#x self insert

Length: 2.4k

Pairing: Cult!Leader!Tamsy x Devouted!follower!reader

Content: Black!fem-bodied!reader, takes place in the early 60s, reader is clueless about sex smut; Consensual Non-consensual, oral (fem recieving), foreplay, fingering MDNI!, Porn with a plot, Jealous Tamsy

Summary: You and your parents joined The Thread of Life. What happens when your Divine Leader announces that you're under attack by the devil and he's the only one with the cure.

Authors note: Enjin isn't the only one that caught my eye. Tamsy is hot as fuck omg. Please let me know what you think 💙💙

Credit: Photo by @/pfpanimes

“Thank you, Mrs. Layne.” You smiled, handing the elderly lady the final bag of vegetables. 

“No, thank you. Your family grows the best vegetables in town.” She smiled, taking the bag. 

You counted the money before closing your little stall. Today was a good day, and the business is booming. You walked home unable to contain your smile, walking in your door, you saw your father sitting at the kitchen table with your mother. 

“Honey, please sit down.” Your mother smiled, gesturing at the empty chair between her and your dad. You walked over and sat down. 

“Have you heard the story of the new savior?” Your father smiled. 

“Yes?” You heard the rumors. It was believed that man, known as the Divine Leader, was an Angel able to communicate with the Gods. The news of that savior spread like wildfire in your town. 

“We want to save our family from eternal punishment and would like for you to read the Watchman and join us.” Your father’s hand gently patting the large black book on the table. 

You finished the book within days and became a follower like your parents. Your family sold the farm and used that money to join the Thread of Life. 

“Here are the outfits. Remember, the Divine Leader only wants us to wear white.” Semiu said, handing each of you a white outfit. You got changed into this white long dress, showing a bit of cleavage. 

Semiu opened the door, and there he was sitting beautifully on his high seat. You shyly walked behind your parents, looking down. Your parents fell on their knees, prostrating to him. You followed the same motion, closing your eyes. It was a weird, divine feeling, being in front of him. You felt so small compared to him.

“Welcome to the truth.” Tamsy smiled. His voice was smooth like honey.

“Thank you, it’s an honor to have been the chosen guided ones.” Your father spoke. 

Tamsy smiled but not to him, his eyes never left you since you walked in the door. He has never seen such a beautiful woman before. 

“Show your faces,” Tamsy said, wanting to have another look at you. 

All of you raised your heads, but your eyes remained on the ground. You were indeed a beauty, your signature braids were hanging loosely. His eyes darted down to your cleavage. 

"I want a kiss of devotion from  your daughter." He said, tapping his lips. 

You look at your dad, who gestures at you to do what you’re told. You rose up and nervously played with the hem of your dress as you walked up to him. Your breath caught in your throat, standing in front of him. He gave you a warm smile, and you felt all of a sudden safe in his presence. You leaned in and gently pecked him on the lips. They were soft, and you squealed internally. This was not how you imagined your first kiss, but it was an honor to be one of the few lucky ones to be blessed to kiss the Divine Leader. 

You returned to your parents' side and Tamsy was content. “You’ll find peace in the Thread of Life.” Tamsy finished, before letting you go.

It’s now been two months since your inauguration. Your family chose to work in the farming department because of your farming background. For two months, you’ve unknowingly been watched by Tamsy. He took a great liking to you.  You weren’t the most socially able person but you were popular, especially among the men. You didn’t entertain them too much, but the one who really irked Tamsy was Jabber. Everyone knew that Jabber took a great liking to you. He was part of the lumberjack department but would join the farmers to have every opportunity to talk to you. 

Tamsy’s knuckles turned white, watching you throw your head back laughing at something Jabber said. Jabber kissed your hand and waved you goodbye, leaving you to collect your apples. Tamsy didn’t know what possessed him when he walked out and charged towards you. 

You pulled down an apple and turned around to put it in your basket. You gasped, dropping the apple. “T-the Divine Leader.” You quickly bowed. Tamsy’s eyes softened. You were adorable. He squatted down and handed you the apple you dropped. 

“T-thank you.” You said, still looking down. 

