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#was forced to go to a catholic school for like a year
eddiedefender · 1 day
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“eddie is a bad father"
Since 7x09 aired, I've been seeing a lot of people saying that Eddie is a bad father, and it's just so ????????????? Have you even watched the show???????
I'm not denying the mistakes Eddie has made regarding Chris, especially during the first years of his life, but making mistakes does not automatically make him a bad parent. The important thing is that after making those mistakes, he has done everything in his power to correct them. He has always tried to shield him of whatever disasters or tragedies life has thrown at Chris.
So for those people, now I'm going to do a rundown of Eddie's and Chris' relationship, but I'm also going to be focusing on Eddie as a person and not only as a father. i tried to keep it in a chronological order. (I'm so sorry for any inconsistencies :( )
El Paso, TX.
Shannon and Eddie begin
Eddie and Shannon were never a healthy relationship. They are high school sweethearts who had to get married due to her getting pregnant accidentally at 19. High school relationships, especially the first ones, are almost never meant to last. Eddie forced himself to get married to her bc he felt it was the “right” thing, due to his catholic upbringing and subsequent catholic guilt. He automatically assumed his role, not bc he wanted, but because he felt like he Had to. This caused his marriage to be extremely dysfunctional.
Catholic guilt and his identity Eddie's catholic guilt is likely closely related to his identity as the son of Mexican immigrants. Catholicism in Latin America was introduced in a very traumatic and forced way by Spanish colonizers. Thousands of Native Americans were killed for refusing to converse to Catholicism, therefore causing Catholicism to become really intense in Latin America, a way in which it remains until now. Entire Latino countries values and laws circle back to catholic traditions, there is virtually no way to escape religion. This is then mixed with the innate sexism that is common in those countries, leaving a pretty extreme view of gender roles. When a kid is raised in these environments or, in eddies case, by people raised in these countries, their life will always be dictated by Catholicism rules, especially when the family is especially (extra) religious, as is implied in Eddie's case. Coming back to how people's life is dictated by Catholicism… this is especially true regarding matters of sexuality and gender. As we all know, Latino Catholicism has strict views regarding gender roles. A man should be the “provider” and “strong” and the woman should “take care of the family” and be “gentle”. That is basically what Eddie is. He always paints himself as the strong one, bottling up his emotions; and also thinks of himself as only the provider for the family. This heavily affected his relationship with Shannon. When he got her pregnant, he automatically assumed that role by marrying her.
Newfound “family”
His marriage and new “family” life caused to be so overwhelming that the only out he saw, was enlisting and going to war, leaving his newborn son and wife alone. All of this was done under the pretence of being the “provider” for his family, because he thought that was what they required from him. He didn't comprehend that his wife and kid also needed him emotionally. Sadly, that was never going to happen due to the very circumstances in which the family was created. He never loved Shannon enough to make things work between them; but he still tried, for the sake of Chris' and to give him a chance to have a proper family.
Shannon leaving
after coming back from war, Eddie and Shannon tried to live the “family life” but that came to be impossible and overwhelming for both of them. This time it was Shannon that left. When she left, Eddie ended up alone with his son, fresh out of the army and with a family that wanted to take away his kid. He instantly knew that Christopher could not go through the trauma of losing another parent. That's why he decided to fight his toxic family for Chris' custody and took him away to L.A., so that they could live and navigate their new family dynamic far away.
Los Angeles, California
Eddie begins again
When Eddie moved out to L.A. he was still discovering how to raise a kid with a disability and also fighting his parents for Chris' custody. He did everything he could to ensure his kid was well taken care of, shielding him from his own struggles. When he got the job at the 118, he still did his best to keep him in a sort of normal environment. Due to Chris' disability, this came to be more of a challenge, but Eddie never stopped trying to get him the extra help he needed by every means.
When he joined the 118 he met buck who then introduced them to Carla, the social worker. Then, Carla and Eddie started to work together, so that they could improve Chris' quality of life, always looking out for his happiness.
L.A. life
Besides Carla, Eddie also found his support system on the 118. These people always helped him in everything he required and became his friends; especially Buck, as his best friend. Eddie found in Buck a person very similar to him, one that had Chris' best interests at heart and someone that would fight tooth and nail for him. Seeing the positive impact buck made, he decided to make him a constant presence in Chris's life. This made nothing but improve both Chris' and Eddie's family life.
Nevertheless, life in L.A. was not so happy for Eddie. Although he had found a support system and strong friendships, he was still processing Shannon's absence. He always blamed her for leaving him and her son. However, he never made these concerns known to his son, as he didn't want Chris' to grow to hate his mother. The only people who knew about this were the 118, although he was always reluctant to be open about any feelings he experienced.
Shannon
All this came to a halt when Shannon came back to their already settled lives. At the beginning, Eddie tried to navigate his issues with Shannon, without letting Chris know that she had come back. He was afraid that Shannon would leave and therefore scar Chris again. He wanted to shield him from that pain.
After a while, Eddie decided that it was OK for Shannon to come back to Chris' life and for them to try to be a family again. During this time, Eddie and Shannon were still figuring out what they were and how they wanted their future to look like, while also living the family life for Chris' sake.
After navigating their family life and personal conflicts for a while, Shannon asked Eddie for a divorce. She died days after. This was a very big hit for both Eddie and Chris. They both navigated their grief together. It was not a perfect journey, but Eddie never stopped having Chris' best interests at heart.
(natural) Disasters
Soon after Shannon died, another tragedy hit Chris' life: the tsunami. Both tragedies resulted in Chris having recurring nightmares, sometimes blending the lines between his mother's death and the tsunami. Eddie was constantly worried about the state of his son, even though the latter was not opening up to him. He took him to the psychologist to see what he could do to make him feel better and process his emotions.
Mothers or girlfriends?
After Shannon's death, Eddie, maybe involuntarily, leaned back into the “provider” role, and he looked for someone to fill the “mother” role for Chris. His next relationships were solely based on how much Christopher liked his girlfriends. He was focused, perhaps too much, on what he thought was best for Chris. He never noticed that Chris' didn't need another maternal figure, he already had everything he needed in Buck, Carla, and the rest of the 118.
The only relationship he had, prior to L.A. was the one with Shannon. The outcome of that relationship left him severely traumatized and unable to form emotional bonds with women. And anxiety when thinking of a future or marriage with them. He only valued his girlfriends regarding on how much Chris' liked them, removing himself completely from his own relationship.
Grief
since Shannon died, Eddie has never got the chance, or given himself the chance, to grieve her properly. He has constantly bottled up his emotions, until he couldn't anymore, resulting in extreme reactions. Or, on the other hand, completely gaslighting himself into believing something that wasn't true.
First, soon after she died, while dealing with the aftermath of the tsunami and its impact on Chris' he stated to develop feelings of anger towards her. To try and “process” his rage, he turned to illegal fight clubs, only stopping when he almost killed a man. Eddie then confessed to bobby he did that so that he could keep his anger under control as to not let Chris down, seeing he was the only parent Chris had left.
Second, during the subsequent seasons, Eddie started to completely morph the mental image he had of Shannon and their relationship. Shannon suddenly became the epitome of motherhood and the perfect wife. He completely stripped her out of her humanity, putting her on a pedestal or an example he should seek to obtain. All of a sudden, they never had any marriage problems, and he even forgot that she asked him for a divorce. Their marriage was only perfect since the day she died.
His delusions have reached their breaking point in s7. He quickly fell down into a hole after seeing a girl similar to his wife. He started pursuing her, even though he already has a girlfriend. Also, leading this woman into a situationship without her knowing about the wife.
It was only after buck said something, that he realized that he wasn't even sure of what he wanted from Kim. He soon after came clean to her, and tried to stop their relationship. (then she matched his 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 and actually got bangs and got into a weird role-play as shannon, to “try” to get Eddie to get over her, is suppose.... I don't even know what she was trying to do there😭😭😭😭). That is when Chris caught them. Eddie never intended for his son to see him in this broken state, and he had actually done a great job at hiding it until now.
This mistake does not erase how much Chris means to Eddie and all the things he has done to maintain Chris' wellbeing.
This is simply an example of a very broken man.
i wanted to clarify that when i refer to "catholicism" in the text im not talking about what the scriptures (Bible) say, i talk about how people interpret them in latam context. also im probably forgetting some things but I think this gets my point across.
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seasicksilver · 1 year
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it’s my birthday, so here’s a trigun oc
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porcelainseashore · 3 months
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Heavenly Creatures
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Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader
Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.
Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂
Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.
AO3 Link
Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.
Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.
Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.
Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.
One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”
Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.
“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.
Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.
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Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.
The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair. 
You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.
He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot. 
You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”
He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”
“I know.” You grinned.
“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.
You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”
He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.
You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.
“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”
“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.
“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.
“I think you’re nice too.”
And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents. 
You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.
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A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore. 
People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.
Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you. 
“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.
Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.
Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked. 
Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.
Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.
You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.
As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.
When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.
You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.
All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.
You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.
It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow. 
It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.
This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.
At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.
When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.
“What are you playing at?”
“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”
There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”
You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”
There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”
“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.
“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”
“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively. 
His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.
He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”
“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”
Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.
“Um-”
Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.
However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.
“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted. 
If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour. 
Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.
“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.
“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”
“Catholic guilt?” You teased.
“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.
“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.
He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”
“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.
Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.
Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”
“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.
He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.
He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.
With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”
Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”
“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.
“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”
Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.
Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.
Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.
Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.
Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”
Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.
Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips. 
“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.
You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.
“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.
“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.
And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”
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Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.
You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?
Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.
Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.
Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”
You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”
There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.
Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”
“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.
He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.
She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.
When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.
Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.
At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”
Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds. 
As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.
There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.
“Huh?”
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.
“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”
You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.
“Feeling good?”
“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”
He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”
You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”
He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.
“What was that again?” He taunted.
You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.
“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.
At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”
With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.
You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.
His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.
It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you. 
Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.
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daughter-of-sapph0 · 3 months
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I said it before in a previous rant, but I feel like this story needs repeating for no particular reason whatsoever.
my middle school was very small. there was only one class of 18 kids in the entire 6th grade. we had to deal with each other every single day. I only started this school in 6th grade, but some of these kids have known each other since pre-k. so when I joined, I was a stranger, an outcast, someone different. and having undiagnosed autism did not help at all.
one of my classmates was named Jacob. he was the only kid shorter than me. but he was an aggressive bully. every day, he'd grab me, slap me, pull my hair. he'd torment me physically, call me names, the whole shebang. typical bully stuff. there was never a reason for this, other than I was a new kid. I was a faggot. I was a downey. I was a retard. I was a sissy. I was a pussy. I was "the other". I think Jacob somehow knew I was trans and queer about five years before I did, and treated me as you'd expect.
every single day, I'd complain to my teachers and the principal. "Jacob is bullying me. he's hitting me, calling me names, harassing me, even after I tell him to leave me alone". and the responses I got did not help.
"just leave. walk away" gee, thanks. I'd love to. unfortunately I'm stuck in a classroom with him all day. unless you're gonna let me go home early, your advice is worthless.
"stop being a tattletale" and just let him continue to bully me? wow, thanks for being a supportive adult figure in my life...
and I'll never forget what my hardcore conservative catholic principal said to me. "if you don't want him to call you a faggot, then stop being a faggot".
in all of these situations of begging for help, not once did Jacob ever face consequences for his actions. even when I showed them the bruises and horrible notes he gave me. even when the harassment happened right in front of the teachers. the most he would ever receive is "hey, both of you, stop fighting!" even though it was always one sided and I never fought back.
until one day on the bus. he was in the seat behind me, poking my head, slapping me, trying to get my attention. I was already pissed that day, and Jacob was only making things worse. I told him to stop. repeatedly. to just leave me alone. but he didn't.
without thinking about it, I tried to swat away his hands. but I ended up brushing my hand against his face. he interpreted this as a slap. he immediately got off the bus at his stop and ran home crying.
that afternoon, my mom got a phone call saying that I was at risk of being expelled. apparently, Jacob had told his parents that I had beat him up, and his parents called the school.
in the end, because of my accidental unintentional "slap" that I had only done because I was angry and wanted to be left alone and stop being bullied, I was suspended for a week, forced to write a handwritten apology note to Jacob, and fell behind in my classes.
Jacob was never punished. he never faced consequences for his actions. he was always seen as the victim by adults. I was the aggressor since I was mad and complained about being bullied.
soon after this, I attempted suicide. I backed out, thankfully. but I can't stop thinking about how my life almost ended because no one cared about the harassment I faced.
being harassed, and having no one do anything about it, which causes you to get angry until you act a tiny bit irrational and upset, and suddenly you're punished much harder than your attackers ever were and ever will be.
I'm saying this for no reason at all. it totally doesn't apply to any real life situations happening right now on tumblr.
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rant incoming everyone ignore me ✌
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By Kitty Werthmann
“I am a witness to history.
“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.
If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.
“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.
She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.
“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”
No so.
Hitler is welcomed to Austria
“In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.
Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.
“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’
“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.
“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.
“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.
“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.
“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.
“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been re- quired to give up for marriage.
“Then we lost religious education for kids
“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.
“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”
And then things got worse.
“The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.
“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.
“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.
“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.
“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.
“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.
“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.
“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.
“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.
“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.
“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.
“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.
“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.
“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.
“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.
“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.
“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..
“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.
“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.
“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.
“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.
“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.
“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.
“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.
“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.
“We had consumer protection, too
“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.
“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.
“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.
“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.
“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.
“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.
“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.
“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.
“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.
“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”
“This is my eyewitness account.
“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.
“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.
“After America, there is no place to go.”
Kitty Werthmann
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ghostlywhiskey · 8 months
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Simon Riley (Priest AU) - Forgive me, Father.
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,203
Warnings: MDNI 18+ ☆ Sacrilege, priest, mentions of prayer and common language used in confessionals - overall religious content that may upset some. Abuse of power. Mentions of being used and somnophilia. Cussing. Masturbation (Simon & reader).
Summary: After having improper thoughts weighing guilt on your mind, you decide to resort to confession. Simon has methods of how you can be forgiven.
Notes: Um, well, yeah. I’m not sure what to say. Writing this whole thing was a 'damn, Catholicism ingrained in me fr' moment from how I literally closed my eyes to remember how I would walk into church & what would be said in confession. Ha. Anyway. Minimal proofreading, I felt too dirty to re-read.
find my masterlist here
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You weren't a frequent churchgoer. After years of Catholic school, it all became tiring and felt almost forced at this rate, but you went for the holidays like Easter & Christmas - at your grandparents request to be fair.
But, old habits die hard and one day you find yourself pulling into the parking lot of the church. Maybe it was the Catholic guilt ingrained in you that drew you to go today. 
The large wood doors creaked as you opened them and walked into the church. Every Catholic church looked the same to you - the stained glass, the architecture, the same old wooden pews either their original wood or coated in layers of white paint refreshed over the years. And every church you had ever been to was always so cold - why?
