Sup welcome to dick. Warning!! Here there be FAT COCKED DRAGONS. (No actual dragons I'm boring and not a monster fucker. So boring that I gave my trolls dickheads).
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I'm Dylan or Cargo or i guess you can call me 🙄 Mr. Nut here. I love my men (and women!!!) hairy. I mostly post men. I like men a lot. Multi-fandom, mostly my own universes and trolls. I may post human dick!!!
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Summary:
You have a choice...let your convent perish or break your solemn vow...
Pairing:
Priest/Demon!Pedro Pascal X Nun!reader
Warnings:
Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Loss of Virginity, Blasphemy, Religious Trauma, Dubious Consent, Rape, Violence, demon contract, Sexual Coercion, Cunnilingus, P in V intercourse, Demonic possession,
Author Notes: Inspired by this piece of artwork and the Game of Thrones Oberyn depiction. Please be aware this story is blasphemous against the Catholic church and Christianity. If you are severely devoted to Christ and do not like his word being judged or misinterpreted or mistreated, please do not read this. This is not an accurate representation of the Catholic church or Christianity. This is just a sick, twisted, perverted smut I've written.
𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐♱𖤐
“Sister,” his calming soft tone carried through the kitchen. You still jumped at his voice.
Spinning on your feet away from your dough, you felt flushed.
Father Pedro was a handsome man...but a man of God foremost and shouldn’t have been in your inner desires. You were meant to be a wife of god!
“How are you?” he asked, a small smile graced his the corners of lips. He entered the kitchen, slowly pacing around the island countertop you were working at. His eyes scanned the mess, egg shells and flour. He glanced back with a spritely amusement in his eyes.
You cleared your throat and bobbed your head.
“I am well Father,” you licked your bottom lip, “how are you?”
“I feel brilliant!” He announced with wide eyes and a toothy smile. ‘God why was he so handsome?’ He had recently trimmed his face, his goatee and beard was cleaner, you tried not to sigh smelling the aftershave wharfing into the room.
He stopped in front of you and tilted his head down at you, “What are you doing?”
Your mouth felt slippery. You had been salivating. You sucked your teeth and nervously smiled...you really had made a mess.
“Mother Superior said I should bake biscuits for tomorrows all saints day, as an offering.”
He nodded and looked around the kitchen curiously before he noted sympathetically, “And none of your sisters are here to help you?”
You shook your head and turned back to fondling the dough. Your dark dress was covered in white flour despite the apron around your waist. Your habit suddenly felt extra tight on your skull as you saw him just staring at you.
You decided to elaborate.
“They are far more patient and devout in their prayers,” you swallowed, containing your humiliation, “I find I am still learning...sometimes I think I’m still a novice. Mother Mary guides me but...”
“But?”
You felt the flutter of your chest...you stared at your hands...these filthy tools...they were the devices between your legs at night while you beheld his face in your mind.
The abbess didn’t like you much either, the old crow was determined to banish you from the church you swore by the amount of chores the inflicted onto you alone. She sneered at you from the moment of your arrival.
You wondered if it was her goal to just crush your soul and joy to share the word of god. Maybe it was because you stupidly corrected her Latin one breakfast... Maybe because you questioned her critical judgement on the unwed mother’s coming to Sunday sermons...maybe because you were so young and at the bottom of authority.
You tried to keep your contempt hidden and prayed most nights that she would be kinder and just ignore you instead of her onslaught of back handed comments and commands of hard labour.
What was worse...the other sisters had turned against you... It wasn’t a coincidence after the third time during prayer that they’d step on your skirts and pinch the edges of your habit.
Why did Mother Mary and the saints ignore your pleas?
Only Father Pedro had shown you a kind smile...but he was always nice to everyone... And overtime he ignored you too...
So you savoured any moment you had with this holy man. His face and voice filled your mind in the depths of night. Beneath the covers of your bed you would seek out the heavenly bliss and rise of lust. You dreamed of carnal acts...yearn for his lips and his voice in your ears.
“Oh nothing,” you felt a bead of sweat rolling down your forehead, “I’m just in my head again.”
He continued to smile and lifted a hand to the kitchen bench, “May I help?”
Your eyes blinked, you hadn’t expected such kindest from him.
“Of course,” you leant of the bench and plucked the rolling pin and rolled into the lumps, “I’ve already made the dough, now I’m just rolling it out and cutting them into shapes.”
He rolled up his sleeves and brushed you away, he took the rolling pin and flattened the dough equally out. You shouldn’t have stared, but his bare forearms were so strong with the force he pushed and pulled with the rolling pin. A small veins run up his muscle. Your mind wondered how he muscled he was beneath the robes...
You held up the cookie cutters and began cutting out the dough and laying the pieces out in a paper covered tray to slide into the oven. He to open the heavy metal door for you. The heat fan hot over your face.
He shut the hot oven closed and looked over the bench beside it that was covered in the already baked biscuits.
