked at me and I never believed it when someone told me about that boy checking me out (there never was any boy). I have never been asked out, only fixed up and spent a weekend with a friend that was jokingly treated as a date.

What is there to learn here? Why I’m so bad at this? I can tell you that without even thinking twice about it: no one ever encouraged me. I grew up with the most backwards views on sexuality and there’s no end in sight even as I’ve grown up.

I’m not a sexual person. I just heard so many bad things and stories about sex and sexuality along the way that I fucking refuse to ever believe that it can even be a source of pleasure. I heard so many times to look away whenever two people kissed or that any romance was met with eye rolls (but you know, feel free to kiss out in public: cue the confusion). What does it mean to even be desirable, like what the fuck is that?

I have such specific tastes, like i can’t read anything erotic without wondering how it fits with what I like, and it never does.

I guess… my values? But I did that before—they’re love, curiosity, well-being, quality, autonomy, and fun—but I don’t feel good about it, though.

Really, the best way to look at my sexuality is to look at my art, because I draw what I love and what I find interesting. And yet no one seems to understand this. I remember when my dad pulled me aside and told me I should stop “because all I do is draw musicians.” No, I draw people I find attractive and interesting: some of them just so happen to play music.

What part of your sexuality seems the most mysterious to you?

Not necessarily to me specifically, but what’s this whole thing that sex is supposed to be holistic and sacred? The way it gets shoved into our faces on a regular basis while being treated as just the worst thing ever, it obviously isn’t.

I’m so lost on values. I mean, it’s bad enough that when I think about what I value on a non-sexual level, I can’t even answer that: throw sex into the mix and I feel like I’m walking through a fog.

I’m so lost on labels and who I’m attracted to, too. No, I’m sorry, I can’t take my time, this is driving me nuts.

When you hesitate to write something, what reminder can you give yourself to be as completely honest as you can, both factually and emotionally?

“I’m the only one here.”

What, if anything, about sex distresses you?

I worry about getting pregnant, and I’ve always known that this is why I’m so bored with regular old penetrative sex, and why I feel genuinely repulsed by the affluence of it in fanfic: it’s the weirdest thing to me, it’s like everyone has baby fever, whereas I don’t want children. Plus, I’m genuinely grossed out by the thought of being filled with cum.

I worry about falling ill, too. Need I say more.

My poor stomach has been through a lot, too: I worry about having to run to the bathroom.

The fact that i’ll never have it, either. I’m a virgin at 30. 30 year olds have had it several times, i’m lucky to have some rando on the street even look at me.

I just don’t like talking about sex, either. People are so comfortable talking about sex and all things sex and I’m usually thinking about a million different other things like it doesn’t even cross my mind.

Are we surprised that I hate this side of life?

What change would you like to make in your sexual behavior?

I don’t know how to be sexy, like I’m genuinely surprised when someone tells me something I did was hot. Worse, I don’t know if they’re saying that just because or if it’s sincere.

Wait. I’m supposed to enjoy myself? What?

What change would you like to make in your sexual attitudes or thoughts?

I don’t know what sex means to me. It’s just a thing that happens and I’m trying to understand the beliefs about it. No one is attracted to me, I get nothing out of it, and I simply don’t “get some”, either, so why should I bother?

The reason why I’ve been holding back so much is because I cringe at myself, at my true thoughts and I worry about being found out. I cringe at what I like, and it always happens after the fact. I cringe because I’ve been taught to cringe. I know nothing I think or feel matters, especially on a sexual level.

What even is sex appeal? Is it just some natural quality that just automatically comes to select people? What is this?

What change would you like to make in your sexual emotions or feelings?

I feel like there’s something wrong with me. There’s something wrong with me… for being attracted to men, like I’m so ashamed of this. I’m attracted to men and I feel bad about it. My sex drive is so fucking low and I’m helpless to change that.

I have emotions all tied up in sexual desire so it’s hard to tell the difference between the two.

What memories came to mind from the previous questions?

