Ripping the condom off mid sesh with your big boyfriend Miguel. He’s pumping into you, long deep strokes into your gushing pussy. He’s a moany mess on top of you, pounding into you from behind. Just the way you like.
“Ohhhh baby~ ugh mmmm hah…” His noises alone could make you come. You’ve just switched birth control so you’re using condoms for a few weeks. Don’t want any surprises.
But he’s used to being bare in your heat, he knows how it feels, he’s memorized it, he’s dreamt of it, there’s no other feeling like it.
“Please baby… lemme take it off… needa feel you… please please” He pants in your ear and you know exactly what he’s talking about. You want it it too. “Mig…..” You whine and nod. Both a protest and a plea. You’d do anything to take him raw at this point. Anything for his cum.
“We’ll get a plan B baby… tomorrow morning… I promise” He kisses your cheek, sitting up on his knees and ripping the rubber off like shackles and he’s a prisoner finally freed.
“Ohhh… yes baby… my baby girl…” He pants, sinking into your pussy finally bare, his dick instantly enveloped in that naked wet warmth. Kissing your back, your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can get to you. He’s addicted for sure.
Warnings: Smut (18+), Sacrilege, face fucking, Zeke, yes he’s a fucking trigger warning, mention of sex worker,, some bible scriptures
Word Count: 1.9K
A/n: SHHHHHH no one say anything ok. I had some stuff on my mind and a specific nasty ass character is the one who came to mind. I ashamed of this, and yet, I’m happy with how nasty it is. It’s supposed to be grimey, Zeke is grimey. If that’s gonna squick you out, don't read please! ANYWHOO enjoy the feast. A very very special thank you to a beautiful soul and actual love of my life @dymphnasprose for making this gorgeous banner. And thank you as always to @whats-her-quirk for reading over it and screaming about it with me when it first popped in my head. 💖
This will also be posted on my ao3 also!
P.S. Mel I will always and forever blame you for this pit I’m in. @present-mel
“Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared;” -Nehemiah 8:10
You’re not a bad girl. Misguided maybe, but not bad. Father Zeke doesn’t sense evil in you. You’re not like the other girls you run around with and he knows that. It’s why he indulged your poor mother when she came to speak to him and ask if he could talk some sense into you.
She was worried about you, afraid your scandalous behavior, your skimpy clothing, your sinful activities would cast you into the fires of hell. She claimed you used to be her sweet little angel, intelligent, creative, on the right track before puberty hit. And after high school when you went away to college, you’d come home on the first break a completely different person.
Father Zeke consoled her, rubbed a huge hand down her back as she cried in his office over the loss of her daughter’s soul. He’d assured her he’d kept an eye on her sweet daughter, prayed to God about her and knew exactly what to do to help. It was not too late.
“Do not cry my child. I can save her with the strength of the Lord and his words in my heart. I promise you, your daughter’s soul will be saved,” he said, smiling gently to her. She’d cried more at his words, thanking him profusely before telling him she would have you come to see him tomorrow morning before the service.
You arrive, 7am on the dot and the Father is impressed with your punctuality. When you enter his office in your skimpy low cut shirt and even shorter skirt he raises his eyebrows in what seems to be disapproval. The smirk on your face as you sit in the chair across from him is wicked, full of lust.
“So, my mother says you can cure my ‘salacious demons’,” you say, putting the last two words in air quotes with your slender painted fingers. Your voice rings out in his office, girlish, feminine, a lure into a perilous trap.
“There’s nothing to cure, child. You just lack the information needed to achieve your greatness. You need to be set upon the right path, and I intend to show you,” he says, smiling warmly at you behind his desk.
You scoff at him, watching him twiddle his thumbs together before folding them neatly on his desk.
“Right, you're here to lecture me on lust when you can’t even control your own,” you say, smiling defiantly at him and leaning forward onto his desk. Your breasts perk up, the plump cleavage peeking out over your shirt.
Zeke’s eyes momentarily rest there before moving back up to your eyes. So you are as intelligent as your mother bragged, intelligent and observant. He drums his fingers against the wood of the desk, adjusts his circle lenses as he watches your tongue flick across the dip in your top lip. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light sweat breaking out over his brow. He knows what you’re doing, and you’re doing it well.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you Father?” you say grinning up at him and pushing your breasts more into his line of sight. He blinks, swallows again and flexes his hand under the desk in a fist.
He sends quick thanks to the Lord for sending you to him and allowing him to use you as the example he needs. The Church has always been big about making examples out of sinners. A sinner practices witchcraft and is burned at the stake for their crimes to ensure all who follow know their fate and eternal punishment. This will be no different.