“The dough left over now will be the last batch,” You turned and caught his glances at the cookie between his thumb and finger. He picked up one and held it up to the light. His eyes narrowed at it.
“Let me see...saint Magdalene, saint Michael and saint...”
He picked a deformed squished biscuit that had a half face and a hand. The edges were burnt and was covered in cracks.
You bashfully exclaimed, “oh that one was a little mutated, it’s meant to be Saint Catherine.”
He chuckled and bit into it. The crumbs dropped down his chin...you gasped, wish you could lick them off.
“Delicious!” He exclaimed with a happy hum. He loudly chewed away and went to reach for another biscuit before you leant forward and smacked his hand away.
“Father,” You began to giggle, “They’re meant to be for tomorrow.”
He cradled his slapped hand and lifted it, pinching your chin and jaw.
The holy man lifted his brows at your giggling self, “Are you scolding me?”
Your smile vanished, his face was soft but serious now. He was the one person here you didn’t want to hate you.
You shook your head frantically, “I wouldn’t dare to Father please forgive my impertinence.”
His grin returned and he released your face, “its alright child...your sisters and the abbess are in chapel in prayer yes?” he asked dusting his hands of the crumbs.
“That’s right Father.”
Be smiled and looked over the kitchen once more, “come join us when you’ve put the last batch in the oven.”
“Yes father.”
He winked at you and turned on his heel, leaving you in the kitchen to finish your last cookies.
It was like breath returned back to your chest when he left. God why was he so handsome!?
****
You stepped quickly to the main chapel to meet up with your holy sisters and listen to whatever spontaneous sermon the father might share with you all.
Something you found strange was the lack of any monks. Normally you’d run into your holy brothers by now. They didn’t talk to you much but they always waved to you as the walked along the halls. And yet there was not a single brother or sister walking about.
You stopped before the large wooden doors and swallowed. Now was not the time to make a scene of yourself. You gently grasped the handles and pulled the door as lightly as you could. You dared not interrupt your sisters prayer or the Father’s sermon.
The insides of the church were a mass of candle light shining light up onto the stained glass faces of the saints and the crucified Jesus at the head of the church.
On the ceiling was a replica painting of that in the great cathedral. Angels and cherubims flew through the clouds and blew trumpets at the depiction of Saint Michael battling Satan.
The church was lined in pews with six each on both sides. And the congregation of the clergy filled those seats. Nuns on the left and monks on the right. And father at his stand beneath the depiction of crucified Christ.
To the outsiders gaze, it was a truly beautiful place to contemplate and find comfort, with a sense of unity and community that might be felt throughout.
“Ah Sister,” you heard Father Pedro call out, “You’ve finally arrived.”
Not a single head turned to welcome you in. You felt the silent scorn as loud as the heavenly drums.
He waved for you to come closer.
You bowed your head and hurriedly scurried to the front of the house.
And when you were about to take the last remaining seat, you heard a sniffling cry... To your left was sister Jeanne, she looked as stiffly sat as the rest of them. Her hands were clasped in prayer, her rosary between her fingers...but what peaked through her closed fingers dribbled down her hands and dripped onto the floor was blood...
Your eyes widened. What strike of devotion compelled sister jeanne to harm herself.
Her eyes were wide open and glanced at you, her lips grimaced back and her teeth unlocked with a bob.
The noise that imminent from the nun was haunting...for she cried, “Run!”
You took a frightened step back and almost fell into the pew of your brothers in Christ.
A growl as deep and fearsome as a savage dog echoed the stone walls. The hairs on the back of your neck rose and a cold sweat grew. The holy priest was hunched over his stand and snarled in a deep tone, “Shut your fucking mouth.”
You jumped at his slanderous curse, for never had you heard the man make such a remark. You were scared and confused. The other members of the church you noticed were identical to sister Jeanne’s case. They were all rigidly sat with hands in prayer and blood seeping out from their palms or lips.
Your belly churned, “F-father...what’s happening?” you three your head back at the priest who stood above you, walking your way with stretched out hands.
“Oh nothing sweet girl...” he said with false concern before shutting his eyes and blinking them open to reveal nothing but solid black darkness in his orbs.
He smugly smirked, “Except I’m not your father.”
You warily took a step back unaware of the shaking in your voice as your dared to ask him, “Wh-what are you?”
You touched your rosary for comfort as you took another step back from him while he followed you slowly.
“Wh-wha-what a are youuu,” he mocked and laid a hand on his chest before throwing his head back and cackled, “What do you think I am?...take a guess.”
He shoved his hands into his robe pockets and tapped his foot methodically.
You trembled. But seeing the face of Jesus behind this creature was a comfort and a surge of bravery shot through you. You clenched your fists and planted your feet.
You lifted your chin and spat, “Something unholy.”
He hummed and nodded, fluttering his inky eyes, “Oooo you’re warm, keep guessing.”
“You’re a demon...” you dared to state.
He stepped closer but you held your ground and stayed in your place. He glanced you up and down.
“Smart girl...” He purred deliciously, “You’re not as stupid as the other nuns take you for.”