“What are you doing with the apples?” Tamsy smiled, tilting his head. 

“It’s Rudo’s birthday, and I thought of making apple pies for the group.” You said.

“It’s going to be a lot of apples to pick. I’ll help you.” Tamsy began picking. 

“N-no, you shouldn’t bother with work like this.” You said. The Divine Leader didn’t do everyday work he’d normally bring messages and news from the Gods or solve legal problems between the group members. 

“Don’t be silly, I need to move my body as well,” Tamsy said. 

“Of course.” You said.

“Do you like baking?” Tamsy said, opening a conversation.

“I love it.” You smiled. Tamsy smiled, hearing you talk about yourself. 

Everyone in the group was shocked to see him smile and talk to you, it made him look more youthful.

“The Divine Leader is so humble.” Arkha smiled. Enjin nodded, before continuing to work.

“You want permission to ask her parents for her hand in marriage?” Tamsy leaned his chin on his knuckle.

“Yes,” Jabber said, prostrating. In the Thread of Life, a man had to get the blessing from the Divine Leader before asking the woman’s guardian. 

“I’ll  think about it.” Tamsy just said, dismissing Jabber. 

“Thank you,” Jabber said, not knowing his leader had other plans for you.

“Everyone! There is an emergency gathering held in The Divine Leader’s House!” Semiu announced on the speaker. 

Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed to his house. He was sitting on his usual seat, looking distraught. Everyone prostrated to him, concerned. 

“Thank you, everyone, for gathering on such short notice. It’s with a heavy heart that I’ll have to tell you that the Gods spoke to me and our pearl right here.” He gestured at you. All eyes were on you, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “She is under attack by the devil.

You felt your eyes sting and nausea began climbing up your stomach. Everyone was shocked and began whispering among themselves. 

“Noo!” Your mother cried into your father’s arms.

“Fear not! It’s not because she has sinned but because the devil likes targeting vulnerable women like her. But, I’ll  save her with the powers granted by the Gods.” Tamsy announced. Everyone broke into cheers, thanking him. 

You were standing outside his bedroom with Semiu. “He wants you to wear this, and he’ll join you for the cleansing soon.” Semiu handed you the bag.

“Do you know what’s inside?” You asked nervously. 

“No, but stay strong. Don’t let the devil deceive you and steal your spot in heaven with the rest of us.” Semiu hugged you. You nodded before bidding farewell. 

You walked into his bedroom, which was ten times the size of yours, and it had a hot bath not far from his huge King-size bed. There was a soft carpet next to his bed with two smaller pillows. You quickly changed into the dress, which was short and showed a lot of cleavage. Maybe the ritual required a lot of skin touching? You sat down on the carpet with each knee on the pillows, waiting.

The door slowly opened, and you jumped a bit in anticipation. Your eyes quickly darted down. Tamsy smiled, satisfied seeing you sit down pretty for him. He walked up behind you and began braiding your hair into a ponytail. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked soothingly. You nodded.

“Don’t be. I’ll take good care of you.” He smiled, finishing the braid. 

Tamsy walked to his bed and sat down at the edge. You heard patting, you carefully looked up, seeing him patting his left thigh. You rose up and talked over, pulling down the dress that barely covered your ass, carefully sitting down on his lap. 

“You know why I’m here with you?” He asked. 

“To get the devil out of me.” You said, looking down at your feet.

“It’s okay,” Tamsy said low. He slightly curled his pointy finger under your chin, guiding your eyes to look him in his eyes. Your face turned hot as you’ve never had a good look at his face. The members of the Thread of Life were strictly forbidden to look him in the eyes. 

“That’s correct. Do you know how devils target women?” He asked, having an arm around your waist to support you. 

“No.” You said, shaking your head. 

“They target women through the lips.” Tamsy traced a flat thumb down your lips. 

“Or.” He traced his fingers down to your waist, pulling up the dress. You felt it cramp slightly between your legs. “In your womb.” Tamsy pulled down your panties. 

“Do you know where he attacked me?” You looked at him with concerned eyes. 

“Yes, your womb. So I’ll have to do the cleansing down here.”  He gestured at your throbbing heat. 

