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fuckmymunson · 2 years

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𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥 — 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

★ Request: Dark!Sirius Black, prompt words: Bullet, graveyard shift, sinner.

★ CW: 18+ DARK SMUT, NON-CON, religious corruption kink, disrespecting holy items, nun!reader, loss of virginity, BLOOD, unprotected sex, choking, breeding kink, (barely there?) dumbification, not exactly dirty talk but kind of?, dacryphilia, not edited/proofread! lmk if I miss a tag! | Word count: 2,8k. | Minors DNI.

★ a/n: Requested by 📸 anon, hope you like it!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Walking under the pouring rain, the half-moon and stars hidden behind the big, dark clouds of autumn, side by side with sister Lisseth, who was explaining to you tonight's divine office. Crossing the open gates of the graveyard next to the cathedral, holding the skirts of your habit, the atmosphere felt heavy the moment you stepped inside the holy property.

“I promise you the night will go in the blink of an eye.” She spoke, her green eyes glowing softly at the oil lantern she had in a pale hand. “You know your divine office, right?”

“Yes.” You nodded, obedient as always. “Ten Hail Mary Prayers, fifteen prayers for Our father and the Rosary for the salvation of the poor souls who had left this earth too early.” Your sister looked pleased with your answer and handing you the oil lantern as well as an umbrella, identical to the one she was holding, she guided you to an empty mausoleum, which would be your shelter for that night.

“God blesses you, sister.” She smiled, holding your hand. “Repeat with me the night shift praying.”

“Dear God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” The two nuns spoke in unison, the rain around them acting as a sweet lullaby to their prayers. “Remember those who labour and toil while I eat and rest. Bless those who go unseen during night hours. Strengthen those who ply their trade after the setting of the sun. Amen.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, please take care.” Before leaving, Sister Lisseth spoke words that left you slightly puzzled.

After a few minutes of silent prayers, the night shift you were committed to finally started. Walking through the rows of graves and tombstones, murmuring merciful prayers clenching the red rosary tight against your chest. The rain stopped after a few hours and returning to the empty mausoleum, you folded the black umbrella, ready to continue with your night prayers.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen.” Your voice resounded in the ancient stones, in the names of the departed. Hands clasped together still holding the crimson beads in a devoted sight. “In times of sickness and death, prayers are the best means of consolation, comfort and help that people can give. Let us now begin this Rosary by calling on our Blessed Mother Mary to pray for us now as we pray for all of the poor unfortunate souls who had left us too early…”

A loud crack was heard in the distance, followed by a low growl, something that sounded too similar to a whimper of pain. Remaining still on your knees, you muttered a quick prayer for protection, feeling your heart speeding up in a split second. Maybe is just a stray dog who got hurt, that made a lot of sense, a dog.

“God of heaven, You called them from this life. God of Mercy, fulfil their faith and hope in You.” You continued the prayer, eyes darting at the abyss of darkness that unfolded before you. “Lead them safely home to heaven to be with You forever, filled with joy and peace in Your presence. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

With every second that passed, the sounds got louder, heavier, almost as if they were steps, that was slowly approaching you. Standing up abruptly, one hand clasping the holy figure and the other holding the oil lantern, narrowed eyes, scrutinizing the dark corners and paths of the graveyard, looking for the source of the sounds. Amazingly, a tall figure emerged from behind an old oak tree, limping and curling in its own figure. The rain enhanced the smells of the forest next to the cathedral, the scents of musk, moist grass and tar flooding your nostrils, and, the unmistakable metallic smell of blood.

“Who are you?” Your question made him raise his head, it was a man. An injured man. He was a few inches taller than you, he looked ragged and dejected, he wore an old grey coat, wet with the rain and ripped in a few spots. His eyes were also grey, sparkling with the dim lights of the lantern, his chiselled cheekbones and jawline were painted with droplets of blood, the light shadow of his facial hair enriching his pale skin.

Instead of answering your question, the stranger approached you a little more, one hand firmly resting against his stomach. “You’re hurt.” You acknowledged his damaged state, and he nodded weakly, his eyes giving you a silent plea.

Placing the lantern on the floor, you approached him this time, worried and ready to aid a stranger in disgrace. You were so blinded by your kind heart, that you didn’t notice the devilish smirk in his eyes. Helping him take a seat on the edge of the empty mausoleum, you kneeled next to him, moving his hand gently to asset the damage. “What happened?” You asked, alarmed by the amount of blood.

“I was shot.” He explained briefly, making you gasp. His voice was calm, too calm for someone who had been shot, but you were too worried to notice that too. “I need you to help me, Sister.”