His hand lifted up and you tried not to gulp as you let the demon rest his finger tips beneath your chin.
Your eyes fluttered shut, you didn’t want to look at him. You prayed god would protect you in his holy embrace. You were not just a wife to him but a warrior within. You reminded yourself that you carried a righteous spear as a holy Christian. To anger the demon was dangerous. You needed to be tactful...to distract him. You needed to find a way to be stronger than your brothers and sisters in banishing this creature.
“What do you want?” you tried to say calmly.
“Oh isn’t that sweet,” he chuckled, “Straight to the bargaining, your stupid sisters thought prayer would fix this but you?...I like you...let’s make a deal.”
Your eyes flashed open and your gritted your teeth. Your hands rolled into fists. You would be strong!
“No,” you said, cutting off his unholy hopes.
He touched his lips.
“Oh c’mon,” he sighed and brushed his thumb over your mouth before turning his back on you and walking back up the pews, “You haven’t even heard it yet, what I’m offering...” he curled his fingers for you to follow. To appease him you did. He knelt on the altar cushion and patted a spot beside him, he wanted you to sit.
A part of you screamed to defy him and flee, abandoning the congregation all together...
You reminded yourself that any temptation he would offer, even love, would be untrue, unrighteous and damnable.
You glanced at those behind you. All their eyes welled with crystal tears. They were in desperate pain, forced in their positions of bent prayer.
You lifted your skirt, showing off your little black shoes and stocking socks as you knelt slowly beside the demonic being.
It hurt you knowing this was not the holy priest you came to fall deeply in emotion for. His face and head were the same but those eyes...those eyes that were usually a light gold were now a solid wet black.
“How about this,” he leant down and softly plucked your hand from your lap. It took all of God’s strength to not tremble. The demons touch was warm and gave you a false sense of safety.
“I will leave. I’ll even let your beloved sisters, brothers, abbess and priest here live...” he proclaimed and pressed his hot mouth to the back of your palm. Then he sighed and whispered, “If you give me your virgin blood.”
Your stomach dropped.
You tore your hand away and clenched it to your chest. You gripped your rosary and felt your lips quiver.
How dare he.
“I...I can’t...my vows...”
As a nun your heart was meant to be true and on the straight path of god. You were the trinities spiritual daughter and holy bride. You were to remain pure forever until death as a symbol of your piety and devotion. You would follow the example of the virgin Mother Mary.
You heard the demon scoff and were torn to look up at him roughly by the chin. His thumb pressed hard into your jaw and you whimpered in pain.
“You already broke your vows when you started thinking of the padre here in a lustful senses...”
Your lips parted and your face heated. Embarrassment and fear flowed through you. What else did he know?
“You really believe he hasn’t heard you in the night touching yourself? Your vows? Please,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “You’re practically a little whore masquerading as a holy nun.”
His fingers brushed up your cheek before pinching your earlobe softly. He smirked and hummed, daring you to deny the truth.
You sniffled and used your body strength to shove him away. You stood up abruptly and gasped, “Stop.”
His face fell and his eyes closed with a great displeasure. He clapped his hands and rose to his feet. He shrugged as he watched you walk back away from him with your rosary clenched in your hand. You rose your cross at him like you were trying to banish some sort of vampire away.
“Fine. You didn’t like the Abbess,” he snapped his fingers and the superior mother squealed like a pig as her body lifted from the front pew and was dragged along the stoney floor towards the alter, “She’s the most suitable sacrificial candidate.”
From thin air materialised a dagger blade that curved. It was pale white and made of bone. It’s sharp point glinted in the candle light.
It hovered over the abbess. You had to act fast.
“Please! God no! No!!! Please!!” the older woman begged and wept for her life.
“Wait! I’ll do it! Please! Take me!!” you cried.
You ran forward and stole the knife before it was able to plunge down into the woman’s neck.
The demon clapped his hands and flew the old woman back to her place in the pews.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he cackled, “Here we are...bare witness as a demon fucks a nun in a house of God.”
The blade disappeared from your hands and your shoulders shook.
You were terrified as he stepped closer and closer to you. He took your hand and gently pulled you to the direction of the alter. He pushed you up and made you sit on the side of it. You cuddled yourself and tried to not cry but the hot tears rolled down your cheeks nonetheless.
You looked to your left at the group of scared and helpless people.
“Just promise you’ll release them,” you whispered as he started to lean over you, making you lay back on the alter stone, “No harm will come upon them if I do this.” Your palm rested on his chest, pushing him as you stared him in the eyes.
“Give me your palm child,” he said in his softest voice so far. It was too close to that of Father Pedro. It hurt.
You left him touch your left hand and rub his thumb over your fingers and palm. He leant down and kissed it.
He manifested that same bone blade and rested the sharp length along your palm. He clamped his hand over yours and dragged the weapon across and deep into both your skin. You hissed and began to weep instantly.