Every single move was like muscle memory. Your fingers dipped into the font that contained the holy water, quietly whispering as you did the sign of the cross and genuflected. 
Your eyes scanned the church, noting the layout as you located the confessional. Once you entered and sat down, you rang the tiny bell to indicate your presence. Heavy footsteps outside getting closer as you heard the priest enter the other side of the confessional, the divider sliding open so you can only make out the figure through the tiny holes.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." The words are spoken in unison. His voice is clearer to you now as he only speaks now, "May God who has enlightened every heart, help you to know your sins and trust in His mercy." In response, you quietly whisper 'amen' in return.
Clearing your throat and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you prepare to speak. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was 5 years ago. These are my sins.." The list of sins are far more minimal in nature such as disrespecting your parents, gossiping, lying and so forth.
Then, you finally get to what has been weighing on your mind like a ton of bricks. "And impure thoughts.." Your words trailing off, the sound of the priest shifting on the other side noticeable from the close proximity despite the divider separating you both. "In order to truly know the severity, what do these impure thoughts include, my child?" He asks, your body tensing as the question catches you off guard. "Ah, regarding premarital sex acts, Father."  You respond, fingers fidgeting with the rings on your hands. "Explain." This is all he says before the silence lingers in the small space before you speak again. "This is only to help your absolution." His voice urges you to continue, the words trying to ease you to come clean. “Well," Swallowing the lump in your throat, your cheeks burning from embarrassment despite your identity being unknown to him. "The thoughts consist of being used at will by a man. To be degraded and fucked until I'm begging for him to stop, but my whines only encourage him to continue. I don't want him to stop.” Your voice is strained, as if you're scared to admit it out loud. And truthfully, this was the first time you had admitted the thoughts out loud.  Your thighs squeeze together as your brain digs deeper into the thoughts you’ve been suppressing for a few months now. 
The sound of the priest clearing his throat pulls your attention back. “Surely that isn’t all, my child.” He says, and you shake your head in response even if he can’t see. “N-No. That isn’t all.” Rings spinning around your fingers as you continue to fidget from nerves. “Please remember, I need to know everything to offer you absolution.” Nodding, you swish spit in your mouth to coat the dryness to some extent and swallow. 
“I-I think about being woken up in the night, the man already buried deep in me. My body  doesn’t resist the feeling and clenching around him as my consciousness regains from sleep.” The heat between your thighs grows as you now shift in the seat, one leg moves to cross over the other in an effort to control the sensation.
The sound of a zipper coming undone is undeniable as your ears pick up on it, your lips parting slightly from shock as you process what’s happening on the other side of the confessional. “Father?” Your voice barely whispers, wondering if you acknowledge it, then he would stop. “Are these thoughts about anyone specific?” He mutters, his hand palming himself through his boxers. “No, just general desires, Father.” 
He inhales a breath and exhales before he speaks. “Have you acted on these thoughts?” No, but you fucking wish. “No, Father.” And maybe it was your own thoughts warping, but you could have sworn you heard him mumble the words, ‘Forgive me, Father’. 
On the other side of the confessional, unbeknown to you, the priest had now pulled his cock free from the constraints of his briefs. Biting back a groan, his hand comes up to his mouth as he quietly spits into his palm before he wraps it around himself. “For your penance, you must do exactly as I say, understood?” He speaks, his voice sounds low, demanding in a way. 
“Understood, Father.” You reply, your chest rising and falling slowly as you anticipate what he is going to say next. “We must rid you of these thoughts. You need to release them.” He murmurs, his hand slowly pumping up and then down. “Be a good girl and spread your legs.” 
Oh my God. Like actually, oh my God. Your brain rings in your head, doing as you're told and spreading your legs. Hearing the movement, he continues to speak. “My child, what are you wearing?” The question is simple, your hand already sliding down to the exposed panties your dress reveals once your legs are spread. “Knee length sundress.” You respond, your head leaning back against the wood of the confessional as your fingers rub the fabric covering your already wet cunt. “Hmm, and I suppose that length is useless as your legs are spread. Exposing yourself like a good girl, but such a slut.” The word slut drips from his mouth like venom, the tone of his voice sending excitement through your body. “Slide the panties off.” He orders, and you obey as you reach for the waistband and slide them down to your ankles, shaking them off to the floor of the confessional. “They’re off, Father.” You whisper, glancing at the divider. Never in your life did you want to be seen more than in this moment. “Father Simon.” He corrects. “Call me Father Simon.” 
“Father Simon.” You repeat the name he asked you to call him. A quiet groan travels to your side of the confessional and you can’t help but move your fingers to rub between your folds. The fact he was groaning to you just saying his title was causing your stomach to tie into knots. “What do I need to do, Father Simon?” You beg, wanting him to continue directing you. “Such an eager girl to be forgiven. You wouldn’t need forgiveness if you weren’t such a slut.” He hissed. “But you come into this confessional and speak of how you wish to be used. To be degraded. Do you think you can be forgiven?” 
“I-I want to be forgiven.” Your fingers build up your excitement, teasing your folds as your fingers move to give your clit some attention as you rub it gently. “I’m sorry, Father Simon. I’m sorry.” You choke out, almost forgetting to breathe amidst the pleasure. “Just because you’re sorry does not guarantee forgiveness.” Simon’s own hand continues to pump his cock, his thumb brushes over the head as some pre-cum oozes out. “You sound stupid saying sorry. Saying sorry while I can hear your hand moving as you touch yourself. Take those fingers and fuck yourself with three of them.” The order coming out of his mouth leaves you breathing shakily.
“F-Father, three?” You ask in order to clarify his demand. “R-Right away?” You needed time to adjust, even with your own slender fingers it took time before you could even have two. “You heard me.” He responds, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Don’t disappoint me, sweetheart.” Simon’s hand starts to pump his cock faster, his free hand moves to massage his balls. 
While you’re already wet, just to be sure you take your index, middle and ring finger to your lips. Your mouth wrapping around the fingers, sucking and swirling your tongue to coat them in saliva. Pulling them away, you carefully position them, teasing your entrance before you push into yourself. Your free hand covers your mouth as you feel them stretching you slightly. A moan muffled by your hand is the additional sound mixed with your fingers starting to pump in and out of you, the wet stickiness filling the confessional. “Oh, sweetheart. You must look so beautiful spread out fucking yourself with your fingers.” Simon coos through the divider, his breaths shallow. “I wish I could bury my cock into that wet, tight cunt. Let me hear you pray to God for that.” 
Closing your eyes as he speaks, you imagine the priest grabbing your hips and forcing himself into you, despite having no idea of his appearance. Your head against the wood of the confessional again as you try to hold your moans in even with your hand over your mouth, scared if anyone else were to enter the church they would hear you both behind these curtains. “I don’t hear you.” Simon growls, glancing at the divider to barely see the movements of your hand as your body moves in response. “G-God, please. I want Father Simon’s cock.” He hears you whimper quietly, a grin forming on his face. “Oh..such a good, good girl.” Simon’s voice acknowledging your compliance. Your fingers curl inside as he praises you, allowing yourself the small reward. “Father Simon, I-I’m so wet.” 
“Mmph..those pretty little fingers must be slick with your juices.” Simon’s own head leaning against the wood of the confessional now, eyes closed as he pumps his cock faster and pushes down hard. The image of his cock disappearing in between your folds making his thoughts spin. “Keep pumping those fingers. We need to make you cum. Release the thoughts that are rotting your brain.” Simon’s teeth grit together, a soft hissing sound coming out as his pump down puts pressure on him.
Not trusting yourself, your hand is back on your mouth. The sound of your wet cunt getting pumped with your fingers fills both your ears and Simon’s, the squishing sounds push him closer to his own release. And for you, the thought of his cock instead of your fingers pulling you closer to the edge before you jump off and release. Whimpering into your palm, you clench around your fingers and pump a few more times before releasing around them. Your thighs immediately squeezing shut as you try to control your shaking. “S-Simon.” You cry softly, lips parted as you pant softly. “F-Fuck.” He groans, the hand not pumping his now cum covered cock fists and hits the confessional wall. The release that had been building up in him for months now. 
“In addition, you leave your panties behind. Along with that, I expect you to recite twenty Hail Mary’s and twenty Our Father’s after your release. Make an act of contrition.” His voice strained from his recent climax. Dazed from your own climax as well, the words come out of your mouth without hesitation, “My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good…” Pausing for a brief moment, you swallow a lump in your throat. “I have sinned against You, whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with Your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, suffered and died for us. In His Name, my God, have mercy. Amen.” After the words leave your lips, you catch your breath again.
The sound of Simon readjusting and zipping himself up is the only sound you hear in response. “F-Father?” You say softly, awaiting for him to absolve you. “My child…” Simon’s voice sounds like it did when you first sat in the confessional. “God cannot give you pardon and peace as of today. Therefore, I cannot absolve you of your sins. Come back in five days after I’ve had some time to rest and ask God for a final answer.” 
And with that, the sound of footsteps fill the church once more, followed by the door to the sacristy opening and closing indicating he would not be seen by you when you left. The response leaves you stunned for a few moments, before your legs get the strength to stand up and exit the confessional. The hand you didn’t use to finger yourself gently dips into the font as you leave, the sign of the cross spoken softly as you walk out.
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hotchfiles · 3 months
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↪ day four. sympathy for the devil — #marchhotchness — NSFW ; MDNI!
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [last true mouthpiece] ❞
pairing: virgin!aaron hotchner x virgin!reader. summary:  "i would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again." content warnings: major catholic church disrespect going on. some making out. m! receiving oral. MDNI! word count: 1.3k
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      God was supposedly pure, free of all sin, free of everything evil that scattered the earth. Free of carnal desires. Free of hypocrisy. 
      Church was supposed to be the place to be blessed with His kindness, His love, His overpowering goodness. For Aaron it was just another place to be a Hotchner.
      Not Aaron, not Hotch, a Hotchner.
      It was a place to be proper, to look attentive, to have his fingers pass through the beads of his rosary as if it really meant something to him or to most of the people sitting there. 
      It’s his first summer back home after he was unwillingly sent to boarding school.
      If there’s a place he wish he wasn’t forced to be, it would be the place where everyone swore to be good, as good as God, but weren’t.
      There’s at least three woman exchanging glances with his father, his baby brother is sleeping peacefully on his baby carrier, thanks to the nanny as their mother didn’t look at him for one second since they entered church, her eyes going from her friends to the priest only, making notes of what the ladies were wearing, how their kids were behaving. Nothing good came out of his family. 
      Not even him, he had his knuckles hidden under white bandage, band-aid on his chin. The signs of his rebellion clear, still his mother would tell the neighbors how sports were tricky for clumsy Aaron. 
      The only thing close to the pureness and kindness of a God inside that luxurious place was you.
      The warm smile you gave him, the way your fingers brushed his skin to ask what happened to him. The way your voice said his name sounded like an angel. It made him believe in angels. 
      But the way you made him feel at times was pure sin. If you were an angel, you were a fallen one, beautiful, good, kind… sinful. Aligned with the devil and its desires.
      But if it meant being able to be closer to you, Aaron would knee down and pray to God, or to Satan, or to any deity that could make it happen. He would believe anything your lips told him to. 
      He would sin in your behalf as you were the only true God he could believe, that’s why when you left your seat during Sunday mass to get water, he followed you, captured by the way your hips moved, it had been six months since the last time you two spoke, the flirtatious looks and words leading to nothing of substance. 
      “Boarding school not treating you well?” You ask him teasingly, but he can see the worry in your eyes as you touch his chin. He winces at the touch, but holds your wrist before you can move. 
      “Their therapist say I need to learn how to manage my rage.” You chuckle, you’ve never seen him angry, not at you or with you, he was always the softest, most polite boy, the most beautiful soul you’ve ever met. He was bigger than church, his presence made you feel surrounded by good. It’s a shame he doesn’t feel that way about himself. 
      You look around, knowing the cues by heart, most people have their eyes closed to pray, and you pull him by his hand quickly, knowing where the altar boys would change, he knew it as well, having been one for years as a child. You locked the two of you inside, breath heavy as you did so. 
      At this point the only thing that has ever happened between you two was lingering hugs, suggestive conversations and a quick kiss during spin the bottle. You wanted more of him, you wanted to make him feel good. 
      Brushing your lips against his chin, you pinned him to the nearest wall, taking his hurt hand and placing soft kisses against the bandage as well, the way he left soft sighs at your touch made you feel invincible, still, you stop yourself for a minute, looking at him for approval, Aaron slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you closer for a kiss years in the making, as hungry and needy as you. 
      You’re both desperate to feel each other, to feel something real when you’ve been raised in a community where nothing was, his lips are chapped against your strawberry tasting soft ones, his hands are rough and on your waist under your shirt and he smiles at the thought of you having to fight off not wearing a dress to mass. 
      Aaron’s cheeks flush at how aroused he’s feeling, ashamed to be feeling like that in a place of adoration of everything non carnal, he feels sinful, but the way your body is glued to his, hardening his cock even more, makes him forget about it as he moans into your mouth.
      His belt is unbuckled with ease by your hands, but he stops you before you can do anything else. 
      “Wh–What are you doing?” Making out, having someone straddle him, feeling the friction over his clothed crotch–that's the most he had done with someone until now, and there you were with your godly eyes, your red bitten lips and your hands about to make him sin even more. 
      “I–I want to make you feel good.” You don’t have much experience either, but still before he can protest to anything you shove your hand into his pants and boxers, feeling him fill your hand and twitch at your touch. 
      He nods in a frenzy, helping you by pulling his bottom clothes down to his thighs as you lower yourself, taking him in your mouth delicately at first, feeling the different taste in your tongue as you bobbed your head slowly, your hand holding his cock at the base. 
      Touching your cheek with one of his hands to catch your attention, he gets you to glue your eyes to his instantly, your mouth still at work as you did so, his other hand guides yours, telling you to move it along with your mouth, showing you what felt good to him. 
      Aaron can faintly hear the priest citing scripture, telling children to respect their parents in the Lord, and he almost feels bad for what he’s letting you do to him, but your mouth may be the closest he has felt to the divine and if God has a problem with that than maybe he wasn’t worth praying to. 
      The confidence he gets from the lust in your eyes leads his hand to your hair, pushing you and softly, to the best of his ability, holding you down, it’s clear he doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel his orgasm building up, he knows it well from the nights jerking off in his bedroom to the image of you, before he can warn you between the moaning mess he is trying to bite inside his lips, you feel his cock twitching inside your mouth, the warmth of his cum filling your mouth. 
      You swallow it down in a reflex, the hollowing motion of your cheeks making him whine. You only let him go when he pulls you up by your hair, and it’s your turn to moan. 
      His lips and yours feel like two magnets, glued together as soon as you balance yourself, sharing with him his own taste, his tongue meddling with yours made you tingle. 
      “I just got us both a free ride to hell, right?” You laugh into his lips and he nods, dropping your arms only to pull his pants up. 