“Come with me child,” he says, standing and motioning for you to walk through the narrow door to the sanctuary. He opens the door for you, inhales the scent of your spicy perfume, one he’s sure he’s smelled on the hookers he “prayed” over and ensured their souls would be saved if they did everything he told them too, for no charge of course.
The sanctuary is filled with the smoky incense of the prayer candles lit by the altar boys earlier this morning. The glorious morning sun shines down through the beautiful stained glass windows and illuminates your lovely soft skin as it drinks in the colors. Father Zeke watches as the light shimmers in your hair, twinkles on your eyelashes as you bat them at him in flirtatious fun.
He only smiles as he leads you to the altar, a chaste hand at the small of your back. It’s riddled with ornate gold candles and a goblet that holds the wine for this morning’s sermon. Right above is a cross with Jesus’s tortured expression peering down on the two of you. You oblige in this silly ruse, wanting to call both he and your mother out on their bullshit. There’s nothing wrong with you. You like to dress sexy and have sex, no big deal. No magic water or blessed oil put on your forehead will change that.
“Kneel,” he says gently and you do so. He pulls a goblet holding oil and dips a finger into the sticky mixture. He stands in front of you, draws a cross in the middle of your forehead, and recites a verse.
Do not desire her beauty in your heart,
Nor let her capture you with her eyelids.
For on account of a harlot one is reduced to a loaf of bread,
And an adulteress hunts for the precious life.- Proverbs 6:25-29
You smile up at him through your lashes and stick out your tongue before purring, “Well this is the perfect position for a blow job, Father. Are you thinking about me sucking you off? Right in front of Jesus? You should be ashamed.”
“None of us are without sin.”
His words catch you off guard and before you know it, his cassock is unzipped and his cock is up and weeping with precum. It’s pretty, you have to admit, nothing like the inexperienced, disgusting frat boys at your college you've hooked up with. The length and thickness make your mouth water and his neatly shaven blonde pubes are a sight to behold. There are two prominent veins on the underside you want to run your tongue against and the tip is pink and flushed.
He grabs a fist full of your hair and puts his dick to your lips. You part your lips automatically and welcome it in, flattening your tongue and dropping your jaw to accommodate for the sheer amount of mass entering your mouth. He groans at first contact, fisting your hair and peering down at the lovely sight below him.
He’s more than halfway into your mouth, down your throat and you aren’t gagging. So much sin, he thinks to himself. But this will save you, he’s sure of it. When your eyelashes flutter as if to tell him to keep going, he pushes father into your mouth, deeper down your throat, and you both moan at the same time.
You push yourself farther, deep throating him in all your glory and making your nose meet his coarse blonde pubes. Your eyes have started to water but you’re breathing through your nose and flexing your throat around him. You’re a natural, a pro, and it is not what he expected.
You pull back off of him, suctioning your lips at the very tip so hard that there’s an audible pop when you release his tip. You smile up at him, an “I told you” expression on your face that annoys him only a little. He tries to keep his profound tone from earlier as he recites another verse, but the groan of pleasure he let out moments ago has erased it.
But I discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified. -1 Corinthians 9:2
He grabs your hair again and plunges you back down on his dick. He places both huge hands on your cheeks, tucks his thumbs underneath your chin to angle you appropriately and fucks your face. Your sweet moans and his grunts in between scriptures he’s citing to you are tangled in a web as confusing as the one he’s weaving currently between the two of you.
Your throat is heaven sent; he convinces himself God would not have made your throat feel this good wrapped around his cock if he were not meant to use it for this occasion. He will do this task, recite the scripture, and in the end you’ll be reborn, brand new without your sin.
“Oh my lord I thank you for this woman, your child of god, “ he groans out as he feels you tighten your lips around him. He recites another verse when he hears you finally gag as he thrusts particularly deep down your gullet:
For the time already past is sufficient for you to have carried out the desire of the Gentiles, having pursued a course of sensuality, lusts, drunkenness, carousing, drinking parties and abominable idolatries.- 1 Peter 4:3
You’re doing well at maneuvering and adjusting to the speed in which he fucks you. You flatten your tongue at just the right moments when he thrusts for it to feel the best for him, and you suction your cheeks in when pulls out, almost as if you don’t want him to leave. A feral grunt pushes from deep within when you reach up to fondle and massage his balls. You can hear him swear to himself and then mutter, “Father forgive me,” before propelling his hips faster against your nose. You know he’s close and doesn’t plan on coming on your face as you assumed.
Good.
Let him cum down your throat. You’ll swallow every bit so when you talk to your mother later that evening, you’ll tell her, “It worked! I’m cured.” She’ll never know. You reach to grab a handful of the Father’s ass and hold him as his last few thrusts get sloppier. He grunts between words of the last scripture he’s trying to recite to you.