"Spread your legs nice and wide for me."

He said low in a soothing voice. You did what your leader told you to do.  His slightly chill fingers slowly rubbed your wet slit up and down. You’re wet? He chuckled to himself. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Nothing, I’m just happy to be able to help you.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“Just try to relax while I’m working, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded. 

He pulled your wetness up and over your clit, gently rubbing circles. You moaned at the sweet sensation. 

"This." He pulled away a thin line of viscous fluid. "Means the cleansing works."

He pressed a kiss to your neck. He continued rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, making you gasp and squirm on his lap.

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes, it does." You rolled your head against his shoulder.

"That’s it, just relax. Let me make you feel good." 

Tamsy slid his other hand down between your legs. “I am going to try and pull him out with my fingers.” You watched as he slid double digits inside of you, pumping them in and out. Tamsy bit his lips, feeling your juices drip down his fingers. You became a squirming mess on his lap.

"That sharp but good feeling means that I am at the right spot." He kissed your shoulder. You nodded too far in pleasure land to answer.

You felt pressure building up in your pelvis, and Tamsy felt you tense on his lap. 

"That’s it, let go for me." Your stomach became tight, and you closed your legs on his hands when you reached your first orgasm. 

“Is it gone?” You asked. 

“Not really, he’s more stubborn than I thought.” He said. You pouted, disappointed. Tamsy gave you a small peck on the lips and smiled. 

“Take off your dress and get on the bed, we’ll try another method.” You nodded and slipped out of your skimpy dress and lay on the bed, spreading your legs. 

He grabbed your knees, pushing your legs further apart. Your knees flopped open, exposing you fully. Tamsy’s mouth watered at the view of your glistening, beautiful cunt. 

“I am going to use my mouth to suck him out, alright?”

“Yes.”

Tamsy didn’t waste any time. You gasped, your body jerking at the sudden sensation while you grabbed the bedsheets. Your juices coat around his mouth. He slid his tongue over your wet folds and pushed his tongue between them as he began licking you. He licked feverishly at your cunt before he wrapped his lips around clit, flicking his tongue vigorously all over it. 

“Oh my goodness, this feels amazing.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Tamsy moaned, satisfied against your pussy, sending vibrations all over your body. He took your hands and placed them on his light locs. A tightness quickly built in your belly, your back arched, and you pulled his hair when you entered your bliss. 

You lie on your back, catching your breath. “He still doesn’t wanna leave,” Tamsy said, taking off his robe. 

“What’s the next method?” You asked. 

“I’ll have to use my body. I will need you to use my body to fight the devil.” 

Tamsy removed the remainder of his clothes and exposed his nude body. He was scupled with broad shoulders. Your eyes darted down to his long, veiny length. It was pink at the tip, dripping with white substance. He lay down on his back next to you. 

“Come here,” he said, lightly tapping his lap. 

“I-I don’t know. I don’t want the devil to hurt you.” You chewed on your inner cheek. It would’ve killed you to know that he got hurt because of you. 

“He won’t, the Gods are protecting me. Using me to save you.” He said with a soothing voice. You smiled and nodded. 

“Okay, I want you to sit on my penis, alright. It’s long enough to reach him.” 

“Okay.” You rose up and straddled his lap. 

Tamsy held his length while guiding your hips, slowly lowering you down until your ass met his pelvis. You moaned at the sharp sensation while Tamsy looked at you with half-lidded eyes. Your walls were pulsing from your previous orgasms, and you felt good gripping him. 

“Now, I need you to use your knees and move up and down. Try and reach the devil.” He said. 

“Yes.” You said. 

You held onto his shoulders for support and rose up on your knees before sitting down again. You moved faster and slammed onto him, feeling this sharp pleasure spreading like wildfire all over your body. Your boobs were bouncing, and you felt your legs burn a bit, making them tremble slightly. 

“That’s it, baby. Fight the Devil away.” Tamsy hissed, being blissed out himself. You felt too good to be true. 

He arched his back slightly and smirked, seeing pleasure spread across your beautiful face. You coated him in your milky white liquid of need. You bounce in his lap, feeling the slap of his thighs against your ass with every movement. He was fitting you against your sweet spot with every bounce. 