It hurt so badly as his clenched your hands together and rubbed the blood in. On the back of your left hand a raw sizzling sound was heard before a bloom of red hot agony hit you.
You screamed with true torture as you looked down through wet lashes and choked at the sight. You were shaking your head as you understood the symbol mark well.
The seal of Asmodeus...
“I know it stings,” he hushed you and pressed his lips to your cheek chastely before licking the blood off your palm and kissing the searing mark that was melting into a bright scar, “It’s alright,” he soothed, “you’re alright.”
And true to his words, you were. The pain disappeared but the mark remained.
A demon contract was to be fulfilled.
“Now, let’s get this off,” he said pushing your habit back over your ears and down your back, “Oh look at your pretty hair...who knew this was hiding under that black cloth.”
His eyes softened in a strange way for that of a dark eyed demon. His lips were not curled in mockery even as he plucked at the buttons of your dress. He undressed you slowly and spread the fabric apart. You half expected him to be animalistic and rip through it.
Clad in your plain highrise briefs and modest bra. His hands skated down to your legs and danced over your black tight stockings.
You couldn’t look anymore and desired him to get it over and done with. You shut your eyes and covered them with your arms as you wept silently.
His hot heavy hands skating along your belly and almost enticed a frightful ticklish giggle out of your mouth. You slapped your hand on your mouth. You dared not give him that satisfaction nor the horror of the clergy.
He sucked his teeth and sighed, he peeled both your hands back down to the stone. Your eyes remained tightly shut as he pinched the crotch of the stockings and cut through them with the knife that vanished once more. You heard and felt his tugging tear. He pulled down your underwear and you whimpered.
“Oh sweet sister...what kind of nun keeps a bald pussy? You truly are a sinner.”
You didn’t have the opportunity to shut or cross your legs as he forced himself between your knees and thighs.
“I want to fuck you like this...” he sighed, his hands cupped your face. His body was warm pressu g down and leaning over you. His lips tickled yours as he said against them, “I want you to look at me as I take and rip you open.”
His thumbs peeled your eyelids open and your quickly grabbed his wrists, trying to pull him off.
“Please don’t make me watch!” You desperately pleaded.
“Open your eyes or I’ll burn those eyelids off.”
Your eyes widened open and watched as he cut through the middle of your bra. Your breasts hung down from the lack of support and you tried shutting your eyes before you saw his glare. His promise was true and your hand with the seal felt warm.
He pulled back up and knelt on the stone floor. His hand rested on your belly and you shrieked as a hot tongue wet slid up your cunt and down, dipping into your hole while his nose pressed into your clit.
He gasped and sucked hard. The sound was loud and wet. You felt how he licked inside you. Your thighs were trembling already.
You wished you could’ve kicked him away and off but his hands with holding your ankles down the side of the alter.
“It tastes better than your biscuits,” he moaned into your thigh. His teeth scratched your sensitive and delicate skin.
He flicked at your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking your labia and drinking in the moist wetness leaking from your hole.
“Oh god,” you keened breathlessly as you were carried through a small orgasm.
“Yes start praying, let’s see if your god will save you from the demon lavishing your cunt,” he mumbled against your wet flesh.
He peeled your lips back and spread your petals, it was uncomfortable seeing how he just stared down the tunnel of your vaginal opening...could he see it? The fleshy hymen that lay hidden?
You weren’t even sure if you had one anymore. You would only use a single finger to fuck yourself with while you imagined the priest face and his body under his robes. You hadn’t bled except for your time of the month. You didn’t like touching yourself then, it was too messy.
He stood up slowly and loomed above. His eyes locked at your chest lifting and falling with every strangled pant.
He unbuttoned the button of his cossack. He peeled it open and unbuckled the dark trousers beneath. You felt like you were violating the priests privacy...did he know what was happening beneath the possession? Would he understand? Would he forgive you?
Tears filled your eyes. You wished he was truly there to tell you everything was alright and that he didn’t mind. You would’ve been more receptive to the priest if he agreed to this.
The priest would never have raped you.
You stared up at the painted ceiling and whimpered. You didn’t want to watch him. Didn’t want to see the cock you felt touching your naked thigh.
It was hot skin touching your soft cold thigh. It twitched and you flinched feeling your belly churn.
The hot head was like a soft velvet rubbing up to your clit back down to your entrance. You felt him push and the stretch that followed.
Your eyes bulged and you dared to look down at the cock now inside you. Your mouth flapped open in shock. He was tightly shoved in and going deeper.
You groaned as your body was being pulled apart and stretched. He groaned with you. But it started to sting...and then it was like a stab. You felt gutted down there as he gave a foul thrust inside and broke your virgin wall.
“Please stop, it hurts, it burns, please!!!” you sobbed as you glanced between his rocking hips and his snarling grin.
Your hands reached up and clenched the top of his robes. Your eyes pleaded up at his as he fucked you carefully. It hurt but it could’ve been so much worse. His hands cupped your hip and waist.
His fingers snakes up and pinched at your nipple, forcing a shriek and blubbering whimper out of your lips.