“Now ...flee from...youthful lusts and… uh.. I’m going to come..pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, w-with... th..those who call on the... Lord from... a...pure...heart!” -2 Timothy 2:22
He releases sticky white cum down your throat to punctuate his scripture, a cry of ecstasy breaking from his lips. You swallow all of it, even as it feels like it will never end. The funky saltiness rushes down your throat and when it’s all gone, you open your mouth to show the Father your achievement. He pants, eyes wide as you stand, wipe your mouth and eyes, and sashay away from the altar, hips switch seductively before looking over your shoulder and saying, “Thanks Father, I think I’m cured.”
Father Zeke understands now; this isn’t just a one time lesson. He understands what the Lord is doing, why he made it that his cock is still quite hard and aching for more of you. He knows now, this isn’t just one lesson. No, this is a lesson he will have to continuously teach you, sin he will continuously have to take away from you. Father Zeke grins to himself as he zips his cassock and prepares for the morning sermon. He can’t wait until it’s time to get rid of your sin again.
Cullen found his curiosity piqued. “Can you speak any other languages?”
With a sigh she straightened and reeled off an impressive list. “Orlesian obviously, Antivan, Nevarran.” She paused and tapped her finger to her chin in thoughtful contemplation. Cullen, despite himself was drawn to the action so close to her mouth, her plush pink lips looked soft and tempting. “My Tevene is rather rusty which is why I’m so glad Master Pavuus is a member of your little court. And I only know a few phrases in the Avaar tongue. Just enough to make the role-plays believable you understand” she winked with the final playful admission.
Cullen swallowed down the lump in his throat. He couldn't help but imagine her naked on furs, backlit by flame and presenting for her ‘thane.’ Eager and willing to offer up her body for barbaric and ritualistic lovemaking.
XXX
Amie is excited to be part of the Inquisition and eager to help in her own unique way. However she doesn't realize she has caught the attention of the previously unlucky in love Commander.
A Courtesan AU that's honestly just a bit of pwp fun but will quite possibly hit you in the feels - NSFW from Chapter 2 onwards.
iM DOING THIS FOR A FRIEND AM I GOOD FRIEND AaA
i am so sorry you know i had to do this
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requested; no
trigger warnings; nO isure hope not?? only that this sucks complete ass
kinks; a bit dirty talk or something i suck at kinks lol
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im such a good friend loL NO IM NOT SobS thIS IS SO FUCKIN RUSHED I HAD ONE DAY TO WRITE THIS OMGL (ps imsorrythisishort)
how to rush smut 101 w/ ashley-goranski
You were scrolling through Netflix, sitting up on your bed with only a sweater and panties. It was a late Friday night so you had decided to watch a movie before going to bed. Luckily for you, your SQUIP allowed this—he usually made you go to bed early but every now and then he’d let you stay up late but only on Friday or Saturday nights. You whined, not finding any movie you’re interested in, “Fine, I’ll just read lemons.” you muttered—you felt an electric shock surge through your body as your SQUIP materialized. “What did I say about reading lemons?” He asked, he looked. . .p i s s e d. “It’s not like I’m gonna masturbate to them!” You said, “Okay, but it’s gonna make you horny.” the SQUIP said. You rolled your eyes, huffing and letting yourself fall back—revealing your F/C panties. The SQUIP couldn’t help but stare, not gonna lie you and the SQUIP have liked each other for a while now?
But how? How does a computer have feelings?
Who the fuck knows?! One day he was updating and once it was finished he had more emotions than before—apparently the update gave him love emotion type thingy. He hated it. He hated feeling human emotions. Did I mention there was also an update that gave him a—
You noticed he was staring and quickly sat up, covering your panties with your sweater, “W-What are you looking at?!” you were as red as a tomato. “I-I apologize, that was unprofessional of me.” He fixed the neck of his trench coat.