“Fuck!” he says through gritted teeth, feeling himself getting close. You were too blissed out to notice that he swore. 

Your muscles began tightening under your belly button. Before an overwhelming sense of bliss, then calm. You buried your face in his chest, shaking from cumming multiple times. Once you both caught your breath, you rolled to the side, and his softening cock slipped out of you. You buried yourself against his chest as his strong arms wrapped around you like safety itself.

“We’ll have to have many more sessions to get rid of him,” Tamsy said, rubbing your sensitive clit. 

“Okay.” You nodded, your legs trembled as you came for the fourth time. 

Sitting on William’s lap doesn’t feel scandalous at first. It feels… intentional.

There’s a solidity to him that registers before anything else, the way his legs bracket you, long and steady, a quiet claim rather than a trap. You settle back and his hands arrive without hesitation, one at your waist, the other resting higher, just beneath your ribs, thumbs warm, absentmindedly anchoring you there as if he’s making sure you don’t drift away. He smells faintly of cologne and paper and something sharper beneath, and the heat of him seeps through your clothes until it feels like the chair has vanished entirely.

“You’re comfortable, darling?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

His voice comes from just behind your ear, cultured and low, spoken like a private aside during a performance meant only for the two of you. When you shift, even slightly, he reacts instantly, tightening his hold, guiding you back with practiced ease. There’s no rush, no hunger in the crude sense. It’s possession dressed as care.

His chin finds your shoulder. He’s too tall for this position, really, but he refuses to adjust, content to slouch if it means keeping you there. One knee bounces lazily, a tell you’ve learned means he’s amused. You can feel his breath change when you relax into him, the slow exhale that follows, heavier, satisfied.

“Good,” he murmurs. “Stay there, bunny.”

The pet name is deliberate.

He lets it linger, waits for the heat it brings to your face, and smiles faintly when he feels you still.

His fingers trace small, idle patterns at your waist, nothing improper, everything intimate. It’s grounding, enclosing, like being held at the center of something carefully controlled.

You’re aware of every point of contact, but what lingers most is the calm. The sense that, here, you are allowed to exist without performance. He’s still theatrical, still smug, but softened around the edges, curled around you like this is the only place he’s willing to let his guard down.

“My LoveBun...” he adds quietly, almost indulgent, lips brushing your hair.

And you know, with embarrassing certainty, that he chose that name purely to feel you melt against him.

Spoils you for an entire week if not the whole month your birthday falls on!

Takes you out to get your favorite dinner and desserts and fawns over you the entire time.

Helps you go through his huge wardrobe to find your perfect outfit for your special day! Do you want a suit? A dress? A combination of both? Do you like makeup? CAN HE HELP YOU WITH YOUR HAIR

Do you prefer cake or pie? Fudge? Or do you not really like sweets? He will get you the perfect birthday “cake” (I like pie and bread lol)

Is tempted to drag you out of bed early but also he wants you to sleep in because it’s your birthday. He’s at the foot of your bed like an antsy dog wanting to go for a walk.

He gets your favorite flowers, he gets you things you have been wanting for ages, he gets you things pertaining to any of your interests and hobbies, everything wrapped in wrapping paper of your favorite color with ribbons of your second favorite color

Hugging and kissing you off and on the entire day. Cuddling you at night. Holding you tight.

-> A late-night truth-or-dare turns dangerous when Lily’s cheeky question lures unexpected eavesdroppers—the Black brothers—outside her window, turning the game into a chaotic mix of teasing, scandal, and shivers.

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It was late. Too late. The kind of late when the Gryffindor Tower was mostly quiet except for the faint hiss of the fire and the low hum of your laughter with Lily and Mary.

You’d barricaded yourselves into a fortress of pillows, firewhisky passed between hands, every question more ridiculous than the last. Mary was sprawled upside-down on the bed, hair spilling onto the floor, while Lily sat primly with her legs crossed, though the sparkle in her green eyes betrayed her composure.

And you, blissfully unaware, had just been set up.