Nothing good or happy.

What do you like most about your current partner? Least?

I’m a virgin. 🎵 I’ll be cleaning my gun… 🎵

Make three (or more) sexual wishes. Don't hold back!

I wish I could talk about this freely. I wish I was hot. I wish I was accepted. I wish I belonged. I wish I didn’t have to worry. I wish I couldn’t feel hysterical laughter whenever I say I’m a virgin. I wish I had a sexuality that worked. I wish I could crush normally. I wish I had power and prowess and agency. I wish I had everything that I don’t have and can’t have.

Make a list of your sexual partners and write a few phrases to describe the relationship. What patterns do you see?

After years of research, I finally came to the perfect scientific conclusion: I’m a virgin and I’m lucky to have anyone even look at me. STOP USING THE WORD “PARTNER”! PLEASE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!

If you have a sexual partner now, write about this relationship. What works for you in this sexual relationship? What would you like to change?

Boy, you know, my hand not only does things to my clit and tits, but it can also become a fist to break the face of whoever implores the regular use of a clinical, completely loveless and soulless word like “partner”.

Describe what your ideal sexual relationship would look like today.

I don’t know. I don’t know what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. I know what an unhealthy relationship looks like, so I guess … healthy is the opposite? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.

If you have been sexually dissatisfied, what has kept you in the relationship?

Doesn’t apply.

Are you able to ask your partner for what you want sexually? How do you do that?

Nope, and I wouldn’t know how to ask, either. If I have a hard time asking my mom if we could get soup on a grocery trip, what makes anyone think I am going to feel at ease asking if I want to be fingered.

If you have difficulty asking for what you want, what are you telling yourself that makes asking difficult?

“They won’t care. They’re gonna laugh at me and reject me. They’re going to get angry with me. This is stupid and gross and crass and we all know it. Why do I even bother.”

What are your sexual limits with your partner?

First of all, don’t ever call me your “partner”, I fucking hate that word. I hate how normie it is, I hate how everyone uses it including couples who have been together a long time… I want to know when it was normalized because it’s so sterile and cold and influencer-y. Call me that and I’ll leave. “But nonbinary people use it”, see, that, I understand completely, barring it’s implied that someone in the couple isn’t cishet. But I can’t tell just by looking at you. Trust me, I learned the hard way on that. I have so much baggage with “partner” that writing it just leaves a weird taste in my mouth.

Second, NO CREAMPIES. I- no, just… no.

The word “daddy” has been all but ruined for me, too.

What sexual behavior won't you do or would do only under certain conditions? Write about those to clarify your boundaries.

Please don’t overdo pain. I like a little bit, but my body is actually very sensitive and too much pain is too much.

I don’t like it too rough: I’m slow and sensual for the most part, but a little quickness goes a long way if I think about it.

No period sex, please. I don’t know, just… b l o o d on the good sheets or nice upholstery, and my own, no less.

In what way might your relationship with your partner deepen or improve by talking openly about sex?

I change my mind from before, and I can’t see talking about sex doing anything good. “Communication is key!” You know, just because you say it a bunch of times, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily true. I guess it’s just my inexperience talking but when I really look at this, I’m starting to question my answer before. I can’t see a conversation doing any justice, like it really is a make or break situation.

Can you recall your first discovery of sexual fantasy? What was it about?

All I know is I was very young and I didn’t understand what was happening, either.

Write out three of your favorite sexual fantasies. If this is new to you, make one up now.

Okay, fine. I have worked with fantasy before, and I thought I hadn’t a shred of sexual fantasy before. Seasons Grey is pure fantasy, with the whole teacher-student trope at the core. Love Is Not Enough is fantasy, with the strippers at the root. Blood & Chocolate is all about my food fetish and belly kink. All my kinktober one shots are fantasies. Hell, you know what, any fics that come out of me have some kind of a fantasy embedded inside of them: I just wasn’t really aware of it.

How have you used your sexual fantasies up until now?

Haven’t, at least not outside of writing. I hate how this assumes that I can, too.