      “I think I would battle all nine circles of hell to feel like that again.” His citation of Dante’s Inferno feels silly along with his teenage hormones filled attempt to flirt, you don’t mind it, his brain was the second most attractive thing about him after all, losing only to the eyes that didn’t leave you as you both got out, again taking advantage of a prayer to get back to your seats. 
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 7 months
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Living Dead Girl
(Steve Harrington x Early 00s Goth!FemReader)
Spooky collab with my baby @reidsbtch here is her part Dripping With Sin🎃🖤🦇
Summary: You just moved back to Hawkins and your bestfriend is having a Halloween party, you’re excited to meet all of her friends, but especially excited to meet one in particular. Wk: 5K (divider used is by @firefly-graphics)
Warnings: Reader is dressed as a catholic school girl, Spanking(with a belt), choking (he also chokes her with her rosary at one point oops.) unprotected sex, outside sex (but it’s secluded), use of “sir”, mentions of alcohol, Oral (m receiving), also just some cutie cheesy fluff. 18+MINDI!!
You smiled at yourself in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your costume. You spent hours altering your old school uniform and it turned out perfect. The skirt that used to go almost to your knees now barely covered your ass, the white button up top that used to fit a bit loose was now snug against you and tied in the middle to reveal your midriff and the top of your red push-up bra.
You finished off the look with some black thigh highs, the old rosary you had tucked away with your uniform stacked with your signature choker and platform boots.
You were both nervous and excited for tonight. You had just moved back to Hawkins a few weeks ago to be closer to your lifelong bestfriend, Iris. Even though your parents forced you to move states and go to an all girls catholic school when you were 13 your friendship never wavered. You spent hours chatting on the phone, sending each other countless IMs through AOL, and even going as far as to write each other letters if one of you was grounded.
It’s something you had been considering for a while, holding out hope that your college life would get better over time but friends came and went and so did guys. The only constant in your life being Iris from thousands of miles away. She had been suggesting it for about a year now, telling you how amazing her boyfriend and all her friends were and how much they’d love you. So after you had a falling out with the closest friend you had back home you finally decided to pull the trigger.
You’ve been back a few weeks now and while you’ve of course seen Iris several times you hadn’t had time to meet her friends or even her boyfriend Eddie yet. She’s told you a lot about all them but the one that you’ve been most excited to meet was Steve. She’s been talking him up to you since before you even moved, and you were hoping he would be just as good as she made him sound.
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When you arrived at Iris’ house the party was already in full swing, you weaved through the crowd in search of your bestfriend. Your eyes finally land on her in the kitchen, filling orange and black plastic cups with the punch you were sure had a generous amount of alcohol in it.
“Pookie!!”
Her head shot up at the sound of your voice and a huge smile spread across her lips.
“Pumpkin! Oh my god! You look so sexy!”
You prance over to her and wrap your arms around her like you hadn’t seen her in ages even though you saw her yesterday.
“Me? Look at you, you look good enough to eat! The uniform turned out perfect!”
You watch her eyes wander towards the door and then light up in a way you’ve only ever seen when she sees NYSNC on MTV. You follow her gaze to the person she’s looking at that you could only assume is Eddie.
“Eddie, baby! This is Quinn.” She gestures towards you like you’re a prize on the price is right and it makes you giggle.
“Hi Eddie, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Our girl here has told me so much about you, I feel like I already know your whole life story.”
“Oh my god, shut up.” She playfully slaps your arm and laughs.
“But I thought you were my girl sweetheart?”
Eddie wraps himself around your bestfriend with a pout on his face and a knowing smirk spreads across yours. Iris told you how clingy he is and you have to stop yourself from laughing as you watch it happen in real time.
“Yeah but technically she was my girl first.”
The pout on his face deepens and his arms around her tighten a little and it makes you laugh.
“Aww don’t be so dramatic, she’s totally obsessed with you.” You tease.
“Me? She’s obsessed with you. She never shuts up about you either!”
“Well I guess that just makes us the two coolest people alive then.”
“Hey Harrington! Come over here, I want you to meet someone!” You abruptly halt your banter with Eddie at the sound of his name.
You look behind you and you swear you believe in love at first sight for a second, because holy shit this man is beautiful. His chestnut hair is shiny and slicked back, a leather jacket adorning his broad shoulders, the white tee he’s wearing underneath is tight against his abdomen and those jeans hugged him in all the right ways. When he approaches he leans on the counter next to where you’re standing, up close you can see that he has a toothpick hanging from his lips, his lips that looked extremely fucking kissable. His face looked like it was made with Greek gods in mind, his brown eyes flecked with green and his nose and jaw prominent, and also perfect for kissing. Damn, he hasn’t even said a word to you yet and you’re already thinking about leaving lipstick marks all over him.
“Steve, this is my bestfriend.” She tells Steve your name before winking at you and letting Eddie drag her off into the crowd.
“Hi, I’m Steve.” He smiles at you sweetly and you can’t help but notice that he seems a bit nervous, which makes you want to laugh because he’s standing in front of you looking like that.
“Hi Steve, it's nice to meet you. Iris has told me a lot about not just Eddie, but you too. She’s been really wanting us to meet.” You giggle and turn towards him, resting your hip on the counter so you can look at him better.
“Yeah? She’s uh - she’s told me a lot about you too. She told me you were pretty but wow.” It would’ve sounded like a douchey pick up line if his face wasn’t red as a tomato, his eyes wide and roaming, but bashful.
“Me wow? Look at you.” Your eyes look him up and down while you bite your lip. “I like your costume, a greaser, right?”
“Yeah, it was kind of a last minute decision because I waited too long and this was easy to throw together. I borrowed one of Eddie’s jackets. But I think it turned out okay.” He put his hands in the pockets of the leather jacket before spinning in a circle to give you the full effect.
“I think it turned out great, I like your hair.” You really wanted to tell him that you wanted to take a bite out of his ass but that seemed a bit forward, for now.
“Thanks honey, I like your costume too. Naughty school girl?.” His eyes roamed your whole body now and you didn’t miss the way they lingered on your cleavage and thighs just a little longer than the rest of you.
“Yeah? It’s my old school uniform that I altered. But I think it turned out okay.” You smirk at him before throwing his actions back at him and giving him a spin, your skirt going up just long enough for him to get a view of your ass.
“Your old school uniform? Fuck…Yeah, I like it. I like your shoes. And your necklace.” But what he really wanted to say was that he wanted to worship every inch of your body and kiss you until he couldn’t breathe anymore but that seemed a bit forward, for now.
You look down at your combat boot clad feet and giggle, your hand subconsciously reaching up to touch the studded choker that adorned your neck.
“Pumpkin!!! It’s our song!!” You hear Iris a second before the fact that Living Dead Girl had just started playing through the speakers.
“Sorry, I’ll be back! Duty calls!” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a dark red lipstick stain before skipping off to the middle of the living room.
You felt eyes on you as you and Iris’ bodies moved closely together to the beat. You had glanced over your shoulder once to see a very pouty yet adorable Eddie staring directly at your bestfriend but you couldn’t stop looking at Steve. His eyes were locked in on you as your hips swayed and your short skirt lifted with each movement. You look him directly in the eyes and smirk as you back against Iris, grinding your ass against her. Your staring game abruptly ends when Eddie walks over demanding your bestfriend’s attention. You wave her off with a knowing smile before finding your way back to Steve.
“Eddie is such a baby I swear, I can’t believe he was jealous of that, that was fucking hot.” Steve snorts, teasing his friend and complimenting you at the same time.
“Iris told me he was clingy, but damn, that boy is attached. It’s cute though, they’re really cute together. Opposites attract and all that.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I believed in that until I saw those two. But I definitely do now.” The look in his eyes said more than his words and you felt your cheeks flush.
As the night went on you and Steve got closer, getting to know each other, having a few drinks together. You eventually found your way into his lap on the couch and all you wanted to do was shove your tongue down his throat and grind down on him but you didn’t feel like having your first kiss with him in the middle of a crowded living room.
“You wanna go somewhere with me Stevie?” You bring your hand to his face, running your thumb over the apple of his cheek.
“Yeah. Anywhere.”
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“What? Scared of a little trespassing, pretty boy?” You smirk at him as you hike your leg up on the fence that you’ve climbed countless times before.
“Don’t worry, me and Iris used to sneak back here all the time when we were kids, it’s safe, promise. Now come on.”
You climb the fence and drop down on the other side before he even has a chance to respond. The fence rattles and you see Steve’s large hands grasp onto the top, you watch as he pulls himself up and jumps over in one swift motion. Hot.
“Show off.” You snort and roll your eyes.
“I can’t help that I’m not only devilishly handsome but naturally athletic.” Steve smirks and you can’t help it when you bust up laughing.
“Okaaay, someone’s been watching too much Zoolander.”
“Hey! You know what… actually, you’re probably right.” Steve’s face settles in his attempt to pull off “blue steel” and it sends you into a second fit of laughter. His deep laughter joins yours and you can’t help but think you’d like to make him laugh like that again and again.
“Oh noooo, he’s found my greatest weakness!! However will I resist the blue steel? Looks like my only choice is to run!!” You take off running, weaving through the apple trees like you have dozens of times before, platform boots be damned.
“You can’t get away that easily!!” You hear Steve’s converse clad feet crunching the fallen leaves as he chases after you.
You take a sharp left and halt when you see your destination, your favorite tree, quickly ducking behind it.
“Pretty little girls always think they can hide from big bad wolves but that’s often not the case.” He dropped his voice octave and you know it’s meant to sound goofy but it makes your thighs clench.
“Ohhhh cute little school mouse, come out, come out wherever you aaaare.” You hear his footsteps approaching the tree and you feel anticipation grow in your belly.
“GOTCHA!!!” Steve pops up behind you, his hands grab your shoulders and you let out a yelp.
“Oh my fucking god! You scared the shit out of me asshole!!” You turn around and land a playful slap on his chest.
“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about teasing me and then making me chase you through a giant apple orchard.”
“I don’t know… I don’t think I’d mind if you chased me around, Steve Harrington.” You bite your lip as your eyes roam over his body. He looks good enough to eat.
“Yeah? You like getting chased, baby? Want me to stalk you like my prey?” He steps closer to you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the mix of beer and cinnamon gum on his breath.
“Yeah. I think I’d like that.” You bite your lip and your thighs subconsciously rub together.
“Maybe some other time…” He closes the small amount of distance remaining between the two of you and reaches his hand up to push a piece of fallen hair off your face. “Right now, I’d really like to kiss you.”
“Yeah? I think I’d like that too.”
One hand cups your jaw and the other comes to rest on your hip so he can pull you flush against him, Steve’s lips meet yours and he kisses you with passion, he kisses you like a boyfriend would and it makes your knees weak. You bring your hands up to fist the collar of his jacket as he guides you backwards until your back hits the tree. His body presses against yours and you can feel that he’s already starting to get hard.
“Mmm I’ve been wanting to do that all fucking night.” He groans as he pulls away for air, both hands now resting on your hips as his body traps you between him and the tree.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that all night.”
“Looks like I’ll have to do it again then.” His lips met yours again but this time the kiss was more desperate, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you dart yours out to meet his, the taste of him making your pussy throb. You feel his gum glide over your tongue and take it into your mouth before pulling away.
“Don’t you know you aren’t supposed to have gum in class, Mr. Harrington?”
“Mr. Harrington, huh? Don’t the teachers make the rules? If that’s the case then I say we can have gum in class…” He licks his lips as he watches you pull the end of the gum from your mouth and twirl it around your finger.
“You want me to do what you say, Mr. Harrington? Is that what you’re saying?” You swirl the gum all the way around your finger before inserting the digit in your mouth to pull it off.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Have you been a good girl? Did you do last night's homework?” He presses you up against the tree, his cock rubs against your inner thigh and you can feel that he’s huge, his caramel eyes that were flecked with hues of green before look black in the light of the moon while he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive.
“No… but…” you bring your black pointed acrylic nails up to his face and drag them lightly down his neck to his chest. “Isn’t there something I could do for extra credit, sir?” You give him your best ‘innocent girl’ pout and bat your eyelashes at him.
“I’m sure we can figure something out… but first I have to punish you for not doing your work.” He grabs your jaw in his large hand and squishes your cheeks together while he shakes your head from side to side. “Hmmm… what am I gonna do with you, huh little mouse? Maybe I should spank you with my belt till you cry?”
Your eyes roll in the back of your head and you moan, the way he quickly transitioned into this dominant role making your head spin.
“You like the sound of that? You’re such a naughty girl.” He has no idea how crazy this is making you, not only were you getting fucked by a boy dressed as a greaser outside on Halloween in your old school uniform that you altered to show way more skin than would be school appropriate but he was basically role playing with you.
Steve was in a similar boat, he genuinely couldn’t believe this was happening. He was mostly just playing it up, maybe testing the waters a little bit, but if you actually let him spank you right here right now he thinks he might fall in love with you.
“If that’s what you think I deserve, sir…” you give him that look again and Steve actually moans, he hasn’t felt like he was going to cum in his pants for years but right now, with you looking at him like that, he thinks he could.
“Turn around and bend over.” His tone is stern and matter of fact and you wouldn’t dare disobey him, even if you wanted to.
You spin around and place both your hands on the tree with your ass sticking out just enough that your tiny skirt rides up to reveal your ass cheeks and a sliver of your red lace panties.
“Jesus fucking christ, baby, you look so sexy like this fuck.” Steve momentarily forgets about your little game, his brain feeling like it was about to short circuit. “Too bad I have to punish you… I’d love to just throw you down in the dirt and have my way with you right now. But you still have to learn your lesson.”
“Yes Mr. Harrington, please teach me a lesson.” You whine and wiggle your ass, causing your skirt to ride up further. The anticipation is killing you as you wait for him to do something, but then you hear it… the sound of his belt clanking open.
He pushes your skirt further up your ass and he rubs his hand over one of the soft cheeks before harshly smacking it. He bites his lip at the little whimper that escapes your mouth and the way the fat on your ass jiggles. A second smack comes down on the other cheek and you let out a loud moan. His hand leaves you and you almost want to cry but then you’re crying out for a different reason when you feel it snake around your hair and yank your head back.
“You gonna be a good girl and count for me? How many do you think you deserve? I say ten.” You feel him bring his belt up to your ass cheeks and run it across them, he swipes it between your thighs and over your pussy, rubbing it along your slick panties.
“Whatever you think is best, sir.” Your voice comes out syrupy sweet.
He leans over you so his lips are grazing your ear “If you want me to stop say red. Now count.”
He stands back to his full height and without warning a loud smack lands on your ass causing you to yelp and surge forward.
“One.”
“Good girl. Again.” Another smack comes down on the same cheek and the sting is delicious.
“Two.”
Another smack on the same cheek followed immediately by a third on the opposite cheek.
“Three - fuck - four.” He releases his grip on your hair to rub his large hand over your ass before landing another smack.
“F-five!”