Lily tilted her head, feigning innocence in the most transparent way possible. “Alright then. One more question.”

Mary perked up immediately, already grinning.

Lily’s voice dropped, sweet and deliberate: “What’s one thing you’d want two of in your bed?”

Mary’s jaw fell open. “Evans!” she hissed, scandalized, but her grin was wicked.

You didn’t think. You didn’t plan. The words just slid out, casual and smooth as silk:

“The Black brothers.”

The dorm went silent for half a heartbeat before collapsing into chaos.

Mary screamed, actually screamed, then toppled off the bed in a heap of laughter. Lily slapped both hands over her face, muffled wheezing leaking through her fingers as her shoulders shook violently.

“You—you did not—” Mary gasped, tears already streaming down her cheeks. “Both of them? At once? You’re mental—completely mental—”

Lily peeked at you between her fingers, face crimson. “I— I can’t believe—oh Merlin’s sake—” She dissolved again, burying her face in a pillow.

You smirked, pretending nonchalance though your cheeks were hot. “Well, you asked for two. I’m just following instructions.”

That sent Mary into another fit, shrieking into the rug as she kicked her legs.

And then—

A noise. A low chuckle, dark and amused, drifting from the cracked-open window.

The three of you froze.Mary sat bolt upright. Lily stiffened, her eyes darting to the window. You followed their gaze—and felt your blood run cold.

Because right outside, half-shadowed by the moonlight, were figures crouched along the ledge. A pile of dungbombs and enchanted fireworks sat at their feet. Marauder mischief.

James and Peter looked caught between horror and glee, Remus had his palm over his face like he wanted to vanish—

But your eyes locked on the other two.

Sirius Black, leaning casually on the sill, his grin wolfish and sharp.

Regulus Black, half in shadow, his pale face unreadable, his grey eyes fixed directly on you.

They’d heard. Every. Word.

“Well, well,” Sirius drawled, voice low and dangerous, “you’ve got expensive taste, sweetheart.” His smirk widened, cruel and gleeful. “Two Blacks in one bed? You’d never walk again.”

Your breath stuttered. Sirius’s words hung heavy in the air—taunting, brutal, soaked in promise.

Mary made some kind of strangled laugh-squeak combo, rolling onto her stomach, face buried in the rug to muffle her wheezing. Lily was no better, half hidden under a pillow, her shoulders shaking as she tried to swallow hysterics. Their noise blurred at the edges, fading into the background, until it felt like the whole room had narrowed down to you and the window.

Sirius’s grin didn’t falter. He looked like a wolf baring its teeth, delighted at the scent of blood. “Merlin,” he chuckled, leaning an inch closer to the sill, “if I’d known you were that desperate for us, I’d have saved you the trouble of whispering it at midnight.”

Heat rushed to your face, hot and dizzying. “I— I wasn’t— it was a joke,” you tried, but your voice cracked and Sirius’s laugh cut through you like a whip.

Regulus still hadn’t looked away. His silence was worse than Sirius’s teasing, suffocating in its weight. Then, finally, he spoke—quiet, smooth, his words almost tender if not for the razor underneath.

“Two wolves don’t share a bed to keep you company,” he murmured. “They share it to devour you. You wouldn’t survive the night.”

Your heart slammed painfully hard against your ribs.

You should’ve laughed. Brushed it off. Closed the bloody window. But your throat was dry, your palms clammy, every nerve in your body alive under the press of their eyes.

Sirius smirked wider, clearly feeding on your silence. “Look at her, Reggie—already flustered.” His voice dropped, low and mocking. “Sweetheart, you’re blushing like you want us to prove it.”

Behind them, James groaned loudly. “For Merlin’s sake, Pads—Reggie—leave her alone, you’re terrifying her.” But his voice was distant, like it belonged to another world. Remus muttered something about bad timing, Peter snorted nervously.

None of it mattered.

Because Sirius was still watching you like a predator toying with its meal.

And Regulus, in his shadow, was watching like he’d already decided exactly how to end it.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster something clever, but your mouth was dry. “I— I didn’t mean it like—”“Didn’t you?” Regulus cut in smoothly, his tone sharp enough to flay. His grey eyes gleamed in the moonlight, unreadable but merciless.