What began as a fantasy that you later took into action?

The time I told Alex I’m in love with his voice. It was way before I wrote voice kink one shot in eclipse, too. That one in particular was admittedly fun to write.

What sexual fantasies work the best to arouse you?

I was pretty aroused writing Chave do Mar: Alex as a merman with a long shark tail, smooth milky skin, and black curls tousled over his shoulder. Same with Blood & Chocolate, too: Alex being over fed and it shows up on his body. The Black Orchid scenes from now it’s dark were pretty hot, too, when I think back to writing them: Joey surrounded by burlesque strippers.

I don’t think I can use any of them to really get me off.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a friend? What was the reaction?

…it’s pretty across the board.

Have you shared your sexual fantasies with a lover? What was the reaction?

I don’t know if I could be courageous enough to do that.

How important is it for you to share your sexual fantasies? What are your reasons for sharing or not? Does sharing fantasies break their "spell"?

You know that fanfic meme that talks about writing your dream fanfic filled with all your fantasies and dreams but choosing not to and keeping it locked away in your mind because you want it to yourself? Yeah, I don’t relate to that at all—then again , i don’t relate to fanfic memes, period (“oh, I should be writing but I’m on tumblr hur hur”, get a life, all of you). I write them out because I want to make sense of them for the most part. I’ve never really seen them as all that mystifying: just these weird little scenes that roll around inside me. I literally don’t care, they’re stupid and pointless and painfully unsexy.

What, if anything, do you find distressing about your sexual thoughts or fantasies? Write about that to clarify it for yourself.

On their own, I don’t think they’re special or gossip-worthy or revolutionary or life-changing. They just are what they are.

But just the fact they exist distresses me. Why do I feel this way? Why am I doing this? This isn’t normal. Everyone is judging me and mocking me.

If you could say three things to the world about the nature of your personal sexuality and really be heard, understood, and accepted, what would you say?

I’ve got nothing. I don’t think I would really be heard, understood, and accepted no matter what I said. Everyone forgets my name eventually.

What were the main messages (directly or indirectly) that you learned about sex? Which messages did you keep or reject?

(Yeah, I replaced the next two with different ones from another place because I genuinely don’t remember when I first learned the feelings of arousal, nor do I give a shit about a stupid poem that I can’t emulate from anyway because I never experienced “great sexuality or eroticism” in my life)

I was basically taught that sex is dirty and for men’s desire only: women are not supposed to desire it, plus all men are perverts and rapists—anyone who says otherwise is lying. I was also taught that men just want to objectify you and use you for their pleasure. I was also taught that you have to be a certain height and body weight or you’re unattractive and therefore disposable. I never heard “beautiful” thrown my way from my peers: it was always from my parents; I heard “ugly” from my peers more than anything. I didn’t learn jack shit about the lgbtq+ community until I was like 19. I was taught strict gender roles. I was taught that my personal boundaries are meaningless and I’m free real estate.

I don’t think sex is dirty, but I don’t know how I feel about it being “sacred” or “holistic”. If I’m not supposed to desire it, what the hell am I doing? Oh, yeah, like women can’t objectify men when I see it in droves. BMI is eugenics. Gender roles are bullshit. Bonus: not everyone is meant to have children, and not everyone is meant for a relationship.

Which of the five senses is most sexual to you?

Sense of touch. The feeling of smooth skin, of a warm curvy body, of soft hair, of bristly hair… it gets very sexual when you think about it.

Describe your first sexual encounter. How old were you? Was it consensual? If not, what resources have you used to help heal from that encounter? If it was consensual, what did that experience mean to you at the time?

I was 18 and it was the day that Dan Wheldon was killed. I had just gotten home and a text from my dad about it. I get online to find a boy who used to sit behind me in geometry class completely beside himself because Dan was his hero. I remember it was Sunday evening, around dinner time: I told him I had to get something to eat because I was hungry and I would be right back. I came back and we talked for hours. Evening became night, and then I blurted out something that made him laugh, and then he made me laugh. One thing leads to another and I say something kind of sexual and it went from there. We chatted and texted back and forth for a few weeks after that until I got slammed with midterms.