“Ohhhh dear thing, your little cries are the sweetest sonnets,” he moaned and shoved his mouth over yours. He forced in tongue into your mouth and you thought about biting down before remembering this body belonged to Father Pedro not to the demon, you had no idea what the priest could feel right now. The sharpness of your teeth or maybe the hot ripples of your strangling cunt.
He was a large man and it was no surprise you felt like he was entering your belly with how hard he pushed inside. You felt like he was batting your insides.
The smell of metal hit your nose and glanced down from his black eyes you saw the dark crimson coating his dick. His hand left the torture of your chest and flicked down to dig his thumb against your pearl.
You shuddered and moaned. Your eyes widened in horror at the sound that fell from you. It was sending rockets of pleasure up your spine as he moved inside you while patting at your sensitive skin.
The demon heard the moan and smirked. He quickened his speed.
“Take it out! Please!”
He laughed and shook his head, “Oh no no not after that moan. Youre enjoying this you pretty little slut.”
He bulleted through inside you and watched how your eyes fluttered. Sweat started rolling down from your face and chest. The shine gleamed in the candle light.
“Look at that, how do you like that wench?” He huffed, “Balls deep with your priest.”
You felt them, his balls hitting your backside.
You buried your face into his neck and realised there was only one thing your could do now. You dared to pray.
“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele,” Saint Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, you wept. He paused his thrusting and smirked. His tongue licked at your ear and you felt his nails dig into your naked back.
You mimicked him but was only blocked by the top half of his cossack. You felt his nails drag and the hot blood of your back follow.
The pain of his claws and pleasure of his thrusting pressure mixed in a twisted way that made you see stars.
You tried hard to focus on the Latin. You needed this to stop. He was a powerful being and he needed to be sent away. He promised to not harm anyone if he got your virgin blood. He had it now... Why was he still here? You needed to banish him to the underworld where he belonged.
“Defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates,” Defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, you continued shakily.
The demon started laughing cruelly and paused momentarily to pinch your chin and force you to look at Brother Enoch who was sitting front centre with the other reluctant monks. He was the head gardener in the convent. He made the best lettuces for dinner salads and kindly let you eat the cherry tomatoes when helping him plant seedlings. He was a older gentleman, probably old enough to be your father.
“Oh, getting twitchy there brother?” The demon clicked his tongue and pointed at the monks front where his brown robes appeared to tent in a sharp point. You felt I’ll at the site.
The monks face became red with shame and anger.
The demon inside Father Pedro mocked the monk heavily, “You like watching your priest rape your fellow sister in Christ?”
He thrust into you hard, you hissed sharply at the unexpected slam.
The demon narrowed his dark eyes and scoffed.
“See the lot of you are just pretending to be so holy and devout while you are all truthfully whores and sadists. And here they damn my name and the name of my father...when it is us that give you such pleasuring desires.”
His head bent down and sucked at your chest. His tongue and teeth nibbled at your nipples.
Your fingers dove through his thick dark locks. You gripped his hair as he played with your tits in his mouth and slowed his pace.
You stuttered and moaned.
“Adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus,” Against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places, you whimpered.
He pulled of your tits with a pop and a low hum, “Is that what I am? Spiritalia nequitiae? Spiritual wickedness?”
You sniffled loudly and ignored him. You were close to finishing the prayer.
“Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem,” Carry our prayers up to God’s throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, you choked.
He chuckled and cupped your face. He played with your clit again and liftened your ankles over his shoulders so he could enter deeper.
“Here,” he moaned, “Let me help you- Serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes,” the serpent of old, Satan and his deButmons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations.
He slammed hard and through his head back.
Your eyes widened...you shuddered through the aftermath of your orgasm, “Amen.”
The demon roared and black smoke rose from his lips and eyes and ears. He shook and his roaring announcement broke the stained glass windows.
You felt his body shake and his body relax. His eyes tight shut while he panted. When he caught his breath his eyes peaked open...the black orbs were white and gold.
The look of sheer horror returned to the face of the holy priest. His eyes wide, his mouth quivered. He glanced down and stared at his cock still tucked deep inside your hot centre.
“Y/N?” he gasped.
Your eyes filled with tears, “F-father.”
He broke into sobs over your body and tugged violently out of you. He covered his blood covered cock and shielded himself away by turning his back on you.
You weakly pushed your body off the alter while hearing the priest weep, “Dear god, oh sweet Jesus forgive me...forgive me...”
As you picked up the rags of your robes, you watched as the members of the convent all were released from their invisible bindings.
Blood and the symbol of the crucified was seared into their palms.
Their faces curled up in disgust, pity, anger, and sadness.
“How dare you desecrate our holy church in your filth and wickedness!” Screamed the old Abbess. She lifted her skirts and stormed toward you, the back of her wrinkle hand slapped hard against your face. The violent pressure cause your lip to split. You were shocked and in pain as you cupped the hot hit.
She spat at you and stood back, glaring at your scarred hand.
