No More Tears - R!Euronymous x religious(ish)!reader
tags : @leismm
word count - 1.9k
warnings - fem anatomy/petnames, dead dove do not eat, blasphemy kink, spanking, fingering, humiliation, degradation, religious corruption, dumbification, choking the reader with their own cross necklace, breeding, c*mming inside
A cloud of dust erupted from the door Oystein had burst open with one kick of his boot, allowing you both inside the abandoned building. The church reeked of mildew and old pine.
You and Oystein had been going out for a couple of years, and he wanted to do something special for you. Well, his idea of special, anyway. He had brought you to an abandoned church, wanting to explore it. To convince you to go in the first place, he told you that you'd both look at the stars at nightfall. 'How romantic!' You thought to yourself, before dolling yourself up for the night out.
Euronymous picked out an outfit for you, including a light-colored miniskirt and a skimpy lace-trimmed cami that clung to your torso and exposed your midriff. He asked you to wear your golden, dainty cross necklace to complete the look, and you didn't think twice.
You should've known better…
Exploring the empty, silent church, he found an antique, cushioned wooden chair at the very back. A broad smirk spread across his face knowingly, and he flopped down on the creaky seat. His eyes followed your frame up the aisle as you delicately traced your fingertips along the dusty wooden pews.
About thirty minutes pass, and you end up on his lap with his hands roaming over your flesh with an authoritative need. He kissed you feverishly, whispering harsh promises against your puffy lips. He ordered you to lie over his legs, with your ass hiked up in the air.
The woody stale aroma of Oystein's lit cigarette enveloped you and clung to your skin and hair. His half-lit cigarette held on for dear life from his lips. His fingers were plunged knuckle-deep in your weeping pussy, and you lay over his lap with your panties and skirt pulled unceremoniously down your ankles. His pants had already unbuckled, the only thing separating his cock that beat against you rhythmically was the thin cotton of his boxers.
The pace of his fingers was brutal as he made the 'come hither' motions with two of his middle fingers to keep hitting that soft spongy spot inside of you every time. Your helpless, needy cries echoed and bounced off the vacant church's elevated ceilings. You sounded so pathetic and lewd, the mere thought of someone passing by the dark building and hearing you flashed across your mind and made your skin hot all over.
"I can't believe how wet you are… you're a sick little lamb, aren't ya?" His voice was low and condescending.
Oystein could hear the whine in your voice as you squirmed on his lap. He huffed, his fingers working in and out of your burning heat at a merciless pace.
"But don’t worry, I’ll wash away all of your sins. I wonder if that God of yours is looking down on you. He’s gonna see how I’ll ruin you…" Euronymous taunted wickedly, his voice low and coming out like a hiss.
His words made you dizzy, and you pushed your face into the dusty cushion as he continued his assault on your sloppy cunt. His eyes fixated on the glinting gold necklace that swung underneath you, and his cock throbbed harder at the thought that he was committing such a sinful act in the Lord’s home.
"Your God is a sorry excuse for a deity; you should’ve devoted yourself to me instead… you worship me so well already.” His murmur was breathless and hypnotic, understanding that he may be hitting a nerve with you on this subject.
A broken moan fell from your parted lips, and you wriggled uncomfortably in the position he put you in. A needy wail came from you, tossing your head back and giving him a look of warning. Almost as if the glare you shot him was a wordless 'be careful.'
“Awwh… did I strike a nerve? You poor thing, c’mere…” Euronymous’ voice dripped with faux solicitude, pulling you into his lap. Your bare cunt flush against his length, and his hand clasps around your throat possessively with another on the small of your back to keep you steady.
“But you know your place, don't you… just gonna give you a little reminder.” He released his firm grasp on your throat and cupped your cheek. His calloused thumb pad ran over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently as his eyes fixated on your puffy face.
Before you knew it, he forced you to your knees onto the hard wooden floor. Wincing and rubbing your knees, you sat politely on your heels and eagerly awaited his next move. Euro was capricious, and that excited you more. You cursed yourself for the wetness seeping out of your hot cunt.
The long-haired man studied you, his lips parted to swipe his tongue across his lips as if he knew he had you where he wanted.
“I want you to repeat after me, and don’t turn those pretty eyes from mine, got it?” Euronymous warns, his tone stern as he places both hands on his knees. You sat perfectly between his boot-clad feet, silently nodding in response because words failed you.
“I pledge myself to my God, Oystein, wholly, and devote myself to pleasure and worship you.”
Your puffy lips quivered as you stammered after him, unable to tear your eyes away from his alluring stare. It was as if he had you hypnotized and transfixed, hanging on his every word. A satisfied smile upturns the corners of his lips, and he nods as you stammer after him.
“Mhm…” He hums with approval, taking notice of how you had clenched your thighs together for any sort of friction. “I surrender myself to my God, my soul, my body, and my mind.”