The next three came swiftly but you still counted each one.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good for me. Just two more, okay?” The bark of the tree was digging into your hands and your ass was burning, Steve’s hand came up to rub over your reddened cheeks and you sigh.
“Yes please.” Is all you can muster and you hear him practically growl behind you before the ninth smack lands on your ass.
“Nine!”
“Good girl baby, that’s my good girl, just one more.”
You brace yourself for the last smack on your ass but it doesn’t come, instead the belt comes up between your legs and smacks against your pussy through your wet panties.
“Ten! Fuck!” You clench your thighs and throw your head back and Steve immediately steps up behind you, wrapping you in his arms.
“Mmm you were so good for me little mouse, I think you deserve your reward now, what do you say?” His hands wrap around you and come up to grab your tits through your shirt while he rubs his hard cock against your ass.
You turn around in his arms and take his face in your hands, kissing him urgently.
“How do you want me, Mr. Harrington?”
You’re still giving him that look and you have this smile on your face like he just got you the gift you wanted most for your birthday. He’s pretty sure you’re his dream girl.
“First, let’s get this off of you.” He reaches for the knot on your shirt that’s keeping it held together and pulls it, the shirt easily falling open to reveal your red lace push-up.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
The way he was looking at you could only be described as romantic and loving, which was a stark contrast from how he was smacking your ass raw just moments ago. His hands reach up and ghost over your collar bones and down your arms, he snakes them around your back before looking at you with a question in his eyes and you nod. As soon as he gets the go ahead he’s unclasping your bra and letting it fall down your arms in one swift motion. Goosebumps rise on your skin as the cool air hits it, causing your nipples to harden immediately.
“The most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.” He leans down to press hot wet kisses along your throat and collar bones. You feel him sucking a bruise into your throat and you gasp, both at the feeling and at the thought of being marked by him. Without warning you pull away from him and drop to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with big eyes that shone in the moonlight.
“Can I suck you off? Please?”
“You don’t have to say please, pretty girl.”
He smirks down at you as he undoes his button and zipper, pulling his boxers and jeans down enough for his cock to come out. When it springs from his pants you can’t hold in the gasp that leaves your lips. It’s big, long and thick and veiny with a well trimmed patch of brown curls at the base. His tip is leaking precum and he is so fucking hard it almost looks painful. You meet his eyes with yours again, spitting in your hand and bringing it to his cock, pumping him a few times before you lean in and lick the salty cum from his head.
“Fuck baby, you’re so sexy like this. On your knees for me in the middle of an orchard in nothing but that little skirt and those socks.” That fucking choker and those boots that he was sure could crush him, he’d let you crush him if you asked.
You take him in your mouth as far down as you can, letting your throat restrict around him before pulling off again for air. You take as much as you can in your mouth and use your hand to glide along with the movements of your mouth. Spit is dripping down your chin, his cock and all over his balls. When you pull off and look up at him he has to physically stop himself from cumming. You’re still jerking him off when you lean in and take one of his balls in your mouth and hum around it. You switch to the other side and he swears he’s losing his mind, he’s never had someone pay attention to his balls like this and your mouth is so warm and wet and if he looks close enough he can see that drool has started to drip down onto your chest.
“O -oh fuck - fuck - shit!” He grips onto your hair to pull you off of him. “God damn, you’re so good, such a good girl. Why don’t you get on your hands and knees for me so I can reward you?”
Instead of responding with words you turn your back towards him and rest your hands on the soft dirt and leaves that covered the ground, you arch so your ass is in the air and look over your shoulder at him. You bite your lip as you watch him take off the leather jacket followed by his shirt and discard them on the ground. He comes up behind you and gets down on his knees, shoving your skirt up over your ass once more. There’s a moment where he pauses and you figure he must’ve noticed your tattoo. You and Iris went to the tattoo shop a few weeks ago and while she got her nipples pierced, you got a tramp stamp.
“Look at these pretty marks on your ass honey, they go so well with your pretty little tattoo, you’re going to be thinking about me for days after this.” He runs his hands over your hips, hooking his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulling them down so they pooled at your knees.
“I’m gonna be thinking about this for the rest of my life, pretty boy.”
“Yeah? And I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He runs his cock through your slick folds, tapping it on your clit a few times before lining it up with your entrance. He pushes his tip in and out a few times before he starts to slowly thrust into you.
Normally you would appreciate him taking his time to let you adjust but right now he has you outside on your knees in the fucking dirt and you want him to ruin you.
“You don’t have to be gentle, I want it rough.” You push your ass back towards him causing his dick to go a few inches deeper. He thrusts the rest of the way into you pushing his hips flush against yours before starting to fuck into you at a brutal pace.
He’s gripping your hips so hard that you hope you have bruises tomorrow, and the noises coming out of him are making you insane. If anyone heard you guys they might think wild animals were fighting.
“You’re so fucking good little mouse, letting me fuck you on the ground like this? God - fuck!”
You don’t think it can get any better than this and then he proves you wrong, you feel his hand wrap around the beads of the rosary on your neck and tug, choking you with it.
“Oh my god - god Steve, fuck! S-so good it’s so g-good.”
He changes his pace slightly, hitting the exact right spot inside you. He drops the rosary so he can snake that hand around the front of you to rub your clit.
“I’m gonna - I’m gonna c-cum Steve, I’m gonna cum.” Your eyes roll in the back of your head and your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm crashes through you.
“F-fuck FUCK! You’re so fucking good, so so good, fuck!” His thrusts turn sloppy and then he’s spilling into you.
“God fucking damn Harrington, you really know how to introduce yourself to a girl.” You giggle as you turn around, letting his cock slip out of you. After you pull your panties up you stand up with shaky legs, looking down at him with an adoring smile.
“I swear I’m usually more of a ‘take her to dinner first’ kinda guy but that whole ‘Mr. Harrington’ thing you did really got me going. I can't lie.” He chuckled, standing up and buttoning his pants. He reaches down to grab your bra off the ground and does a spinning motion with his finger, indicating for you to turn around. You oblige, and you’re pleasantly surprised when you feel him guiding your arms back through your bra. He does the same with your shirt, spinning you around so he can redo the tie. He gives you a sweet kiss and then picks up his shirt and jacket to put them back on. You smile bashfully at him, after all that the thing that makes you blush is him treating you sweetly.
“Thank you Steve, you’re very sweet. It’s also not too late for you to take me to dinner.”
“You’re right little mouse, it’s not, would you like to go to dinner with me? This weekend? Maybe we can catch a movie. Iris told me you like vampires and I saw that a new one is coming out, damned queen or something?”
“Queen of the damned? I really want to see that! I would love to, Stevie!” Your heart swells at the fact that he remembers that little detail about you and you remind yourself to thank Iris later.
“Shall we head back to the party?”
“Ugh, if we must.” You sigh dramatically and playfully roll your eyes. Knowing damn well you are about to walk back into this party looking absolutely wrecked. Your socks were covered in dirt, your ass was bright red and your skirt did little to cover it, and you hadn’t seen it yet but you know with the way Steve was sucking on your neck you have one or two hickies there. But you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care, you would do it all over again.
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When you walk back into the party Iris immediately catches your eye, bounding over to you and whisking you off to the bathroom. You observe her and you can tell you weren’t the only one who just got fucked in the middle of a party.
“Soooo… you took him to the orchard, huh?”
“Oh, I took him there alright, Harrington is a freak. But I guess Eddie is too, huh?” You point to her legs and she looks up at you with flushed cheeks when she sees you’re pointing at the obviously dried cum that had dripped down one of her thighs.
“Well Eddie reaaaaally liked the piercings. It looks like Steve really liked your costume…”
“Oh, you have no idea…”
304 notes · View notes
venusjeon · 2 years
Text
rock god
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you've got one year left to either finish your novitiate and become a nun like your parents always wanted, or leave the order and live a secular life like you've always wanted. but the fact that a sister's flirty nephew is staying in the convent for the summer provides a perfect distraction to such headache.
♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader
♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l
♔ WORD COUNT: 16.3k another long one i'm sorry
♔ WARNINGS: minor characters death, religious themes, catholic guilt, smoking weed, swearing, sacrilege and exhibitionism: fingering in a church, profanity, blasphemy, quiet sex & loss of virginity (you're probably thinking girl AGAIN?), protected sex, betrayal, one mention of rape
♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: for an atheist i do seem to write a lot about religion lol. the first song jk writes & performs for reader + the inspiration for the title is rock god by selena gomez, and the second one church by chase atlantic. i recommend you listen to them in advance☺️ also, we'll pretend jk is blond in the banner okay?
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1986
The day was going incredibly slow, as all of last month’s had.
Most people would attribute that to the fact that you were a novice, but their idea of what that entailed was far from the reality. Contrary to popular belief and even if some sisters wished it was the case, cloistered nuns didn’t spend all day just praying. There were many other things to keep busy with in a convent, such as attending to one’s studies, doing household chores, or working to bring money in and keep the place going. Free time had never been the part of the day you looked the most forward to, though, until recently. Not that it got any better then.
Contradictory as though it was, you were kept from the present by the same plaguing thoughts you didn’t want to be left alone with… And sometimes, such as now, you didn’t have any choice but to force yourself back into reality, running late as you were.
The novice mistress Sister Daeun—that is, the one responsible for the training of the novices—had assigned you to fix the torn seams on your classmates’ habits that morning. Hey, someone had to do it. So off you ran through the cloister not to melt under the same sun others didn’t seem to mind.
Others being Jungkook and the group of girls who gathered around to listen to him play the guitar.
The presence of men wasn’t rare in your abbey, built some centuries back. It was sort of shut off from the rest of the world, hidden up in a mountain, but lost hikers always wandered into it and the abbot was more than happy to let them spend a night or two as guests, regardless of their gender.
Jungkook was a guest too.
He was in a rock band, or so you’d heard, and that career choice was why his parents had kicked him out, something you’d pity him for if he wasn’t always in a cheery mood whenever you chanced to see him around. Of course, what guy wouldn’t, surrounded by girls?
It didn’t bother you that some of your less spiritual sisters succumbed to his tattoos, long dyed blond hair, charming voice, and piercings. Their parents would doubtlessly tell them to stay away from someone who looked like a delinquent—your conscience did too—but then again, they were the ones who’d forcefully made them join the order, so you understood where the girls’ disobedience came from. On a personal level, in fact.
Though not because of the same reason, you weren’t there willingly either.
Unlike theirs, your behaviour wasn’t scandalous in any way and there was no need for you to be schooled in rectitude, no. This was just the path your parents had wanted you to take since you were little and you’d resigned to comply, however unhappy it made you. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t make a good nun, devout as you’d been raised and actually enjoyed being, but it wasn’t your calling.
Leaving the lively cloister behind and trying to do the same with your affliction, you rushed to your destination.
About three hours later, you were still sat in front of the sewing machine in the otherwise empty laundry room, humming on a loop the part of the song Jungkook had been playing earlier. You couldn’t deny it was catchy... Besides, you needed a tune to distract you from the machine’s repetitive noise and the summer heat, or else you’d go crazy. Maybe you had already, given you’d failed to notice someone opening the creaky door and walking in.
“Hello?”
Startled, you raised your head to meet the eyes of the rockstar himself, filled with something akin to interest. “Oh, hi...”
Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Before you could kindly tell him not to worry, that it was your fault for spacing out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt to show you the hole in it that until then you hadn’t caught sight of. “I was told to come here to get this fixed?” He then glanced at the dozen habits lying on the table you still had to work on, and changed his mind not to burden you, “But I can come another time– Or not at all! I mean, ripped clothes are trendy, aren’t they?”
For the first time in a while, you laughed genuinely and not out of courtesy, “I wouldn’t know, there’s not much variety in a novice’s wardrobe.” Since Jungkook’s t-shirt would just take a moment to mend and you didn’t mind helping him, you decided to neglect your current task without a second thought, holding out your hand with a smile. “It’s alright, really!”
“You’re an angel.” He smiled back as he took off his t-shirt, exposing a toned body you weren’t prepared for. Bet he says that to all the girls, intruded a thought in your mind as though to make go away the uplift of his compliment, but you brushed it off before he reached the table. “By the way, was that my song you were just humming?”
“Oh? I heard you sing it earlier, but I didn’t know it was yours,” you said while getting to work. Meanwhile, Jungkook leaned against the door’s frame. “I don’t really listen to music much.”
“What?!” He was utterly shocked, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost. “That’s the greatest sin of all! I’ll have a serious conversation with the abbot, they’re not teaching you girls the important stuff here.” Father Jimin would certainly be amused at such a request. “But I did see you running earlier in the cloister, now that I think about it. It is hot, Y/N, but I don’t believe the floor is in flames.”
He knows my name? What a stupid question. Whoever had told him to come to the laundry room must have seen you entering it and mentioned you’d be there.
“Yeah, I was late, had overslept. It probably looked like someone was chasing me… Nun on the run!” you rhymed out of nowhere. “There’s a title for your next single.”
“If naming my songs will get you to listen to them, I’m down.” You looked up from the task at hand to ask him if that meant he’d credit ‘Sister Y/N’ as a songwriter, but the sight of someone walking down the hallway towards the laundry room scared the words away. “You know, you’re too pretty to be a nun.”
Sister Daeun, now right behind Jungkook, smacked the back of his head and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jungkook’s smile turned into a pout as he rubbed the spot. “Nothing, aunty. Ouch…”
Yes, he was her nephew, which was the main reason why Father Jimin had allowed him to stay not just for a few days, but the whole summer. Sister Daeun had promised on his behalf that as a thanks, he would help around to earn his bed and under no circumstances put in peril anyone’s vow of chastity. If he weren’t so good-looking, you imagined she wouldn’t have needed to make that promise.
“Y/N…” she sighed when she saw the pile of habits you had yet to fix the seams of. Despite the disappointment in her voice, she made sure to say tactfully, “It’s almost midday, I asked you to have all of them done before ten.”
Jungkook was the only one in the room who had no clue as to why you’d been working so slowly, but he didn’t hesitate to step forward when your head lowered in shame. “My bad, I’ve been distracting her for hours. And on top of it, I gave her more work…”
He approached the sewing machine, got his t-shirt, and put it on, all while you stared at him at a loss for words. Why would he take the blame? Sister Daeun started telling you to finish some other time and get ready for lunch, but you stopped listening, attention fixed on Jungkook as he discreetly winked at you before leaving.
That wasn’t the last time you met that day. Well, incorrect, because it was past midnight.
Like many nights before, guilt stirred a restlessness that kept you from falling asleep, the only solution you could think of being walking around the empty abbey in the hope of tiring your body and with it, your brain. It wasn’t that easy, though, often hours how long you’d wander about, always ending up at the cloister. Sitting on the stone base between the columns and gazing up at the stars brought some peace to you. More than praying, it appeared.
That night, such peace was disrupted when barely after ten minutes of it, the sound of a lighter being flicked made your head whip around.