At the end of the day, there’s William—stepping out of the bathroom or bedroom, dramatically draped in a lavender silk nightgown, the kind that shimmers under the light as he moves.

The collar and cuffs are lined with plush, fluffy trim (maybe even faux fur) in a soft cream or white, almost regal. It swishes around his ankles elegantly, and of course, he wears it like he’s a king retiring to his chambers.

He’s combed his hair back, too, though a few locks stubbornly fall into his face. Maybe even a little subtle cologne lingering on his skin. He walks in like:

"Darling, I’m ready to retire for the evening."

Meanwhile—you’re sitting on the couch or bed in:

a stretched-out T-shirt with a silly graphic

shorts that definitely have seen better days

maybe mismatched socks or none at all

hair a lil messy, no effort at all

And the contrast is hilarious. (He’d absolutely side-eye you playfully from across the room while you’re still standing there still in your comfy oversized T-shirt and shorts, meanwhile he’s fully draped in silk and luxury, sipping wine like a dramatic villain)

He pauses, looking at you, that little amused smirk tugging at his lips.

"Really, love? That’s what you’re wearin’ to bed next to me?” he teases, gesturing grandly to himself like “look at this masterpiece you’re getting to share a bed with.”

You just shrug, maybe throw a pillow at him or mumble something cheeky like:

"If you wanted me to dress fancy you should’ve given me a 24-hour notice."

But secretly, he loves the contrast. He loves that no matter how glamorous or dramatic he’s being, you’re still entirely yourself—relaxed, cozy, scruffy, comfortable in his presence. It grounds him in a way.

He tries to coax you into matching him. One night he holds up a spare silk robe or pajama set, wiggling it enticingly:

"C’mon, pet, humor me. Won’t you join me in luxury? Think of how dashing we’d look together.”

Alternatively… he ends up wrapping you inside his ridiculous nightgown like a giant lavender burrito when you crawl into bed, tucking you against him with a smug little hum.

"See? Softest sleepin’ you’ll ever have."

If he’s feeling extra dramatic and playful, you know he’s got the matching lavender silk slippers (maybe even with little embroidered gold accents or subtle tassels, because of course he’d go that extra step). He glides around the house like he’s floating, sipping tea or a nightcap, acting like royalty. Or the second choice is—BUNNY SLIPPERS.

Not just any bunny slippers, either. They’re white and fuzzy, with ridiculous floppy ears and tiny pink noses, and they squeak slightly when he walks. He wears them completely unbothered, as if they’re part of a royal ensemble. The contrast is insane—this tall, imposing man in an elegant lavender silk robe, collar fluffed up like a cape, and on his feet? Cartoonish little bunnies quietly boop boop boop across the floor.

When you give him that look, he raises a brow like:

"What? They keep my feet warm. You think I’m going to freeze for vanity?"

Then he sits back with his legs crossed regally on the couch—slippers and all. If you try to tease him about them, he’ll lift one foot in the air and wiggle it at you.

"Don’t mock the slippers. They have names."

What are the names? No one knows. He refuses to say.

(But you’re 99% sure he calls them Sir Hopsalot and Baron Fluffington when he thinks you're asleep.)

But on nights he’s more tired, relaxed, or wants to be closer to earth (emotionally, mentally), he’d absolutely go barefoot—quietly padding across the floor, silk gown trailing behind him, hair a little more rumpled, no theatrics, just soft William. He might even curl up beside you on the couch instead of his usual proud posture.

If he’s barefoot and you try to step on the back of his heel just to mess with him, he’d give you the most outraged gasp like you just insulted the monarchy.

"HOW dare you—my Achilles—" he dramatically collapses onto the bed.

And the whole time, he’s probably can't stop teasing:

"Really, darling? You’re going to let me look this magnificent while you… wear that?" (but his smirk shows he secretly finds it endearing)

Later? He’s tugging you into his lap, wrapping the soft silk fabric around you both like a blanket cocoon, pressing a kiss to your temple and murmuring:

"Doesn’t matter what you wear, you’re still mine."