No one stood up to defend you and the priest was bent over still sobbing into the corner of the church.
You felt your fists curl and your body begin to shake. No one defended you...no one cared...
You had just been violated by a demon to save them, sacrificed yourself for them and what did you get? A literal slap in the face.
“Fuck you mother superior...” You started to angrily sob, “I saved you...I saved all of you.”
None could look you in the eye.
“You made a deal with that thing, that creature of hell,” said sister Jeanne
Brother Enoch covered his erection as he barked, “You gave up your sacred vows for his schemes. Your weakness and lust pollutes this church.”
You blinked back more tears. You slowly shook your head and took a step back.
“....you truly hold no empathy...” you shuddered and licked a tear, sniffling, “no humanity in your hearts.”
The Abbess continued her foul glare and pointed at the door with her boney finger.
“Go,” her voice echoed the church.
You walked down the middle of the pews past her and everyone. Many of their eyes stared at the stone floor, watching the trail of red drops, no doubt spilling from between your legs.
You locked the church doors behind you in shame. It was best to leave them.
You didn’t even think to grab your belongings. They weren’t really yours. One of the vows is charity and sacrifice and giving up your worldly possessions...
You left the property and as you passed the gates still pathetically holding the rags to your body you could hear above your crying a deep soothing voice.
“Leaving so soon when the fun just got started?”
You shrieked and spun on your toes.
Father Pedro stood behind you with his hands behind his back...no...surely not.
He blinked his white eyes and they became dark once more.
“I thought you had been banished...” you sniffled and wiped your face across the back of your hand.
He chuckled, “Why? Because of the black smoke and sob show? My false pleas And prayers? Please,” he rolled his dark eyes again before humming mockingly at you, “He didn’t even know your real name.”
You were angry. You hated him and what he had done to you, how he made you feel. How he mocked your crush.
“...What do you want now?” You huffed and tore off your rosary, throwing them at him, “You promised not to kill them if I gave you my virginal blood. Now go away!”
He cocked his head to the side and awed with a soft tutter “Regretting it?”
You glanced to your black shoes and shook your head,
“I cant be here anymore.”
All were welcome in the house of god, but tonight you had been excommunicated surely...you thought you were helping.
“Yes, that little spectacle was entertaining...” he said taking off his cossack and draping it over your naked shoulders, “Perhaps not as entertaining as that though.”
You lifted your head and saw a bright yellow orange in the night lighting up the convent and church...in the distance you could hear their screams. The flames rose high, totally covering the buildings in a quick fire.
The closest payphone was over a mile away and there was no firetruck that could drive back in time from town to save your brothers and sisters in Christ
“Oh god!”
You glanced back at him helplessly. He promised not to hurt them.
“Oh dear...did you leave the oven on?” He cackled and tugged you closer to him by your waist. He hummed happily. “...happy hallows eve little Nun.”
His lips pressed to your cheek...and his eyes sparkled at the tiny lift of your lips. You wouldn’t dare to say it, he didn’t need to hear it, he knew you were glad they were suffering. For you were connected by seal and blood.
For we are all sinners in the end. You had finally accepted that.
rating: mature; 18+ only | cross posted on ao3 here
"truth or dare?"
steve's looking at eddie expectantly while he waits for his answer, his eyes wide and cheeks pushed up from the grin pulling at his lips. he's shirtless from past dares and eddie's trying hard to not look at the hair covering his chest, to not look at the way his scars have faded into a pretty dusty pink, to not look at the flexed muscles in his arm from where it's slung over the back of the couch and he's definitely not looking at the way the movement pulls his pec up.
they aren't high enough for this, not drunk enough for it either, but he feels intoxicated. maybe that's just what being around steve harrington at 2am does to him. it makes him stupid.
"...truth?"
steve's grin grows wide enough to challenge even the cheshire cat and eddie knows that truth was the wrong choice. see? stupid.
the hand on the back of the couch tightens and eddie can feel the way it pulls the cushion under his back, the fabric creasing against his shoulder blade. steve's leaning in a tiny bit closer, same wild grin on his face, and eddie feels himself stop breathing. he tries to remain calm, tries to keep an even expression on his face, but when steve harrington is in his presence, it's harder than it seems.
"okay... truth," steve's close enough that eddie can see the specks of green in his eyes and he tries to focus on that instead of how he can almost feel breaths that aren't his own on his lips.
"what's your biggest turn on?"
whatever breath eddie attempts to suck in gets stuck in his throat and turns into a cough forcing steve to pull away cackling. he isn't in eddie's face anymore but he can still feel him, can still sense the barely there exhale on his face, can still only see steve green behind his eyelids.