The words fell from your mouth before you could even process them, and you felt hot shame creep up the back of your neck and burn the tips of your ears. How would your family feel if they knew you were devoting yourself to this… being?
Euro’s sinister sneer spreads across his face wider, almost laughing in your face.
“That’s my perfect lamb…” He encourages helpfully, his slate-blue irises flicking towards the golden cross that hung around your neck. He stands up, towering over you from your spot on the wooden floor. He picks you up, perching you on the seat of the throne so you face the back of it. On your hands and knees, he positions himself behind you with his hardened cock pressing against your bottom. Despite the thick material of his dark jeans, you could feel his length throbbing against your ass.
Euronymous delicately traces his fingers along your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers trail up the back of your neck, and he grabs a handful of your hair to pull back abruptly (or for those with short/textured hair, 'He trails his hand to the top of your head, tipping your head backwards with his fingertips gently guiding you to ogle at the ceiling.')
His other hand ran up your spine languidly, his fingertips tracing up your feverish skin and hooking in the cross necklace you wore. Without warning, he tugged harshly on the back of your necklace and dragged you up into a kneeling position, almost like a horse rearing on its hind legs. A petrified yelp ripped from your throat, and you scrambled for balance and reached for anything for stability. He swiftly supported you, his bicep wrapping securely around your chest.
“You look so pretty like this, sweet girl…” Oystein cooed at you with a mocking tone, a dark laugh erupting from deep in his chest. “You obey me so so good… ”
He shuffled out of his pants, his length bounced up as his tip pulsated against his tummy. Oystein angles his cock against your begging heat and slides it up and down in a teasing manner. His tip grazes against your slick pussy, your ass arching up against him, desperate to feel him inside of you.
"You ready, sweet thing?" His voice is husky as he rasps out rhetorically, not really giving you time to answer as his thick member sinks into you. A hiss comes from your puffy and parted lips as he buries himself to the hilt.
Oystein stuffs you full, muttering underneath his breath as he releases his grip on the golden chain around your neck. The feeling of your necklace made your throat feel sore, and you were sure it would leave a bruise.
His hand reaches down to grip your hip strongly, his other arm strongly supporting you around your waist, pulling out again only to sink deeper into your convulsing pussy. The thought of doing something so sinful and impure in a place of worship drove Oystein to keep going, his tempo picking up mercilessly. The sounds of your flesh colliding and your noises together reverberated off the empty church's interior, sounding like a scene out of a cheesy porno.
That familiar heat exploded in your gut, making your vision cloud as you choked out plaintive cries, his cock ravaging and ruining your sloppy cunt. Your walls spasmed around his member, almost coaxing him deeper as your arousal dripped down his balls and smearing his thighs.
"You came for me so soon? What a sick lamb you are, creaming on my cock while I fuck you in a church, I knew you'd love this… what a filthy slut you are for me… mmh." Despite how cruel his words were, it only spurred you on and helped build another orgasm. Your mind whirled, gasping for oxygen as you tried to recuperate from your powerful orgasm. Oystein's cock drilled into you relentlessly, never giving you a chance to catch your breath or recover.
You came so many times from his brutality, losing count of how much he'd shattered your reality in this one session. Your poor cunt squeezed around him as if you never wanted to be separated from his length. It felt as if his torture was never-ending, but luckily enough, his thrusts grew sloppy as he neared his own climax.
"Fuck… you want your god to fill you up? Hmm? Want me to breed that little womb full of my seed, huh?" Oystein's grip on your hip was bruising as he took what he needed, feeling his dick throb inside your cunt. The incessant and unrelenting pace of his cock abused that spot deep inside of you, tipping you over the edge once more. He finally spilled his hot seed into you, and the sensation of his essence coating your pulsating cunt made you shudder. His brutal pace eventually slowed and his hips still, besides a few slow thrusts to further make sure his cum stayed inside of you.
After catching his breath for a moment, he slips his softening cock from inside of you with a lewd 'pop!'
Both of you were left panting raggedly as Oystein let you slump forward into the sizeable cushioned throne he just defiled you on. Sneakily, he sinks a finger into your cunt greedily to push his cum back into you before pulling your panties and skirt back up around your midsection. He pulls his boxers and pants up, buckling his belt before effortlessly picking you up. Your legs lock around his waist, supporting you with one hand on your ass. His hands smooth over your disheveled hair, wiping the sweat from your feverish forehead, pouting at you almost mockingly as his footsteps echoed, walking out of the defiled church.
"Y'did so so good for me, sweet thing, let's get back home so I can clean you up, does that sound okay?" Oystein sounded like a different person compared to how he was five minutes prior, but he knew how to make you feel cared for. He opens the passenger side of his car door with a creak, laying you down in the seat delicately as if you were made of porcelain.
"Don't worry, doll, 'm so proud of you. I'll get you all taken care of… not that long of a drive."