“So you do have hair,” Jungkook joked as he sat against a column, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow on it. Although a bit embarrassed you were in your pyjamas and thus wearing no white veil that covered your head in front of a guy you didn’t know, you did the same on the next column to be able to face him. “Can’t sleep either?”
“Lately, not.”
He puffed at his joint before offering it to you, and a short laugh broke through your lips. Was he seriously tempting a novice to burn one with him? To be fair, he did mean to help you sleep, but it was still a bit… much for you. “I’ll pass, thank you.”
“Yeah, probably not a good idea,” Jungkook nodded at his own words before taking another puff, blowing the smoke to a side so it wouldn’t reach you. “I don’t want your parents to make a complaint because there’s a bloke loose in the convent corrupting the nuns. Can’t afford to be kicked out of here, too,” he whispered the last bit, as though talking to himself.
“Don’t worry, that’s not happening.”
“Why not? Are you girls not allowed visits or something?”
“No, we are, it’s just… they died last month. Car crash.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” You could see in Jungkook’s wide eyes how much he regretted bringing them up. “That explains why you were out of sorts this morning... Agh, I can’t believe they’re still making you do work, what a bunch of heartless pricks! Not to mention class, I mean, isn’t it summer?”
His indignation for your sake came as a surprise. Ignorantly, you’d allowed prejudices to decide what kind of person Jungkook was before he got the chance to show you himself. The familiar guilt well-deservedly returned to grip your heart.
“Father Jimin actually had me switch jobs with some sisters so that I’d get to do less demanding stuff,” you came to the poor abbot’s defence. “It makes no difference, but he’s not to blame nothing can.”
"Doesn’t praying help?” He took another puff, lips curling into a smirk at the thought that next crossed his mind. “I thought nuns had a direct line with God.”
The truth was your relationship with the Lord had strained. As someone whose thoughts and desires couldn’t help but fall into sin over and over, you didn’t feel worthy of His comfort, or dared ask for guidance. His or anybody’s.
“I have to go through the telephonist angels first, I’m not an official nun yet.” The muscles of your face relaxed, gaze falling to your lap. “To be honest, I don’t think I want to be.”
Jungkook’s head cocked to a side. “Really? So, what are you doing here? You don’t strike me as the type forced by her p– uh, family.”
“I do like this place and what they’re teaching us, but I’m here because my parents wanted a saintly daughter who could put in a good word for them up there. I tried telling them once that I have dreams of my own, but it ended in an argument they had the last word in. Now that they’re dead, it’s like the topic is permanently sealed, I can never talk them out of it. And I mean, I love them, so how can I disappoint them? What would it say about me if I waited until my parents were dead to disobey them?”
Only after you finished venting did it dawn on you that perhaps you’d said too much. After all, what did Jungkook care? What did anyone?
“What’s your dream?”
The question took you aback, but you still answered, “I’d like to go to university, get married someday, have kids... Not be trapped inside these four walls for the rest of my life, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean, trust me,” Jungkook said quietly before puffing at his joint again. “You’re free to leave, though, right? I don’t need to master-plan an escape?”
You hummed a laugh, mindful not to be loud enough to wake anyone up, given neither of you should be out of bed. There may or may not have been a curfew you were breaking, as well as a tradition called the Great Silence in which everyone kept quiet from the final liturgical prayer of the day until the earliest one the next morning. It was a rule often broken, especially by you, but that didn’t mean the abbey wasn’t dead silent.
“Anytime I want, yes, only next year I’m supposed to take my solemn vows.” Jungkook nodded but a slight frown gave away he didn’t know what that meant. “Poverty, chastity, and obedience? It’s like a wedding with Jesus. I can always divorce him, but that doesn’t mean marriage is a light affair.”
Most orders didn’t work like that. There were various stages one had to go through before becoming a professed nun: an optional aspirancy, then a postulancy, a novitiate, and finally, a juniorate. Since you’d gone to Catholic school all your life, you’d skipped the first, done no more than a few months of the second, were about to start the final year of the third, and would not be doing the fourth since your convent didn’t teach it. Instead of six more years of formation before taking your perpetual vows, then, you had only one.
“Damn, and here I thought I had the most fucked up horoscope of the year. Maybe we were born on the same month.”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t everyone know my parents kicked me out because I want to be a rockstar?”
“Yeah...”
Once again, you’d assumed wrongly about him. That because of his profession and looks, he was a rebellious kid who hated his parents and was glad to be rid of them. You hadn’t even considered their shunning might be putting him through a hard time.
“Look, disappointing your parents beats living a miserable life just to please them, even if it sucks. One day we’ll be old, and I personally want to look back and not regret my youth, feel like I wasted it. I’m not gonna tell you what to do but if you want my opinion, getting out of here and chasing your dreams says no more than you’re in charge of your own life.”
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You had no idea why after that, Jungkook had taken it as his mission to stick with you.
It was common knowledge that you’d barely uttered ten words since your parents’ accident, so all eyes were drawn like magnets when you engaged in conversation with him of all people for hours on end. Since you came from vastly different worlds, it surprised you too that even though his company didn’t lessen your guilt, it was the best way to distract you from it. And precisely, that was his intention.
He would sit next to you at meals, trying to convince the sisters around the table in all seriousness that because they were cloistered, they weren’t aware Earth had been invaded by aliens last year.
“Do you think we’re stupid?” a postulant asked, giggles escaping you at how ridiculous the conversation you were having was. “Some of us do go out sometimes, I think we would’ve noticed.”
“They want you to think everything’s normal because only an army of nuns can defeat them!”
“How do we know you’re not one of them, huh?” you played along, narrowing your eyes in suspicion while Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, feigning shock.
“Aunty will vouch for me but even if not, I can’t believe you’d doubt me. We’ve known each other for like, what, a week? That’s enough for me to follow you into battle.”
“Sorry but can’t be too careful during an alien invasion.”
“That I warned you about! Why would I say anything in the first place?”
“I’ve been here for many years,” an older nun chimed in from the other side of the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. She addressed Jungkook, “You’ve just reminded me why I joined the order.”
He blinked, dumbfounded. “Why, sister?”
“Men talk so much nonsense it makes my head hurt.”
To see Jungkook argue playfully about aliens and men with a seventy-year-old nun who was having none of his shit was an experience, but it wouldn’t be just that.
Like you’d told him, Father Jimin had allowed you to switch jobs. Your old one consisted of embellishing clothes with elaborate religious embroideries—hence why Sister Daeun had asked for your help with the torn habits—that would later be sold on a street market stall in town beside other products manufactured by your sisters, whereas your new one required almost no effort.
There was an old married couple nearby who ran a goat farm, and a small group of nuns from your convent helped them in exchange of a portion of the food they made, instead of a salary. Father Jimin was clearly trying his best to raise your spirits when he’d assigned you to tend to the cutest new-born goats, but it wasn’t until Jungkook tagged along and you saw him struggle with the baby bottles, spilling milk all over his clothes and cursing at the tiny animals, that the abbot’s goal was achieved.
“No, no, no, come back, you little shit!” He chased a hoppy kid around the barn, unable to contain that lovely high-pitched laugh.
“How are you making a mess out of literally the easiest thing in the world?” you teased from the bag of pine shavings you were sat on, another kid resting otherwise peacefully on your lap.
“That’s easy for you to say, I’ve got Psycho making me do cardio over here!”
“Try this one,” you giggled, motioning to the empty spot beside you with your head so Jungkook would sit down. When he did, you lay the kid on his lap carefully and brought the baby bottle to its mouth, both of you watching as it fed without any problem. “See?”
It didn’t take long for the milk to run out, after which you and Jungkook stroked the kid to sleep while the other one still hopped around, sharing a smile when your fingers accidentally brushed.
Because he’d tag along, you agreed to helping out in the kitchen on another day, as time was somehow bearable if he was there. But you were still going through the motions, your parents’ absence ever-present.
“What do you think?” Jungkook stirred you awake from your trance. “Bitchin’, right? The best thing you’ve ever heard?”
The song that got stuck in your head the day you met was playing on a boombox he’d brought from his van and put on the worktop while the two of you and three other sisters cooked lunch.
The girl you’d just heard, he had explained, was the band’s lead singer Amber, whom he sometimes joined apart from playing the guitar. There were also a Hoseok on the drums and a Taehyung on the bass. Bangtan, their name was. You’d never heard of them.
“I’m not sure about the lyrics,” meaning all the cursing and allusions to sex, which got your sisters flustered in the background, “but I like the tune.”
“The tune…”
“I’m just more used to church songs, is all.” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No.” You knew he was thinking exactly of blasting his rock songs in the middle of Mass.
“Why not?” he asked as a joke while trying to steal a couple of french fries from a dish. You slapped his hand before he could.
“Because Father Jimin will exile you, duh.”
“And don’t you think I’ll give up yet. I’ll be found outside your cell’s window playing music on my boombox until you agree to go out with me.” You should’ve cast away the heat before it reached your cheeks, as his flirting was obviously just for fun. Something he did with all girls and which meant nothing. “Better yet, I’ll write you a song.”
“I don’t think a novice is the perfect muse for a rock song, especially if it’s about…”
Jungkook shook his head. “I’ll keep it PG-13 for you, I promise.” He then grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll start working on it tonight.”
You weren’t together at all times, though. No, you had class, he had work, sometimes you didn’t see him for whole days. Such was the case one cloudy afternoon around three weeks after first meeting, when Father Jimin approached you in the cloister. It had been a while since your last visit to his confessional box, so you feared a scolding.
“I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he said with that distinctive, soothing voice of his as you walked together, “about Jungkook.”
Your heart missed a beat for a reason that escaped your knowledge. It felt, somehow, as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. “What about him, Father?”
“I hadn’t seen you smile for a while and now it’s all you do when he’s by your side. I know the past month has been very difficult, so it makes me happy to see you get through the loss of your parents, Y/N.” Did it really look like things were fine? Well, better that than having everyone worry about you until things got fixed, if that ever happened. “However,” Father Jimin continued, “as your Spiritual Director, it’s my duty to advise you not to rely too much on someone other than God for solace. There’s a reason for enclosure, so that the outside world doesn’t distract us from religion. Unless… you’ve reconsidered your life as a nun? There’d be nothing wrong with that.”
What Jungkook had told you that first night, you’d been chewing on ever since, but God and your parents had long won the war. ‘Honour thy father and thy mother’ was one of the Ten Commandments, after all.
“I have no doubts. I belong here.”
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The last time you’d stepped in town had been for the funeral, but Bangtan was doing a gig at what Jungkook claimed was the coolest venue he’d ever been in and he’d managed to persuade the other members to perform Rock God, the song he’d pulled an all-nighter to write. You didn’t know what a title like that had to do with someone like you but apparently, the lyrics were from your point of view.
“You have to come,” he’d begged for the millionth time across the table the previous day, interrupting your Bible reading in the library. Luckily, nobody else was there, or had been before his arrival.
‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’
Did that mean He would forgive you for the sin of going against your parents’ wishes? That you could hang the white veil and live how you dreamed of? The next passages from the Book of Isaiah answered those questions.
‘If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land: But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.’
In other words, you were fucked. There was no way out.
“I’d have to ask Father Jimin for permission, and I don’t think he’d let me go to a rock concert.”
You’d laughed to yourself at the idea but Jungkook had been serious, insisted, “Tell him you want to go buy groceries or something, he won’t say no to you.”
“You mean, ‘lie to him because he’ll take pity on you.’”
“Please.” He’d sank his elbows on the table, leaning so close you almost had to back away. You would have, had he not bewitched you with the most angelic of smiles. “Do it for me? I’ll tell Saint Peter I made you do it so he lets you in Heaven.”
That’s how you ended up in the queue for his concert, holding a plastic bag full of stationary you’d told Father Jimin you needed for class.
Jungkook had given you no ticket, said telling the security guy your name would suffice, and surely enough ‘Sister Y/N’ got you in. The habit had wisely been left at home, but the man still frowned at your modest outfit before putting a wristband on you that was a different colour than everyone else’s. You assumed it meant you were VIP.
There was a secluded area with round tables near the stage you were indeed taken to, where only a handful of other people were hanging out, waiting for the show to begin. You wouldn’t have thought of approaching them, as there was likely nothing you had in common, with them or anyone in the whole poorly lit venue. If you were there, out of your comfort zone, it was for Jungkook only.
The lights at some point changed colours and finally, the concert began. Bangtan got on the stage and performed song after song, giving their all to an audience that cheered loudly. You cheered too, captivated by a Jungkook who made you feel things with every look he gave you.
His blond hair was wet, whether with water, product, or sweat you didn’t know, but it dripped down his curls to his ripped clothes which allowed a glimpse of the inked skin of his torso. When had he got new tattoos? They weren’t there the day he’d got his t-shirt off for you to sew. You had never paid much attention to those that covered his veiny right arm and hand, but now you found yourself tickled by the fact, and wanting to see them up close. Definitely the tattoos, not his bare body… But most tantalising of all was the passionate way he played his electric guitar, moving around the stage with a confidence that made it clear he belonged there.
With that confidence, though, came a cockiness that had him eye-fucking every pretty girl in the crowd. Who’s to say he didn’t write songs for them too? Not to mention Amber, to whom he sometimes got so close you feared they were going to kiss—as did their fans, judging by their screams of excitement.
The last song of the night was Rock God, which he made sure to announce by enthusiastically mouthing you ‘This is it!’. You braced yourself for the lyrics.
Preacher man walked into the club, and he said He said, "Hey girl, can't you walk and not stray?" Father, I'm torn and I'm selling my soul to the Rhythm, the beat and the bass 'Cause I can't confess my rock and roll ways (Ooh) 'Cause I'm so possessed with the music The music he plays
Was the preacher man supposed to be Father Jimin? He wasn’t likely to walk in the venue right then, but the idea of him attending a rock concert was so absurd it made you smile. You guessed the tone of the song before Amber had even got to the chorus.
I can't stop my feet from dancing to the sound of his drum (Oh no) I fell in love with my rock god I can't keep my hips from swaying to his sweet melody You see, I fell in love with my rock, rock god
Oh, so not only did you like his music in this narrative, but you were also in love with him? You raised an eyebrow at that, to which he failed to bite down a smile. There must be thrill in succeeding to seduce a novice.
The next verse was similar to the first one. Then came the chorus again, twice, but it was the bridge that struck you, putting an end to the fun you were having. Jungkook watched your reaction closely, as he had during the whole song.
No, I wouldn't change a thing even if I could 'Cause I chose a path and I'm not looking back And I'm sorry if I left the angels crying over me
The chorus was sung twice more but the music muffled into the back of your mind, the bridge’s words lingering in the foreground. Would you be able to choose a path that resulted in your angels weeping? How could you? And how could Jungkook portray you as remorseless over it, when the matter was eating away at you inside?
The show was over before you knew it, and the audience slowly exited the venue while the band got out of their rockstars outfits and makeup backstage. About fifteen minutes later, they came into the area you were sat in and Jungkook bumped fists with the friends who’d come to see him in a rush, so as to not keep you waiting any longer.