“It’s. . .whatever.” You averted your eyes from his, thinking about how he was actually looking at your panties. His face turned a dark shade of blue, hearing your thoughts. With your luck, your thoughts wandered way too far and you ended up thinking about you and the SQUIP doing some things in bed, if you get where I’m coming from. The SQUIP didn’t zap you, he just looked at you—you quickly looked back at him and you were waiting to get zapped. He rolled his eyes, “God dammit, Y/N. If it’s not a ‘lemon’ getting you horny it’s your own damn thoughts.” he said—he didn’t swear that often so you were kind of surprised. He walked over to the bed, pinning you down. “I know this is. . .unprofessional of me, but I can’t help myself.” He kissed you. (Even though it’s just an illusion of him kissing you but you’re still happy with it.) You couldn’t help but smile, it gave you butterflies in your tummy and all—he smiled as well, aware that it filled you with joy. “I’m not gonna lie I kind of like, liked that but like yeah it’s not like yeah okay, yeah.” You said, he chuckled. “You’re incredibly adorable.” You blushed, looking away. “Show me your face, beautiful.” He smirked, you looked at him—”Since when did you get a damn sex drive?” you laughed. “Ever since my update.” He said, removing one hand from your wrist and sliding it down your side to your thigh. You shivered, his hand was so cold. “Before I go any further. . .do I have you consent?” He asked, you nodded—”Y-Yeah. . .I mean like I’ve kind of liked you or something for a while now.” He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “I know.” He muttered and slid your F/C panties off—putting his hand on your womanhood, causing you to gasp. He slid two fingers into you slowly, you let out a small moan. “Mmm. . .you like that, I see.” You nodded, he started to go faster—your leg twitched a bit. He took out his fingers, making you whine. He smirked and unbuckled his belt which just seemed to turn you on more—he took off his trench coat and looked at you, you were almost hypnotized by how good he looked—he chuckled and kissed you with a lot of love if I’m being honest. He pulled down his pants along with his boxers, still kissing you. He pulled away, “You ready?” he asked and you nodded. He positioned himself to your entrance, entering slowly—you winced making him look at you, “I-It hurts.” you spoke quietly as a tear rolled down your cheek, he kissed your cheek. “It’ll go away soon. I’ll go slow, love.” He said, slowly going in and out of you—the pain started to go away, “Y-You can go faster.” you said, moaning. He nodded and sped up a bit, you moaned and began to tug onto your bed sheet. “F-Faster. . .” You moaned, he complied.
He took one of his hands and put it on your cheek, “You like my cock, don’t you?” he said—knowing it would turn you on. You nodded, letting out a loud moan—you bit your lip, “Aw, come on love. . .let me hear your moans.” he said. You listened to him and stopped biting your lip.
He went faster, finally hitting your g-spot. “F-Fuck—right-” You could barely speak, it felt so good. He let out a loud groan, just that alone got you closer to your limit. “Y/N—” Your breaths got heavy, “I-I’m close. . .” you gripped your bed sheet tighter. His speed was probably inhumane but then again, he is a computer. You arched your back from the immense amount of pleasure—you two had reached your limit after a couple more thrusts, you almost screamed. He pulled up, putting his clothes back up—you laid there out of breath, he helped you put your panties back on and all after he had put his clothes back on. He kissed your forehead and laid down next to you, “We should do that more often.” you smirked, causing him to chuckle. Holy shit that chuckle was so fucking cute. “We’ll see.” He said, cuddling you because, well, he knew you loved that and that it’d make you happy. “Go to sleep, hun.” He said, “It’s getting late and you’re exhausted from sex.” You nodded, your eyes already closed. “I love you.” You muttered, about to fall asleep. He smiled, kissing your head, “I love you too.”
Sucking Miguel off while he’s manspreading on the couch. His long fingers in your hair, grasping the back of your head and pulling you down onto him. Drooling and gasping on his dick. Whining when it’s all too much and he grins, letting your head come up for air, watching your eyes flutter as you catch your breath. “Show me you love it, baby…” He husks, adjusting his fingers against your scalp and shuddering when you plant soft suckling kisses to the underside, up to his needy tip. His thumb caressing your cheek as you do it. Clenching his jaw and trying not to burst all over your pretty face. You’re looking in his dark eyes the whole time. Painting drool on your lips with his dick like lip gloss and kissing all the spots that make him groan and moan. Pushing up on your knees, your elbows on his thighs, sinking your plush lips down him. Hearing him gasp and sigh, his big hands running over your neck and shoulder blades and pushing your hair around to get it out of the way. “Oh you’re such a good girl…” He groans in a breathless whisper, making your pussy ache for him. Holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and bucking his hips up into your sweet soft mouth. Shaky hands on his thick thighs spread around you, squeezing your nails into his skin whenever he’s pushing too deep or hard. His head thrown back on the couch, looking down to keep watching you, getting harder every time he watches himself slip back into your mouth. Knowing no one else can have you like this. No one else can have what’s his. Your pink plush lips, eagerness to please, and big glossy eyes looking right up at him like you’re begging for something. He sits up more, feeling his release coming, building, his abdomen tensing and thighs threatening to close around you. Growling soft and murmuring whimpers of praise over you. His sweet girl sucking him so well. “Baby.” He’d sigh, one leg hooking around the back of your neck, pulling you closer and keeping you there, your hands wrapped around those thick thighs of his as he spurts in your mouth, on your tongue, down your throat.