“Of course.” You nodded, a determined fire in your eyes. This is what God would’ve wanted, to help a wayward soul. “We can go back to the cathedral, I’m sure Sister Lily will be of help, she is a really good healer and—”

“We don’t have time, Sister.” He interrupted you, placing a hand on top of yours, guiding it to his wound. “I need you to remove the bullet, with your hands.” A surprising gesture appeared on your face, almost making him chuckle. “Please, it hurts so much.” His wince was too convincing.

Swallowing all the panic and fear, your shaky hand darted over his wound, a few centimetres next to his belly button. When your soft fingers slid inside the wound, he hissed in pain, and you flinched in disgust and anxiety, it was horrible, and the sensation was one you would never forget. Sliding another finger in, your fingertips bumped with a small object and curling them gently over the silver bullet, you pulled it slowly, afraid of hurting him more. The whole time you avoided his gaze, afraid to break down at the pain he had to be experiencing. The clammy sensation of blood clots and skin made you gag, tears prickled in your pretty eyes, the sound of your fingers leaving the wound was so disgusting you miraculously suppressed the urge to vomit.

“Thank you, Thank you.” He whispered, letting out a satisfied groan, his voice echoing in your ears.

“We need to go back to the cathedral, the wound is deep, it needs to be cleaned.” Your voice was supposed to be confident, but it came out shaky and nervous, still in shock, looking at your bloody hand holding the silver bullet in awe.

“There’s no need, Sister.” This time, you lifted your eyes, meeting his and feeling your heart-stopping at the smirk he wore on his Adonis's face. “The bullet was the only thing preventing my body from working as it should be.”

Right before your eyes, the wound started closing, the skin stretching and then shrinking, until there was no wound, the only evidence of an injury being the blood stains and a very faint silver scar. Mouth wide open, you gasped again, this time in total fear.

“Who are you?” You repeated the question from earlier, your hands quickly reaching for the crimson rosary, the same colour as the blood in your fingers.

‘Sirius Black.’ He said, as cocky as he could be. Black, you had heard that last name before. Before, sure, but where?

Then, it hit you.

“Black.” You repeated out loud. “Just like the family who was murdered a few days ago.” The exact family who was buried in the graveyard you were now stuck in, in an ostentatious marble mausoleum, a few yards away. “Mother, Father and only son were found dead in the Black manor.”

“That was my family, yes.” He looked amused by your reactions as if he was playing with you. “Not by my hand, unfortunately.” A weak whine fled your lips by his words, making him chuckle.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged, scared, holding the rosary in your chest.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Sister.” The way the holy title rolled down his tongue was different, it sounded blasphemous, sinful. “You helped me, and you deserved a reward for your kind heart.”

“Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve, to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.” You whispered hurriedly, terrified, the tears rolling hotly down your cheeks, your words only making him laugh again. “Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.—”

“Praying won’t save you from me, little one.” He interrupted you, again, cupping your face with one hand, harshly pulling you closer to his face, you continued with the prayer. “Oh, sweet Virgin Mary. Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.” He joined the prayer, mocking your voice and laughing darkly at your tears. “Oh, sweet virgin.”

His lips were pressed against yours, swallowing the sob that emanated from you. Sirius could taste the salty flavour of your tears, fueling his increasing arousal. He felt hungry, starving, and the only thing he wanted to ravish was you. You tried to push him away, a desperate attempt to escape his claws, but he was monstrously strong. Standing up, he grabbed your coif, snatching it away from your head, letting your hair exposed to the night air. One hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, dragging you inside the cold mausoleum with him. Kneeling next to you, just like you did minutes before, he licked your tears groaning at the taste. “So pretty.” He whispered before kissing you again, the goal of ruining you being the only one inside his twisted mind.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” You cried, desperate for salvation, squeaking when his cruel hands slid inside your tunic, groping your thighs and loosening the fabric. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

“Amen.” He finished the sentence, smiling. His fingers twisted your nipples, torturing you beyond limits. “Answer me, Sister, are you a virgin?” The painful moan from your part answered his question, but he wanted verbal confirmation. “Answer me, little one.”

“Please, please don’t.” You cried, a cry that broke into a choke when his thumb circled your clothed clit.

“So, you are.” He repeated his actions until he was satisfied by the subtle wet patch in your cotton underwear, as white as your coif, as pure as your heart. “Then I’m sure I will enjoy ruining you more, my sweet virgin.”

He slid one finger, only one, and it hurt. The slick between your legs was providing him with enough lubrication, but the intrusion was too much. “So tight.” He pointed out, kissing your jaw. “Can wait to rip you apart with my cock. Break this tight cunt in two, if I’m feeling clement enough, perhaps I can bless you with my baby, don’t you think? Sister.” Curling his finger, he seized from the way you rocked your hips involuntarily, adding a second finger, the burning sensation of being stretched by his digits overwhelmed your head.