Checking out your collared shirt and ankle-length skirt while approaching, he whistled. “Gee, Y/N, I can’t handle myself when you dress so sexy.”
“Because a novice’s habit is so much better.”
“There’s an appeal to it. Makes a man want to tempt you.” Earning a smile from him, you rolled your eyes. “Thoughts on the song. Shoot.”
You pouted. “Full of blasphemies. Are you supposed to be the rock god?”
“Who else?” Jungkook asked surprised. How did that escape you?
“Then why do I say ‘sound of his drum’? You’re a guitar player. Are you trying to set me up with your bandmate?”
“‘Guitar’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘god’,” he said matter-of-factly, it hitting him in the pause that followed. You laughed. “Well, yeah, neither does ‘drum’… but it does a bit more, right?”
“A bit more, yes. So, are you and Amber dating?”
Jungkook smirked. “Jealous much?”
“If you are,” you ignored his question, “she might not be too happy her boyfriend’s writing songs to other girls.”
“She has a boyfriend,” he cleared up, lifting a weight off your chest. “We’re just friends, what we do onstage is part of the show. Don’t worry, you don’t have to fight anyone to keep me.”
“What a relief,” you joked, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Listen, I’m gonna get going, it’s late and you said you were getting some drinks with Bangtan, so I’ll leave you to it. I had fun tonight, you did great.”
“I can drive you to the convent,” he offered, but you shook your head, picking the plastic bag up from the table.
“It’s alright, Sisters Joan and Theresa are still at their stall in the street market. I’ll go back with them.”
“Swell…” he said under his breath, hoping you couldn’t tell he’d wanted to say ‘bummer’ instead.
You didn’t see each other until the next night, when you broke the curfew yet again to hang out in the kitchen. Sat on the table, the two of you discussed your dilemma while sipping at the awful tea Jungkook had made. There weren’t many ways to fuck up tea, but he’d still managed it, holding the old kettle responsible.
All had begun with him pointing out you’d paled towards the end of Rock God and you telling him the lyrics had moved you because you’d chosen to finish your novitiate. There was no way, therefore, you could sell your soul to the rhythm, the beat, and the bass.
“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you what to do, but–”
“You did.”
“But hear me out. Now that we’re friends, I can’t just watch you make a decision I know you already regret.”
“I’d regret leaving too, at least this is the selfless choice.”
“Well, aren’t you a good person!” Jungkook’s mocking made you sigh and sip on your tea like it were alcohol. It did taste as bad. “Y/N, you need to live for yourself, not for two fuddy-duddies who couldn’t put their daughter’s happiness before theirs.”
“Don’t be mean to them.”
Jungkook only bit his tongue because of your pleading tone. “Sorry… Even if you loved your parents, you can’t deny they put you in a tough spot. I’m sure wherever they are, they’ve realised they were wrong and want you to be happy however you choose.”
“The thing is, they were convinced I’d be happy as a nun, that I just wanted to switch to secular on a whim. That’s why they ordered me to stay, they were looking out for me.” Jungkook almost grimaced at the word ‘ordered’, fought against commenting how messed up was the fact that you were using it in this context. Staring at the almost empty mug on your lap, you wondered whether it was insensitive of you to speak your mind. “It’s also what’s happened to you that I couldn’t bear happening to me, even if my parents are gone. I don’t want to do anything that would make them spurn me. I don’t want them not to love me,” your voice broke despite your best efforts.
Jungkook immediately stole the mug from your fingers and put it next to his on the table, so he could hold your hands. “Listen to me, my parents are assholes. Like, genuine bad people who shouldn’t’ve been allowed to have a kid. I won’t tell you the things they’ve said and done to me because you’d cry, but they are a different breed. Normal parents love their children no matter what. Why do you think yours would spurn you if they were still alive, instead of realising that they were making you unhappy?”
Good point, actually. If only it wasn’t far more complicated than that…
The second Jungkook withdrew his hands, you missed their warmth, even though it was a hot summer night. He sipped at his tea, and you suspected he only mmm-ed with delight to make you laugh, given he bloody well knew its taste was disgusting. Idiot.
“Just promise me one thing,” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you quit being a novice, go out on a date with me.”
Now, that made you laugh. “A date?”
Jungkook nodded, anchoring his foot to one of the legs of your chair so he could drag it close to his and rest his arm on its top rail, the proximity such that you could feel his breathing against your cheek. Heart racing, you crossed your arms and tried your hardest to appear unbothered. “I’ll pick you up at five and we’ll go roller-skating until we can’t feel our legs, then we’ll have dinner in my van while we watch a drive-in movie– A scary one, so you cling onto me for safety. Then I’ll drive you home, walk you to your door, and you’ll go ‘Oh! It’s too late, why don’t you stay over?’. So we’ll have some drinks, and you’ll take my hand to lead me into your bedroom, and then…”
“And then we’ll say our prayers and go to sleep.”
“To sleep, yes,” Jungkook chuckled, “afterwards.”
“I don’t know what makes you think I wouldn’t live almost like a nun if I left here. I am, in fact, a Catholic.”
“A relaxed one, I dare say. Oh, come on. You’ve never thought about breaking your faith’s rules? Not even to have fun?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a confession, but you shook your head.
“I can have fun without breaking the rules, I always have.”
Jungkook nibbled at his lip for a while, mentally debating with himself. Whichever of the voices in his head won, it made him say, “What if I showed you my ways? Would you be up for that?”
“Up for what, exactly?”
“You’ll see.”
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Due to the series of communal prayers scattered throughout the day called Liturgy of Hours, it was as early as five that the whole convent got up. You’d usually go straight back to bed after the first one and get what more rest you could until it was time for class or work, but today, despite it being Sunday, a few sisters had volunteered to go to the farm and help around, you and Jungkook joining them to nanny the goats.
You didn’t mind getting your habit dirty there, but it was being an awfully hot July, which was the reason why you were wearing lighter clothes that morning when walking into the chapel alongside Jungkook to attend Mass. He was an atheist whom you supposed only went to these things to spend more time with you, and that warmed your heart.
Ever since you’d started hanging out, the same less devout sisters who’d previously flocked around him had gone back to the handsome abbot’s orbit, so the nearer pews to the altar had quickly been taken. Together, you sat alone at the back, the pew all to yourselves. Three quite tall sisters were sat in the one in front of you and acted as a barrier Father Jimin hid behind of, but as long as you heard him, it didn’t matter.
Your mind went elsewhere no more than a couple of minutes into the service anyway. Tuning out seemed to be easy as of late.
It was just so unfair, all of it. You could be learning in university, meeting new people, living a normal life where you wouldn’t need to ask an abbot for permission to go out if you fancied taking a fucking walk! It didn’t have to mean you’d stop practising your religion or let yourself fall into sin at all, nothing had to change in that regard. You took a deep breath charged with frustration. If only your parents hadn’t decided to take the car in the middle of a storm and you’d had more time to make them see reason… Why did they have to die? Why did God have to take them and leave you alone?
Right in the middle of your brooding was when Jungkook put his hand on your bare knee and asked in a whisper, “Hey, are you okay?”
You forced a smile that he didn’t seem convinced by, so his hand remained on the same spot after he’d gone back to paying attention to Mass. His touch didn’t make you uncomfortable, you welcomed it and the comfort it provided, but your jaw did drop when it slowly travelled down your inner thigh, towards your intimate area.
“What are you doing?” you mouthed, petrified at the possibility of anyone noticing. Luckily, the only person facing the pews was Father Jimin, who couldn’t see a thing from the altar thanks to your barrier-sisters.
“Showing you my idea of fun,” Jungkook leaned in to whisper, lips brushing against your earlobe. It wasn’t that what made you gulp, though, but the fact that he reached your clit and rubbed it softly over your linen shorts, up and down, side to side… The unexpected pleasure made your breath hitch in your throat, gaze flying around the chapel at the speed of light. “No one’s watching,” Jungkook reassured you. “Live a little, Y/N.” Feeling his middle finger now press your clit firmly and at an increasing pace, you looked at him, shocked there was no sign of shame on his features, eyes half-lidded with arousal as they studied your worried ones. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Stop? You were still registering something had started there, in a sacred place, during Mass! What you were letting Jungkook do to you was all kinds of sinful, but… it felt so good you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Sobering up, he ceased his actions at that lack of consent, and was going to withdraw his hand and apologise had you not grabbed it and kept it in place down there, much to the surprise of both.
Relief showed on Jungkook in the form of an exhale. He wasted no time, then, sliding his hand inside your shorts and underwear, making you bite down on your lip when he found your clit once more and rubbed it in circles. He lingered there just enough to make your core pulsate with ache when he abandoned it to move on to your wet slit, something you had to slouch for him to do. He eased two fingers inside you that he began pumping in and out with a mastery that got you squirming in your seat, hand glued to your mouth to hold back the moans that threatened to escape it and gaze locked on the tattooed sleeve that disappeared inside your shorts.
That was when everyone started singing a hymn. Jungkook took the chance to quicken his movements, the sounds of your irregular breathing and his fingers sliding into your juices eclipsed by the song. He licked his lips, coating them with saliva before leaving chaste kisses on your neck, knowing if his tongue met it he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from fucking you right there and then. When he pulled back, he noticed you’d closed your eyes to get lost in the pleasure, and that they opened only when you felt his breath near your parted lips, to stare down at his. So close, yet he restrained the urge to kiss you, intent on watching you come.
He didn’t have to wait long, your walls now clenching around his fingers every time he rubbed that magical spot, thighs shaking as a result. All the tension built up inside of you suddenly released, and you dissolved into a daze just in time for the ending of the hymn. Not to overstimulate you, Jungkook gently removed his fingers and slipped out of the chapel. He returned a minute later with his hand washed and dry, and although you readily intertwined fingers with his when he reached out, you dared not meet his eyes after what had just happened.
That night you lay awake tossing and turning forever, unable to forget the feel of his touch.
Inexplicably, you weren’t ashamed of all the sins you’d added to the collection that day: falling into the temptation of lust, doing pre-marital sexual acts that didn’t lead to procreation, breaching your vow of chastity, desecrating a holy place, taking the sacrament while in mortal sin… Somehow, you just weren’t. You were, right after, but now it was as though you’d managed to sweep all the guilt related to it under the rug. As for the one related to your parents, well, Jungkook had been the sweetest distraction from it.
A distraction you craved again.
You must have been held sway by a demon when you got up from bed to go find Jungkook, but you were in no hurry to free yourself from its grasp.
Except for the first night, he tended to be the sleepless one who wandered about the abbey until you eventually joined him, so you knew he’d be awake. Indeed, he was on the phone in the community room, getting tangled up in the cord as he paced around, nervous. He couldn’t see you lurking in the hallway’s shadows, so you decided to let curiosity get the better of you and eavesdrop the conversation he was having.
“No, you’re not following,” he whispered into the phone. “My cousin’s friend’s brother is into this hot religious girl, and I– he! sort of fingered her in public… In a church… No, there were people present, it was in the middle of Mass… Nobody, that I’m– that he’s aware… No, Hoseok, it’s not dope! He’s going up and down the walls like a fucking yoyo... He isn’t so sure it was a good idea, fears he might’ve crossed a line… Well, he hasn’t seen her since, I think she’s been avoiding him– Agh, he thinks!... Fuck yeah, she did, and he loved it too… The problem is that I don’t want her to regret it and feel bad about it just because it wasn’t the time or place, or to never want to have sex because I got her into it the wrong way… What? He, I said he… You’re right,” he sighed, putting an end to his pacing. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, bro... ‘Night.”
Arms crossed, you couldn’t help but smile fondly. He was that worried about it? You should’ve known, you were friends after all. That was all he probably wanted to be, at least. Friends. With benefits, but friends. Who would want to be more than that not only with a novice, but with one as troubled as you?
A noise made you look up. It was Jungkook, now by the window, flicking his lighter over and over to pass the time. Your eyes inspected his fingers under the moonlight, the same ones he’d buried inside you that morning, and the longing that had got you out of bed returned to move your feet in his direction. You must’ve been abrupt while approaching him, though, as he jolted with a gasp at the sight of you.
“Sorry.”
“Y/N…” he said as he caught his breath from the startle. He had hoped you’d show up, but not so suddenly. Payback, he thought, for the way we met. “Listen, about earlier–”
You cut his sentence short with a kiss. It was soft at first, as timid as you felt, but Jungkook soon got over the shock that had frozen him and took charge of the matter, pulling you in a tight embrace. His tongue entered your mouth and swirled around yours like it was always meant to, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. How else could it feel so good, and Jungkook so addictive?
It was a challenge, but you found the strength to step back and whisper so lowly that he almost didn’t hear, “I want you.”
“Are you sure?” Jungkook cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. No need for that, they already had you enthralled, dark with the desire you’d infected him with.  
“Yes,” you exhaled, taking his hands in yours to lead him upstairs. “With you, yes.”
Once in your cell, you lost your pyjamas in a matter of seconds, both too impatient to feel each other.
Being naked and seeing Jungkook so was initially nerve-racking but once you were under the sheets, under his toned body, your bashfulness flew out the window. Especially when you saw his dick, already hard from just making out—you figured he’d been charged up since the morning. Yet his priority wasn’t his own pleasure, but yours, not an inch of your skin left untouched by his lips as he slowly travelled downwards. Until you started giggling out of nowhere, and Jungkook raised his head from in between your boobs to look at you in confusion.
“Your Barbie hair is tickling me,” you teased him as you tucked behind his ears the blond cascade that covered his face and grazed over your chest whenever he moved.
“Barbie, huh?” Jungkook whispered next to your ear only to lay a warm kiss right under it, all while he positioned himself in between your legs. “Do you want me to tickle you somewhere else?”
“Actually, I…” How did one say such a thing? “I want to tickle you, but I don’t know what to do.”
He chuckled, “My pleasure to instruct you.”
You did as he said and reclined next to him, upside down so he could touch you—he’d insisted—while you sucked him off. It did feel strange to take him in your mouth and run your tongue along the length of his shaft, at least until you heard his breathing speed up, resisting to buck his hips into your face as he was. Your cunt throbbed, and you wished Jungkook’s cock was inside it instead of your mouth. He seemed to sense that, so his hand soon crept between your thighs to remedy your ails, a whine escaping you then.
“You’re just as tight as earlier, fuck,” he groaned from the pillow as his fingers struggled to curl and uncurl inside of you, given you couldn’t keep still. It made you all the more eager to pleasure him, taking him as deep as you could so he saw the same stars you were beginning to see yourself. “You’re doing so well… That’s it, suck it harder, darling, ah… Wait, stop, stop!”
Immediately, you backed off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Jungkook sat up and used his thumb to wipe the drooling trail of saliva on your chin. “You were doing too well, miss.” Ogling your body, he licked his thumb. “Why don’t you come over here?” You nodded, would’ve agreed to do anything he asked in that moment.