As for meaning, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to feel about it, either. I don’t even know if it counts as an encounter, either, but it’s all I got.

Who was your first romantic, sexual partner? What about him or her appealed most to you? What did you hope would happen with that relationship?

Aside from the above, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had a girlfriend. 30 years old and I have never even been kissed. I got sick and tired of hearing “oh, you’ll find love some day” when I was 17, and now I know in my heart it won’t ever happen. I’ll never forget this one time when my dad was talking about one of my old friends and his girlfriend and how they “look so cute together” and I pointed out how it made me very uncomfortable and he gave me that “you’ll find love some day” without even a second thought.

It’s so exploitative, a little condescending, too, like it tells me everyone has bought into the whole “there’s someone for everyone” horse shit when I learned a long time ago that it’s horse shit. And it’s unfair, like you don’t know how my life will turn out. I don’t even know how my life is going to turn out. I’m just stating a fact, I didn’t ask for you to be fortune teller.

Do you believe that sex and emotional intimacy are linked, or is it possible to have a sexual relationship without emotional attachment? What experiences influence your answer?

The two can exist without each other. Casual sex is a thing, plus you can be emotionally attached but not want it.

Just… my own observations about this. I thought I was asexual and, even though I’m not, I did learn this along the way.

If you could have the perfect sex life right now, what would that look like?

The idea of me having a sex life, period, is so beyond me, like I don’t know what it’s even supposed to be. No, I don’t deserve sex or romance. Those are reserved for people who are well-adjusted.

How do you define “awesome” sex (i.e. what makes sex better than good)?

Makes me think of “awesome sauce”, which completely sucks the eroticism out of this. What even quantifies as “good sex” anyways?

How do you feel about PDA? (You can take this as far as “kinks in public,” too.)

Can’t stand it. Can’t stand seeing it, can’t stand the thought of it happening to me; some things are just better left in private. As for kinks in public, though? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.

What do you think about when you masturbate?

I do it when I’m watching tv so I’m not really thinking about anything.

What are your sure-fire turn-ons (and/or turn-offs)?

Turn-ons: touches, really all over my body. I like soft touch. I like being held. I like fantasy. I like intelligence. I like sweetness. I’m all about feeling and being close. I love Alex’s chest hair. I love Eric in knit sweaters with white buttons. I like boys in crop tops and leather that shows off their skin. I like velvet. I like silk. I like denim and corduroy.

What are your thoughts about porn?

One complaint I do have with it is the unrealistic expectations. No guy is like that. No girl is like that. I have no opinion at this point, actually.

What are your thoughts on foreplay? Favorite types? Best experiences? Wishes?

It’s still underrated. A few kisses or hickeys on a sensitive spot like on the neck or the belly, or fingers on the labia and lips on the thighs can take you a long way, and I can say that just from my own writing.

What parts of your lover’s body are you most drawn to? (If you don’t currently have a lover, feel free to consider past or future lovers.)

“Lover” is another pathetically overused word. My eyes have always wandered to the middle of the body. I don’t care if it’s slim and delicate or round and thick, either, I want to feel and hold, especially there.

If you were to “recreate” the early days of your favorite sexy relationship, what would they look like? Would you change anything?

It’s weird to think that I can actually answer this: I don’t think I would change anything. Maybe I could have been a little more upfront with him about how I feel about him earlier on because I just think about that one night in March-ish 2021, but there was a point to that, though. I wanted to ease into it, and there had to be some sort of opportunity to find with him because I see people hitting on him all the time, and I always think I’m being inappropriate with him, oh my god 🫣.

He feels so elusive now, and I have no doubt that fucking… I don’t even know what to call her, but she has a lot to do with it. I’ve seen how he is outside of her, though: he’s Mr. Social. When she enters the picture, he’s suddenly Mr. Standoffish Homebody, like someone flipped a switch, it’s unsettling, tbh.