"what the fuck, dude?!" is all he can get out. his palms are sweaty so he rubs them furiously over his jeans, scowling at his fingers when they get stuck in the small rips.
steve is laughing at the other end of the couch but his arm is still settled over the back of it, creating the most delicious tension on his chest. he looks broad like this, broader than eddie's really ever seen him. and with his hand across the couch and his legs opened just slightly and his bare chest on display and his bright white teeth glinting in the dim moonlight he looks-
he's hot.
he looks like the old steve, all cock-sure and suave, like he knows he can get absolutely whatever he wants. it does eddie's head in. is he what steve wants? is he why steve looks like he could jump on anything and everything that came his way? is he why steve thought he could ask him about his turn ons as easy as if he was asking about the weather?
"i don't have-"
"oh bullshit," steve says with a flick of his free hand. "everyone has one, man. what gets you all hot and bothered?"
eddie tilts his head up with a scoff. "why do you want to know?"
"consider it your average every day bonding." he says it like it's obvious, like all guys do when they sit around and play sleepover games like they're kids again is talk about what they like in bed.
but eddie's drunk on steve in 2am moonlight and can't help himself for giving him everything.
"i like dirty talk."
he'd always give steve everything.
steve's grin shifts into something borderline feral that has eddie vibrating under his skin. he moves his hips and settles back into the arm of the couch, leveling eddie with his gaze. his eyes are heavy when they look at him and eddie feels glued to the spot.
"oh yeah?" steve's inflection sounds exactly like what eddie craves for and he's afraid that he's shown all his cards already if steve was able to pick up on it that fast. "like what?"
he rolls his eyes if only so that he can take them away from watching steve's muscles contorting as he shifts on the couch. it's not hard to get eddie in the mood, that's the embarrassing thing. his limited experience before he learned about alternate dimensions and things living under hawkins didn't exactly help his case. he didn't exactly have guys throwing themselves at him as a social pariah covered in still healing scars, either.
so steve looking at him with those eyes and that grin and without a shirt for god's sake? not helpful.
"i don't know, i just-" his mind supplies images that gets his cock stirring. a certain king of hawkins under him or on top of him or right behind him whispering things in his ear that he had never really thought about before.
"-i just like hearing the effect i have on them, i guess."
and then without warning steve is moving. he's up on his hands and knees and is leaning into eddie's personal space again, his face close enough to eddie's that he can see that damn green in his eyes again.
there's still a bit of space between then but not nearly enough that eddie isn't effected by it. steve's pinkie is brushing his thigh and his cock that was already interested just thinking about the sounds steve could make is stirring even more awake under his gaze.
"you like hearing you're doing good?" steve questions. eddie sighs. "you like all the moans and stuff?"
all eddie can do is nod, afraid that if he speaks that he'll do something embarrassing like say he wants to pull whatever sound out of steve that he'd let him. suddenly, steve's pulling away minutely to get his mouth close to eddie's ear, breath coming out in puffs against his skin.
"oh fuck," steve huffs out, voice pitched high and dainty. feminine. "oh, oh eddie, it's so good."
eddie grips his hands onto his knees like they're the only thing keeping here on planet earth as steve moans in his ear. his cock is starting to grow, whatever blood that was left in his head heading south fast and it's leaving him dizzy. from up close, he's sure steve can see what he's doing if he was to look down. he's wearing sweatpants that don't exactly hide anything, after all.
the sounds steve are making are all light and pretty like he's going off of his own experience and eddie has the fleeting thought that it's what girls sound like under him. that some girl has been pressing up close to steve's chest and had her pretty pink lips up close to his ear as he fucked her into the mattress. but oh, if eddie had the courage he'd tell him. tell him that he doesn't want to hear some girl, some stranger.
he wants to hear steve.
"you gonna take care of that?" steve's voice is back to somewhat normal, a bit raspy and deep, and it floods through eddie's veins like molten lava. he doesn't remember closing his eyes but he peels them open and turns his head to look at steve. he follows his gaze and sees that they're both looking at how turned on eddie is. he doesn't have enough blood left in his cheeks to blush but he would if he could.
"steve, that's wei-"
a hand wrapping over his knee stops him mid sentence. "not weird. do it. i want you to."
eddie gulps even though his throat feels drier than it's ever been. steve's fingers tighten and he jerks his chin up to urge him on and fuck, he knew he'd always give steve whatever he wanted.
"can you just," eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth as he drops his hand to his waistband, fingers teasing under the fabric. "sound like you, please?"
the silence feels palpable. he can feel every place that his clothes are touching him, every place that steve is touching him, every place his breath has fallen on him that evening. he has half a mind to take it back and tell him he was joking, to pretend like he's some girl again and eddie could get off on that, too. he could at least try, especially if it was steve.
but then- "eddie, fuck."
steve's mouth is close to his ear again, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear as he groans into it. his voice is pitched deep but it's definitely undeniably steve. he shifts onto his knees so he can drape his arm behind eddie once more. not touching, but there and as eddie's hand slips under the fabric to grip at his cock, they both let out a sigh.
"yeah, there you go. gonna touch yourself for me, hmm?"