He lay down again while holding your hands to guide you over to his lap, over his erection, but your sudden nerves made you shy away. Nevertheless, Jungkook pulled you closer with a smirk. “Where are you running off to?”
“I’m sorry, just… Will it hurt?”
He sat up to peck your lips cutely, “Oh, it will be excruciatingly painful,” and you pushed his chest with an eye-roll, so he returned to his previous position. He grabbed the condom he’d stopped by his cell to get before following you to yours and put it on.
A deep breath later, you grabbed his cock and placed its tip in your wet entrance, looking down at it to make sure you were doing it right. Hands between his head and the pillow, Jungkook watched patiently, turned on by your inexperience and the fact that he and he alone got to be the one to pop your cherry, make you break your vow of chastity. He thought it’d take you a while to get used to the size of his dick, but you surprised him by rolling your hips almost aggressively the second you sat on it, chasing pleasure as though it would escape from your grasp otherwise.
“Shit, yes, like that.” All flushed under you and with his eyes barely open, feeling the way you moved with all his senses, Jungkook ignited a lust in you that even an angel would be willing to fall from grace for.
“Oh my God, it feels so good…”
“I know, baby.” He wanted to dig his nails into your hips and move them back and forth himself but found that for a virgin, you were already doing a superb job, laughed instead. “Look at you, fuck. What a dirty bitch, you’re loving it.”
“I am…” you panted, his name-calling sending you over the edge. “Jesus, I am.”
It wasn’t long until Jungkook felt your walls clench tight around him, something he didn’t blame you for as he himself was close too. His cock had been burning in his pants ever since Mass, even after he’d jerked himself off in his cell when the service had finished and you’d vanished. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close to his mouth and kissed you hungrily, but even then, you refused to stop moving, felt too good. “Gonna come already? You like me that bad?”
I like you a lot. You were having a tough time not moaning, especially when he talked. His deep voice did all manner of things to you. “I’m so close, ah...”
“Why don’t I help you out with that, hm?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before bending his knees and repeatedly thrusting into you with such force that it had you gasping for air. If you’d known he could fuck you like that, you’d have asked him to be on top at the beginning. Eyes squeezed shut, you buried your head in the crook of his neck to moan against it as you came, finally letting go. Jungkook bit into your shoulder, not to hurt you, just hard enough to keep himself from grunting loudly as he found his own release after a few more thrusts, but your bodies remained locked until your heartbeats slowed down.
It didn’t hit you how loud your panting had been until your breath toned down and there was silence in the room. You prayed it hadn’t woken anybody up.
At some point, you got off Jungkook for him to remove his condom and go throw it in the bin next to your desk. You covered your naked body with the sheets, expecting to next see him get dressed, but he lay back on the bed. You didn’t understand.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
He scoffed. “Kicking me out, ouch. Why would I leave?”
“I thought… that’s what guys do.” At least, that was what your non-virgin sisters had told you. That men lost interest in a woman as soon as they’d had their way with her.
Jungkook shook his head as he said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Having sex surely messed with one’s head, there was no other explanation as to why you blushed like a teenager. The two of you got on your side, facing each other, and Jungkook started caressing your arm with the back of his fingers, the simple action so soothing you thought you’d fall asleep. “Is this nice?”
“Very,” you replied, eyes closing against your will.
“Did I go too far earlier?”
You were taken aback by the sudden question. “Maybe, but I liked it. You were right about breaking the rules. Looking back… I think it was what you said about living a little that got to me. Here at the convent, I don’t really feel alive, but I do when we’re this close.”
“See?” Jungkook asked gently, trying to make you see his point. “What’s stopping you from quitting, then? Nothing should cost you feeling alive.”
“Apart from my parents?” you sighed. “Look around. As a novice, I couldn’t receive their inheritance. Vow of poverty, remember? What you see in this cell is everything I own.” Jungkook had already noticed on his way in your lack of personal belongings. A cross hung over the bed, a small pile of religious books on the desk, a framed photo of you with your family, and little more. It was so empty and cold that anyone would’ve thought you’d just moved in. “I can’t afford to go to university, much less live on my own.”
“Well… I’ve been saving up for a while and I’m moving in an apartment with Hoseok and Tae when summer’s over. Why don’t you come stay with us? I’m sure they won’t mind!” he said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like he’d come up with the solution to all your problems. “I’ll help you find a job and you’ll be able to afford uni, easy-peasy.”
You were too sleepy to chuckle, but a faint smile did tug at your lips because of how determined he was to fix things. Things that were too broken to be fixed. “Let’s not talk about this right now, please?”
Even though Jungkook wasn’t pleased with your response, he forced a smile. “Why, did I tire you out?” Leaning in, he kissed your lips lightly. “You’re right, let’s not ruin the moment. Come here.”
He had you rest your head on his chest, and held lovingly, you fell asleep.
Understandably, he’d left by the time you woke up. If anyone saw him coming out of your cell, they might work out what he’d been up to there and the two of you would be kicked out of the convent. His scent lingered in your sheets, but it didn’t make any less disappointing waking up without him by your side. What’s more, as you put on your habit after having a quick shower, you were assailed by the most heart-breaking questions.
What if Jungkook had pretended to be your friend only to get in your pants? What if, now he’d got what he wanted, he blew you off? What if you’d risked everything for a guy who felt nothing for you?
To your immense relief, when you walked into the refectory for breakfast, he waved at you with a smile and gestured you to sit next to him. You were going to before Father Jimin suddenly appeared before you.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted warmly, as ever.
“Oh, good morning, Father!”
“I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
You blinked. “It is, why?”
Shit. He knows?
“You left the chapel in a hurry after Mass yesterday,” he said, “and you didn’t show up to the remaining services. Were you unwell?”
“Oh... Yes, I was.” If you had locked yourself up in your cell, it was for no other reason than to avoid Jungkook and digest the fact that he’d fingered you in public. You lied, “I was sick all day, but I’m fine now.”
“I’m glad,” Jimin said with a smile you returned, then grabbed your hand to surround it with both of his, like old people will. “I know this comes out of nowhere, but I’m really proud of you, Y/N. For pulling through these challenging times. Many, including myself, can only learn from your strength. I know you’ll make a great nun.”
He gave your hand a soft squeeze and left you there, frozen in your spot. It was as though your sins finally dawned on you, all of them at once. You’d really believed leaving the convent didn’t have to mean you’d betray your faith and here you were, sleeping with a guy you’d met barely a month ago without shame because that made you feel alive.
What had you done? What were you turning into?
No longer hungry, you left to go back to your cell, tears already streaming down your cheeks before you made it out of the empty hallways. Or were they empty?
“Y/N!” You ignored Jungkook’s voice and quickened your pace, too ashamed to face him. “Hey, wait up!” He sprinted to reach you, concern shaping his features when he blocked your way and realised you were crying and trying to hide it from him. One thing was telling him your troubles, another to break down like a pathetic, helpless little girl. In the most caring tone, he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You explained, told him how you felt.
“I’m letting Father Jimin down,” you sobbed. “Him, my parents, God, and everyone.”
“You’re not,” Jungkook kept repeating. “You’re in a period of discernment, right? So who says you can’t reach a conclusion by trial and error? That’s what other nuns have done too. Before they got here, yes, but it was doing things they later regretted that convinced them to become nuns.”
“I don’t regret last night,” you said in all honesty, “but I do hate that I don’t regret sinning... You just can’t understand, you’re not religious.”
Jungkook looked down. “Maybe I can’t, but if I know something it’s that if what we did made you happy, it shouldn’t be a sin.” He looked around to make sure no one else was there before cupping your wet cheeks and kissing you, every muscle in your body relaxing under his touch as he knew they would. “Now come with me and eat something.”
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He didn’t fully convince you, but your will wasn’t strong enough to resist his tempting.
For the next three weeks, you continued sleeping together at night, pretending you were no more than close friends at day. Whatever the time, Jungkook made sure to spend as much of it as possible with you, although not for a moment did you ever let yourself believe he had any feelings for you other than sexual. You weren’t even sure you wanted him to develop them, truth be told, as this thing you had was a fling. Come the end of summer less than a month from now, he’d move out and you’d start the second and final year of your novitiate, so whatever it was between you had no future.
Still, he kept writing you songs.
Some he’d sing quietly in bed so you’d fall asleep listening to his angelic voice, but the latest one, Church, he’d also asked you to come see him perform in a concert. And so, you’d lied to Father Jimin again, claiming the ancient kettle in the kitchen was broken and a new one needed to be bought. What’s a sin more to secure your one-way ticket to Hell?
Jungkook had warned you this song was not PG-13. He’d be the one singing it, not Amber, and he’d begged and begged you to wear one of his huge t-shirts to the concert with nothing underneath, refusing to tell you why. Leaving the abbey dressed as modestly as was expected of a novice, you changed outfits in the venue’s toilets. You didn’t know why you’d agreed to it but the first line of Church explained his request.
You're wearing nothing but my t-shirt Call me shallow but I'm only getting deeper, yeah Stay on the ground until your knees hurt No more praying, baby, I'ma be your preacher
He half whispered the whole verse into the microphone, all while his eyes pierced yours from the stage. You couldn’t look away either, entranced by his voice and presence. So far from where you were sat, how could he make you feel as though the air had run out in the whole venue?
And I'll keep leading you on If you keep leading me into your room The drinks are all gone But that's fine, baby, so am I
You remembered the date Jungkook had talked about taking you out on and how… standard it now sounded to you as he turned his attention to the girls who cheered for him in the audience. Was it scripted? Something he said to all of them to lead them on? The more you thought about it, the more you realised he’d never actually take you skating. No, you were just for keeping his nights busy.
His gaze found you again.
I'm about to take you back to church (back to church) Well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst? Yeah Baptise in your thighs 'til it hurts (you know it hurts) 'Cause I'm about to take you back to church (oh yeah)
I'll keep you up until the sunset Speaking in tongues, yeah, we ain't done yet (yeah) Don't take my verses out of context I know it's weighing on your conscience
Those last two lines… Further confirmation your relationship was just sex and that you shouldn’t read too much into anything he said, or feel guilty for sinning by having a friend-with-benefits. It was self-contradictory of you to feel down about him not reciprocating your feelings, but you did. Don’t they say love is irrational?
Despite how sad you’d got, the night didn’t end with the concert, but with Jungkook fucking you without restrain. When he was inside you, nothing else mattered.
You were in the back of his van, parked somewhere near the abbey yet not enough for anyone to hear the loud moans that each of his thrusts caused, even with the windows open not to melt in there.
“Fuck, keep moaning for me,” he grunted, gripping your waist to keep you in place.
“Keep fucking me, then…” Jungkook scoffed, would’ve commented on how dirty he’d turned you had he not been so close. You’d come already yourself, but were more than glad to let him go on until he did too.
“Since you’ve got such a big mouth,” he said, panting, “why don’t you put it to good use?”
It took him most of his willpower to pull out and remove his condom. You sat up and opened your mouth for him to shove his hard cock in, swirling your tongue around the tip before closing your lips tight around it and starting to bob your head to take all of him. A bit more experienced now and having learned to love sucking Jungkook, you knew exactly how he liked it done. You could feel it, his cock twitching against your tongue as you savoured it, letting you know he was going to come.
He pulled back again to jerk himself, and you began rubbing your clit, aroused again by the sight between your spread legs. “I thought you were done?”
“Yes, but you’re so hot…” you moaned, and he huffed out a laugh. Biting his lip harshly as he ogled your naked body and the way you touched yourself, it wasn’t long until he came all over your thighs, your own release following.
Jungkook smirked when he was no longer out of breath. “Dreams do come true.” He was staring at your thighs dripping with his cum and your own juices, and you realised he was talking about Church’s ‘baptise in your thighs’. You were about to smile when the rest of the song came to mind, and suddenly you didn’t feel like it anymore… Once Jungkook had cleaned you up with a cloth, he lay down next to you. “Come here.”
You always hoped he’d say that, even though he never failed to. So resting your back on his chest, he held you from behind, caressing your hands in a comfortable silence. It was then that you noticed the blank spot between the tattoos in Jungkook’s wrist. It was tiny, but seemed intentional.
“Are you not inking this bit?”
“I’m saving it for a small symbol, maybe a letter.” He kissed your temple. “Your name’s initial, what do you say?”
Your lips committed to it before your brain did. “Do you get tattoos of the others?”
Jungkook frowned. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he did. “What others?”
“The other girls you sleep with.” There was no jealousy in your casual tone, but it was still petty. Jungkook shifted so he could face you. He was indeed frowning, both perplexed and offended.
“There are no others,” he promised, serious as you’d ever seen him. “You trust me that little?”
“I didn’t think I had to trust you. Aren’t we just hooking up?”
Jungkook rubbed his eyes as if the confusion was giving him a headache. “You thought I was sleeping with other girls and said nothing?”
By what right could you ask him to be faithful in a relationship you planned to end soon? Besides, what if in doing so, you annoyed him enough to stop wanting to be friends? If sharing him with others was the only way to have him, it hurt, but you’d do it. You looked down as you whispered, kind of embarrassed, “I guess I do like you that much…”
Jungkook raised your chin with his curled index finger, made you look at him. He despised the sadness he saw in the depths of your eyes, the one you were trying to repress. “You’re much more than sex to me. I worship you and if I could, I’d spend every waking moment next to you.”
In a small pause, you tried to rack your brain. “Is that from a song?”
“No, but it should be. I’ll write it down later.” Jungkook nodded, agreeing the rhyme had potential. Still, he wasn’t going to let you change the subject. “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”
He is?  That did take you off guard.
“You shouldn’t be, I’m a novice,” you said anyway at your most hypocritical.
Jungkook sighed, “What’s so wrong about it? Don’t you love me?”
You didn’t want to lie to him. A smile made your lips stretch before you answered, “I do,” and softly, Jungkook kissed them. Every time he pulled back from a kiss, it felt like it had been too short, no matter how long it lasted. Like you needed more because you could never be sated of him. “Does this mean… we’re dating?”
“I mean, you’re technically engaged to Jesus, and I’m not a guy who likes sharing,” Jungkook joked before giving you a peck and returning to his previous position under you. “If you don’t wanna be just lovers, you’ll have to break up with him first.”
You answered nothing. Should you listen to him, though?
Around two weeks of bliss sprang from your love confessions, where it became hard to pretend you weren’t mad for each other in public, such as when he’d whisper in your ear how provocative you looked in your habit and you giggled like a schoolgirl in love—which, technically, you were. Your parents barely made it into your thoughts, as they were filled to the brim with Jungkook.
From the moment they were over, it all went downhill. Worse, it fell into an abyss.
You had just come out of class with other novices when your hand was grabbed by someone who dragged you through the hallway to head upstairs. “Sorry to steal her, sisters, it’s urgent!”
“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you asked as he led you into your cell in a rush, closing the door for privacy. “You can’t be in here during the day–”
“I’ve found a way.” Only then did you notice how excited he was, a grin across his face. “A way to pay for your university.”