“I believe in one God—.” You tried to continue, believing so foolishly in the superior being that could pull you out of this misery, your voice cracked at the way he curled his fingers again, hitting that spot that made you moan in pleasure, a guilty pleasure. “the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible… Fuck.” You gasped when his thumb met your clit again, the bliss of an orgasm clouding your head.

“That’s it, little one.” Sirius cooed at you. “Let yourself go, there’s nothing bad about pleasure, on the contrary, why would God give you such a gorgeous body and not put it to good use?” He added a third finger, and the pain returned. Biting your lip, you sobbed at his words, feeling so guilty for getting any pleasure from this sinful act, you made a celibate vow, and you tried to remember the celibate prayer you spoke out loud in the cathedral a few months ago when you decided to change your life and be faithful to your one and only God.

“I-I ask you, Jesus, to fill my sexuality with your holiness, to strengthen me and restore me in your n-name.” Every word was harder to pronounce than the one before, Sirius was kissing your neck, nibbling at the flesh and leaving purplish marks. Everything was getting blurry, your head was floating, the sensations were too powerful.

“So dumb.” Sirius mocked your pout, removing his fingers from your aching pussy, swirling his tongue over his wet digits, wet with your arousal, with your sin. “Such a holy fool.” Unbotting his trousers, you gasped in shock, knowing well what was about to happen. Trying to move was useless now, he had you caged, and when he lined up with your throbbing cunt, he smiled almost gently. “Don’t worry, Sister, I will make you feel good.”

The pain was unimaginable.

Even if he attempted to prep you beforehand, his fingers weren’t compared to his cock. Sirius groaned, delighted by the way your velvety virgin walls suck every inch of him. “So greedy.” He growled, moving until his hips collided with the back of your thighs. “So tight, such a holy cunt.” Dragging his length out of you, the crimson sheer layer that covered it only thrilled him even more. Leaning down to kiss you, he drank your desperate cries, hands pressed on your thighs opening your legs even further if it was possible.

Next to you, discarded and forgotten, the red beaded rosary caught his attention. Closing your eyes due to the pleasure and pain that rocked your body, your eyes widened when you felt a familiar material wrapped around your throat, the rosary sinking into the skin of your neck, denting the tender flesh and obstructing the air from your lungs. Sirius kept choking you with your own holy item, bottoming out at the way your gushing pussy pulsated around his hard cock. “You like that, don’t you?” He asked in a hoarse voice, struggling to thrust at the way your walls were gripping him.

Little black dots clouded your vision, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and Sirius released the pressure from your throat, allowing you to breathe, the rosary hanging loosely around your poor neck and bouncing over your exposed breasts with every snap of his hips.

“I’m gonna fill you up, little one.” He spoke, leaning down, squeezing your cheeks together, forcing an exaggerated pout from your part. “I’m gonna bless you with my child, ‘m sure you’ll be a wonderful mother.” His fingers rubbed your clit without any compassion, throwing you into that state of bliss, feeling the orgasm again, this time harder than before. “Cum, cum for me, Sister. Let your sins consume you.”

Sirius moaned when you came around him, and after a few deep thrusts, he did as well, inside you, the warm squirts of his cum pooling inside you, making you whine at the new sensation. Sirius cooed at you, kissing your lips, your neck, your breasts. Your body was overworked, every inch of it hurt, and the world was becoming a big blur with every second that passed.

“Rest, little one.” You heard him talk, feeling something being placed inside your hand, something you hold tightly. “Rest, for now.” That was the last thing you registered before fainting.

The next morning, you woke up in one of the infirmary’s beds, feeling sore from head to toe. Next to you, Sister Lily and Sister Lisseth had a permanent gesture of distress, when they noticed your awake state, they rushed their way to you.

“Thank God you’re awake.” Sister Lily cried, covering her face with her hands.

“What happened? Take your time, there’s no rush, your wellbeing comes first.” Sister Lisseth grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circled in your palm.

Feeling something cold against your other hand, you lifted and opened it, a little ring falling on your lap. Picking it up, it was a gold ring, with initials carved. It was elegant and shadowy and it only screamed danger. Your finger traced the initials: S.O.B.

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. I appreciate any feedback!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya dreams of Sirius!(〃＾▽＾〃)#sirius black #dark!siriusblack #dark!sirius black #sirius by omel!#dark!sirius by omel!#sirius black smut #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #dark!sirius black smut #marauder x reader smut #omenhel's 200 flowers!#📸 anon

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