"shit," eddie groans out as his hand trails over his weeping cock. he brings his thumb up to gather a bit of the precome that's dribbled out of the top and rubs it between his fingers before gliding them down his length. steve's panting these little sounds into his ear that mirror eddie's own moans. when he sighs, steve sighs, when he whines, steve whines.
it's like he's touching himself to get steve off, too, and isn't that something to think about? them laying side by side with each other's dicks in their hands, stroking just how the other likes to get them off. he'd watch steve's face, speed up when his eyes open and slow down when he's close. he'd buck his hips into steve's steady grip, swallow the moans he pulls out of him so they echo through his body. it'd be heaven on a mattress or hardwood floor or ratty couch in a ratty trailer.
"got me all hard in my jeans, eddie." steve breathes out and eddie can't see is he's lying or not but it sounds true and eddie briefly wonders if steve should go into porn with those acting skills. "the way you look with your hand in your pants, jesus, it's a sin. all flushed and hot and, god-"
if steve keeps it up, eddie is going to be done way faster than he wants to be. his hand speeds up when steve lets out a particularly loud moan in his ear and then there's a brush of denim against his arm and wow, steve was in fact not lying. his hips keep jumping up to get pressure against eddie's forearm and the long line of steve's cock is teasing him.
"steve," he whines out, "are you..."
"of course i am," he laughs against eddie's ear before sneaking a tiny kiss to his temple. "you're so fucking hot, dude. been wanting to do this for too long. too long, oh my god."
his hand that was on eddie thigh moves up to unbutton his pants and slides under his own waistband and eddie takes a moment to slow his strokes as he looks up at steve. he looks like a greek god in grungy trailer lighting, chest shimmering with sweat and puffing with heavy breaths. he's grinning down at eddie and he feels like he could float away.
"think i'm hot, stevie?" he says on a shuddering breath as he hits a spot on his cock that he immediately goes to find again. steve smirks before his eyes roll back as he gets a hand on his own dick.
"so hot, so fucking-"
he's cut off by a moan and eddie sends up a silent thank you to the universe that they have the trailer to themselves for the next few days because eddie needs to pull more of those out of him. he needs steve on his back and on his cock and in his mouth and on his fingers and every which way he'll let him have him if it means he gets to hear more of that.
"gonna get my mouth on you soon enough, gotta know what you taste like. gonna get you down my fucking throat..."
steve's brought his mouth back down to eddie's ear and is grunting like he's running the race of a lifetime while he tells eddie what he wants to do him. says truths of his own outside of the now forgotten game, secrets laced with some of the most romantic things eddie's ever been told. tells him how pretty he is, how good he is, how he's imagining eddie's fingers on his cock and on his skin and how he's close, close, close.
knowing he's effecting steve this much, knowing he has this hold on him that he thought was one sided, knowing that he's racing through steve's veins like he's racing through eddie's, it's too much.
"i'm... fuck- i'm gonna," eddie's hand speeds up and the hand on the back of the couch comes up to tangle in his hair. there's a pressure pulling him back until he's looking at the ceiling for a second until all he can see is steve and the flecks of green he's come to love.
"it's okay, i've got you, come on. let me just-"
their first kiss is shared on a ratty couch in a ratty trailer with their hands in their pants and come covering their fingers. eddie's mouth is open enough that he's moaning into steve's and the hand on the back of his head is twitching while he comes. they pull apart enough that eddie can hear what they sound like as they work through their orgasms together, can hear what steve sounds like as he works himself down.
he's going to get that on a record someday, he tells himself. it'll go platinum.
and just as quick as it started, it's over. only this time steve's snuggling up next to him and using his clean hand to stroke over the exposed skin on eddie's stomach instead of returning to the opposite end of the couch. their chests are heaving as they try and regain their composure and it feels like bliss until steve laughs.
it's like an ice bucket being poured over him and he wishes he didn't love hearing steve so much because he's afraid that the laugh will haunt his memories for ages to come. steve must feel him freeze up because the hand on his stomach circles around his waist and pulls him even closer so he can nuzzle his face into eddie's chest. it starts to settle the nerves that had wound themselves around his insides.
"i don't know if you could tell," he starts, voice muffled against eddie's flannel. "but i've been wanting to do that, this, for ages."
eddie snorts. "you've wanted to make me jizz in my pants for ages? really? low standards even for you."
steve snorts out a laugh in return. "no, you idiot. i've wanted to be able to do this for ages."
he tilts his head up and places a featherlight kiss to eddie's lips. it's soft, it's sweet, it's the opposite of everything that happened not two minutes prior. eddie feels a smile tugging at his mouth and pulls back to see steve smiling, too.
"does this mean..."
there's no words, no definition that eddie can put to the events of the night that don't sound silly or juvenile. but then he sees steve settle back down, pressing a kiss to right over his heart before laying his head down where it was.
"... that we're doing that again? absolutely. just maybe in a bed next time."
and maybe they don't need a label. maybe all they need is laying on a couch with come cooling in their pants and echoes of what just happened bouncing off the trailer walls. maybe all they need is a promise of later sealed with a kiss and their heartbeats in synch.
and maybe, just maybe, they'll play truth or dare again.