What do you want more of in your sex life?

I don’t know. I’m boring.

Would you ever visit a sex therapist? What would be the reason and what do you think their advice would be for you?

Sign me up.

Why do I have a sexuality in the first place.

They’re probably going to give me some of the same old shit I see when I ask Google, so no, I take that back, I want my money back.

Is there anything about sex that embarrasses you, causes shame or fear, or makes you nervous? Or…what’s the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you during sex?

My fear of pregnancy and disease plus I worry about shitting myself.

Just the act itself. I literally can’t imagine anyone being that crazy about me, like I am not beautiful, I am not sexy… and I hate the expectation that comes with those words, like “you’re a woman! Be beautiful and sexy 24/7!” Fuck off. I could go away right now and no one would care or wonder what it would have been like to make love to me or toss a dick in me.

Talking about it makes me unbelievably nervous, too, like there’s a reason why I apologize for indulging in kink. I know it’s gross.

What do you tend to fantasize or dream about when it comes to sex? What kinds of porn or kink are you drawn to?

Last night, I ventured through the voice kink, belly kink, leather, latex, and lingerie tags. Don’t really know what to make of that, though.

If you were to create a sexy playlist intended for a hot date at home, what would be on it?

I have never made a sexy playlist in my life so I wouldn’t know where to start. This is another thing I have to look up because I don’t know.

What are your love languages and how do they apply to your sexual needs? What about your lover?

I’m all about touch and spending time. I am touch-starved and I have all the time in the world.

No idea how it applies to my voice kink but do I have to say how it applies to my textile kink, my belly kink, my hair kink, my water kink, my wax kink, or anything? “What about your lover”, piss right off.

How do you feel about being naked?

No opinion. It just … is what it is. I don’t fixate on flaws (I never could, either, even with my troubled relationship with myself), nor do I see it as a beautiful thing: it just it what it is. I take care of myself but that’s about it. What do you do with it. Why is this controversial. Now, when I think about being naked with someone else, look the other way.

What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

You put your guitar on your lap, you brush your hair really nice, you have this little twinkle in your eye like you’re up to no good or you’re secretly going commando out of camera, you have a glass of wine in hand, and you talk in a very soft, husky voice when I ask you about your underwear. I think.

Do you have any trust issues surrounding sex or your sexual relationship(s)?

I have nothing but trust issues when it comes to sex. It’s honestly horrifying.

What do you look like, and sound like, when sex feels good for you?

Whenever I write something erotic, every so often I have to stop myself and close my eyes because I feel things moving. I get really quiet (everyone talks about screaming during sex: I’m the exact opposite, I get really quiet) and my hands start itching for the feeling. I bite my lip a lot, too—sometimes I do that without even thinking, like it just happens. It’s a long slow burn with me.

This is literally all I’ve got, sorry.

What is the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Flirted with Alex on stories. I’ve always fucking sucked at flirting (I once went for five years without flirting with anyone because I suck so hard at it), let alone with a guy like him. I love calling him “baby” and by his name, especially.

Flirted with Eric on stories (I called him “big guy”) and got him to take a selfie from the toilet. Wish I was making that up.

I asked “are we going to see a Jeff Becerra OnlyFans any time soon?” and mf literally replied with “only if the price is right” and the eggplant emoji, even though I was just joking around.

Any time I post risqué art on instagram because they’re assholes with that sort of thing. No clue how threads’ll react to it.

When now it’s dark was being written and I posted those ink drawings on instagram (completely oblivious to the fact Joey was watching me).

There was also one time in school one of my friends had his pants hanging down a bit and I tried to pants him and he caught me. I did get to pinch his butt when no one was looking, though.

In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

I don’t know what this means.

Have you ever had sex in a public place?

WHYYYYYYYYYYY would I do this?

When and how did you lose your virginity, and how did you feel about it? How do you feel about it now?

I’ll probably die a virgin.

Have you ever had sex with more than one person at a time, watched others have sex, been watched? If not, would you?

I think I’m polyamorous so I’d definitely try it. As for voyeurism… maybe I’d like to be watched? Don’t know about watching others, though.

How often do you masturbate and what works best for you?

Well, I started doing it again, during idle moments when I’m not doing anything. I’m just using my fingers right now: let’s see how it goes. I can’t say I’ll have any desire to use a toy. Maybe I’m not doing it right because I have done it but I barely get off at all, and I’m more disgusted with myself than anything.

Maybe I’m just not trying enough, but I look at some on lingerie sites like Spencer’s or wherever, and I shake my head. “Find one that’s best for you”, they tell me. Yeah, but nothing here is jumping out at me. I’m going to look ridiculous in lingerie, too.

What are you most grateful or thankful for in your sex life?

Nothing. Literally nothing. Grateful for the pain? The headaches? The heavy feeling in my chest?

What is your favorite sexual position, and why?

Cowgirl, I guess?

Have you ever had an “inappropriate” crush? What was it about that person that drew you in, and what made it “not okay”?

I have one right now, on Alex. He’s kind of everything I love in another person: he’s intelligent, he’s musical, he’s passionate about what he does, he’s very sensual with a very sensual voice, he’s sweet, he’s an animal lover, he’s got an interesting appearance…

Problem is he’s older and more established and living clear across the country from me… and he’s already got a relationship. The thing that bothers me most about it is I really, truly want to like her, I really do, I’m not joking about this, but I can’t bring myself to do it. She irritates the ever-loving fuck out of me. It’s like… do you ever see someone and for whatever reason, they rub you the wrong way and you nope right out of it (plus, you’re afraid to fuck around and find out)? That’s me with her. I don’t get what he sees in her, like I always want to puke whenever he tags her in a post.

I can’t explain it but there’s something weirdly mean-spirited about her, mean-spirited and kind of nefarious. I think it’s the way she’s like “I’m a shy person” and yet all the shy people I’ve known didn’t even bother with social media or the internet altogether, like they didn’t have an Instagram just to spite itself. This, and the fact she refuses to join in photographs with him… something about it just doesn’t hit right.

The whole thing, my crush on him and my dislike of her, it’s stupid. I feel really stupid.

Have you (or would you) ever tried role play? What roles are you drawn to?

I guess the student-teacher thing or the human-vampire thing or the human-merperson thing. I don’t care if it happens or not.

Are you more dominant or submissive (or a bit of both)?

Both. Yes, even with as much as I hate the stereotypical female role and find it restrictive, there’s a sub in me.

How do you feel about your own body?

I don’t like it. What’s worse is I don’t know what I dislike about it, it’s just this overall, generalized feeling. Parents called me beautiful but if my piss-poor track record with my peers and crushes and this whole thing here is anything to go by… it should be clear that I’m not good-looking. I only started actually getting hit on very recently, and looking at my appearance when I was a teenager, I did not look good at all. It makes sense that no one ever made a pass on me.

I’ve posted pictures of myself online before and I have literally gotten blocked for it. They weren’t anything risqué, either, they were just… my face. Or me in a t-shirt or a camisole because I like wearing those. But I see people who are *okay looking* (like I could see them on the street willy-nilly but they won’t make me turn my head) get hundreds of likes or notes. I see people—I’m gonna catch hell for this; I have nothing to lose—who are ugly, like uglier than me, get the likes and called “beauty queens” and shit. I hope people realize just how hurtful it is, and I hope that people realize that telling me to “just be confident” in the face of that is genuinely insulting.

How sorry do you have to feel for a person having sex with you?

Sorrier than sorry. Why bother. I can’t give you pleasure or anything, anything other than tears. Just go to sleep.

Could someone know you sexually, properly know you, and still like you?

A certain someone knows about me sexually and I have no clue if he likes me, and it’s not the boy I cybered with, either.

#i need therapy #sexuality #journaling #text #personal

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