His aunt had been the one to tell him, at the beginning of the summer, that he must plan ahead as an adult now that his parents had turned their back on him, but it wasn’t until he fell for you that he actually started doing that. He was sure he wanted you to be by his side on whatever path he took, for his future to merge with yours somehow.
You, however, knew this conversation would not end well. “Enlighten me.”
“Bangtan is going on a nationwide tour next year.”
“Oh my God, that’s great!” You held his hands and grinned with him. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Y/N, this means I’ll earn a lot of money.” Then, you looked away. “With what I’ve got saved up plus that, you can afford to go to uni, even a private one, and we don’t have to live with the boys, we can have a place of our own! On the road we won’t even have to sweat about that, our company will pay for everyth–”
You freed your hands from his grasp, said with a nervous laugh, “You’re going a bit fast, Jungkook…”
His grin faded. “What do you mean? Isn’t money what you need to get out of here?”
“I’m grateful you want to take care of me but I can’t leave, you know why.”
“Are you serious right now?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, your parents are gone. I know it’s hard but you have to move on, I don’t want you to wither in this place when you have a chance at happiness.”
“Just because you chose to let your parents down doesn’t mean the rest of us want to.” You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, the sound of Jungkook’s heart breaking reaching your ears. Or was it your own?
It took him some long seconds to process you’d said that, then answer, “I told you how they were to me, forgive me for not giving a shit about them.”
“Well, mine are a different story. I do care about them.”
“And not about us? We can’t be together anymore after I leave the convent. Have you not thought about that, or were you going to end things like they meant nothing? Because for weeks, I’ve been trying to find a way to have a future with you.”
“I never asked you to,” you sighed, welling up. You might not have, but a part of you had wanted to. Wanted to go with him too. “There’s no way we can have a future together.”
Jungkook teared up as well, and you hated yourself for it. He was being met with unjust meanness from the person he genuinely loved. You sucked so bad.
“What am I to you, then? What have I been these past months?”
“A distraction.”
It wasn’t a lie, and that’s what hurt the most. You loved Jungkook, and yet, you’d used him to set aside the pain of your parents’ loss and the guilt that was consuming you for being a sinner. You were always going to dispose of him like a toy outgrown, regardless of everything he’d done for you.
He stared for a while, but you couldn’t meet his eyes out of shame. “That’s good to know,” he muttered before storming out, leaving you in a puddle of tears you deserved to be drowned in.
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You trudged your way to class after a grey morning in the library. There was still no passage from any religious book that excused your countless sins and promised the salvation of your blighted soul, but that didn’t worry you so much right now. What did, was Jungkook.
He was likely avoiding you—for which you couldn’t blame him—though you doubted meeting and apologising for the ugly things you’d said would be a remedy to the damage done. Not that you didn’t mean them, but they could’ve been said with tact. Jungkook’s wicked crime was loving you, after all.
So busy were you missing something as random as his cologne that you didn’t notice until the end of the class that everyone kept stealing glances at you, whispering to each other afterwards. Even if a tired demeanour wasn’t deserving of such a disproportionate reaction, you still blamed the barely two hours of sleep you’d got for your sisters’ scandalised looks, but another novice approached you in the hallway out of pity to let you know you’d actually made the convent’s news.
You froze in your spot when she said it was because Jungkook had spread the rumour that you’d been sleeping with him.
No, please... Tell me he hasn’t.
Leaving your sister where she stood and running off to find him with the disapproving gaze of every other person you passed burning into your skin, you prayed you were inside a nightmare harder with each stride.
Jungkook couldn’t have betrayed you. Someone must have seen or heard you and put two and two together, right?
Such theory turned into dust when you saw him sat in the cloister surrounded by girls like the day you’d met, playing a melody in the guitar for their attentive ears. Somehow, you knew he’d done it then, and on purpose. You started to feel sick as you approached them, whether because of the summer heat or the knife stabbed and twisted in your back, you didn’t know.
“We need to talk.”
Jungkook didn’t bother to look up as he said, “If we were still dating, I’d totally be shaking at that sentence, Y/N.”
Some of your sisters giggled, others bit their lip not to. You went red, begged, “Please.”
Albeit reluctantly, he stood up and followed you to an empty hallway. You didn’t know whether you were more upset, scared, surprised, or disappointed, but the smell of the cologne you were missing earlier managed to calm you down a little, as Jungkook’s company tended to do. Your stupid body seemed to not have caught up on the fact that he was the cause of your hurting.
“What do you want?” he asked curtly.
“What do I want? To know how you could tell everyone about us, Jungkook, how you could do this to me. I’ll be expelled! And I don’t have parents or a family that will take me back if I go apologise to them, I have nowhere to go. Is that what you want? For me to be with you because I have no other choice?”
“Of course not, we’re done,” Jungkook assured you that wasn’t his plan, which you believed. He hated your guts, his dark eyes told you. “But now you’re not tied to a place you don’t really want to be in.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t do this out of revenge.”
“So what if I did?”
You stared at him for a while, speechless like he had the time you’d last met. “And here I thought you’d proved me wrong.”
“In what,” Jungkook asked in a scoff, “becoming a nun now that you’ve been dicked down?”
The coldness of his tone stung your heart. In disbelief, you shook your head. “No, in that there was more to you than what first meets the eye.”
A grain of shock broke through the mask of indifference Jungkook was wearing, probably because your words weren’t visibly said against your better judgement this time, but while seeing him through the same lenses as his parents did. You looked at him just like them the night they’d kicked him out, in a way he had hoped you never would.
And how could you not? You’d thought you knew him, yet he’d gone ahead and ruined your life. Maybe you never did know the real Jungkook at all, who was now too taken aback to come up with an answer before another novice approached.
“Father Jimin wants to see you, sister,” she said, after which you took a deep breath, nodded, and followed her without so much as giving Jungkook one last glance.
In his office, sat on his desk, Father Jimin was quiet. Had been so since you’d come in and sat down.
One of his elbows rested on his chair’s arm and two fingers pressed on his closed lips as he thought of what to say. You already had an idea of what it would be, and it made you no more ready, fists clutching the skirt of your lap.
“I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed in a sigh. It struck you how it was the first time in the few years you’d known Father Jimin that you didn’t see a smile on his face, or at least friendliness. He was the kind of person who always saw the best in people but right now, there was nothing good left in you. “I’m truly at a loss for words. I never thought you’d do something like this, or that I’d find out from other mouths.”
Tears blurred your sight at the memory of him telling you he was proud of you. “I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness, but I’m begging you, Father. It was the mistake of my life–”
“You broke your vows, Y/N. Defiled a holy place.” Oh… Jungkook had admitted to that as well? Chin trembling, you pressed your lips together not to cry. “Lied to me about it and God knows what else… This behaviour cannot be tolerated. You can stay in the abbey until you find a job and a place to live, but you are dismissed from this community, if not excommunicated.”
You sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore, “Father, please. I can’t let my parents down, their last wish was that I become a nun–”
“Isn’t it your wish? Were you lying about that too?” Your head lowered in shame and Father Jimin leaned back into his chair with a loud sigh. “You should have thought about your parents before getting involved with Jungkook. Be grateful they aren’t here to see you stray this bad.” He waited for you to say something, but shame kept you from it, as he was right. “You may leave now.”
Everything had happened so fast that a week later, you were still assimilating it.
Except when necessary, you barely left your cell. Dreaded both the judgemental looks of your sisters and the non-existent ones from Father Jimin, who ignored your presence whenever he had to suffer it in the chapel or the refectory. Not to mention running into Jungkook. To your knowledge, he’d been kicked out too, was sometimes seen moving boxes from his cell to his van. There wasn’t much for him to pack, so you guessed he was dragging the process. What for, you tried not to care.
That was the main reason why, helped by the yellow pages, you’d been job-hunting through the telephone. Not that it was better or worse than going in person, because nobody wanted to employ an ex-novice anyway. They literally hung up when you mentioned you’d been expelled from the convent—as expected, to be honest—but lying again was not an option. You’d learned your lesson the hard way.
Eventually, you did manage to land an interview for a job. Given it didn’t pay that well, it’d be a while until you could afford to move out of the abbey and even longer until you’d step in a university as a student, which was frustrating, but at least you didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave. Since you weren’t a novice anymore, nobody batted an eyelid at you heading outside the afternoon of your scheduled interview.
You were near the main door when, out of nowhere, Sister Daeun stopped you to talk.
“My nephew’s told me everything. I can’t say I approve of your relationship, but it does make me feel better that there was love involved. A lot, apparently,” your gaze averted to the ground, “which makes your decision to break up with him out of respect for your parents all the more admirable. It was wrong of Jungkook to make it public, he knows that, and he would like to apologise and give you the money he made this summer.”
“I couldn’t take it, sister,” you opposed. “It’s his. He needs it to pay rent, he’s moving in with Hoseok and Taehyung.”
Wait, was that why he hadn’t left yet? Because he wanted to wait until September so he didn’t have to pay for August?
“He’ll make much more when he’s on tour,” Sister Daeun insisted. “This is the least he can do for you. That I can do for you, too. You’ll always be my novice, Y/N, no matter what.” Without a second’s thought, you hugged her tightly. It was solacing to know there was at least one person who saw past your sins. “Jungkook’s gone to get the money but he won’t be here until late, Bangtan is opening for another one of those rock bands in a concert tonight. He’ll give it to you tomorrow.”
“I was just going into town, so if you tell me the name of the venue, I’ll stop by. He must be there doing a stage rehearsal.” You remembered the light in his eyes when he’d explained to you everything about the vocation he was so passionate about, how sweet his smile was… No. No. You shouldn’t feel anything after what he’d done. “I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible.”
That turned out to be yet another bad decision.
Once your interview was over, you rushed to the same venue you’d seen Jungkook perform Rock God and Church.
Paying no mind to the fans at the entrance who looked askance at you for jumping the line, the security guy let you in when he recognised you. Memories of the two nights you’d previously been there stormed you while getting backstage, especially how fast your heart had beat because of the racy lyrics of the songs and the way Jungkook had looked at you from the stage.
Now, it died inside your chest as you watched him make out with Amber at the end of the otherwise empty hallway.
He had her pinned against the wall, hands gripping her ass to press their bodies together and lips devouring hers as though he couldn’t get enough. Amber’s hands were wrapped around his neck, and she now grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull his head back and start kissing his neck. You saw how Jungkook smirked at the action, turned on by her dominance.
Both in their rockstar outfits, they looked like a perfect match, so you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been dating all along. If that boyfriend of hers Jungkook had told you about was none other than himself.
Forcing yourself out of your shock, you exited the venue through the back as quickly as you could, saving the cascade of tears that was already building up in your eyes until you were alone.
It wasn’t that you were going to forgive him and expected his apology to come with an offer to date him again, but even after everything he had done to you, you still loved him. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn't help it. You were so stupid that you wished he'd find you there, sat on the cold concrete, and just held you in his arms until you stopped crying.
The next day you slept through breakfast, and would’ve stayed in your cell until lunch had Father Jimin not summoned you to his office again.
Curiously, this time around he looked… sorry?
“I’ve been made aware of some information this morning,” he said from across his desk with a nod.
“About me?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh, God, what now?
“I can’t answer that because it has to do with a confession, but it’s made me realise I was wrong.” He leaned in, gaze moving around as he tried to think of a way not to reveal anything disclosed in the confessional box. “I should’ve been more cautious instead of welcoming just anyone into our home. Sometimes, I fail to see beyond the surface, and it results in the harm of others. A harm I pray it’s possible to heal from.”
“I don’t understand…”
“What I mean is that you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can go back to being a novice, or take as long as you need to resolve any doubts you might have. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”
“But, why, Father? The things I did– You forgive me?”
“I’ve seen you regret them even if they weren’t your fault, so yes, I do.” You frowned. “I just hope you can forgive me too.”
On your way back to your cell, you walked slowly, using all your energy to figure out what Father Jimin had been talking about. When the answer popped up in your mind, you turned around and ran through the abbey. If Jungkook had done what you thought he had… Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find him, as you almost crashed together when turning to the next hallway. Had it not been because he’d grabbed your waist in time, you would’ve fallen.
When he realised it was you, he let go and stepped back. “Y/N, I wanted to talk to y–”
“Did you tell Father Jimin you raped me?”
The question took him by surprise. “He talked to you first… Wait, I thought confessional secrecy was unbreakable?”
“He didn’t tell me, I deduced it on my own.” You crossed your arms, disappointed you were right. “Why would you do that? I can’t make sense of it.”
“It was the only way to get the abbot to take you back. It’s not like he can report me to the police, and I’m leaving anyway… I told him I made you do things and that you were scared to tell anyone.” Jungkook looked everywhere but your eyes. “I’m really sorry for outing you. It was fucking childish of me and you didn’t deserve it. I was just so mad at what you said… but I know that’s no excuse.”
A part of you wanted to apologise for that and even ask him if it was too late to start over, but another reminded you of what you saw last night and stopped you, along with the one that should hold the most weight—your parents. It was a miracle you’d been given back the chance to honour their wishes, so you couldn’t ruin it again.
“I also wanted to give you this.” Jungkook handed you an old school bag. “My aunt told you what’s inside, right? She mentioned earlier you were going to come pick it up yesterday at the venue.”
“Yes, I forgot…” you lied. “I was at a job interview and got out quite late.”
“That’s okay. Did it go well?” He shouldn’t have asked, it was none of his business anymore. The interest in you had just rolled out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“It did, actually.” Both of you knew that if you went back to being a novice, you couldn’t take the job, but neither addressed it.
“Swell.” Jungkook put his hands inside his pockets, looked at you like he wanted to say much more. “I hope you have a happy life, Y/N. I really do.”
“Wait, are you saying goodbye? You’re leaving now?”
So soon?
“Yeah, poor Father Jimin thinks I’m… Well, you know. I wouldn’t want someone like me around you girls either. Plus, it’s September today, summer’s over,” he said with a forced smile. “Hoseok and Tae are waiting for me in the van. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Before he could leave, you walked closer and gave him a hug. It didn’t feel right even when he wrapped his arms tight around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, what with everything left unsaid, but you needed to feel his warmth one last time.
“Goodbye, Jungkook. And happy birthday.”
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Two years later
“You’ll like Bangtan, they’re wicked hot,” Chloe said for the third time, rather trying to convince herself than you, as she knew rock wasn’t your type of music. “Especially Taehyung, he’s my favourite!”
The concert was supposed to start soon, so hugging yourself and rubbing your arms, you stood on your tiptoes to check if the long queue ahead was moving any faster. “Well, I’m glad they’re hot, ‘cause I’m freezing.”
She, Chloe, was a friend you’d made on the first day of university. Lots had changed.
“It won’t be long now, get the tickets ready,” she gave you something to do, to forget about the February cold.
As she’d promised, it took less than five minutes for the two of you to enter the biggest venue in town. Such was the fame of Bangtan now. You were only glad the security guy from the other times wasn’t there to recognise you, since Chloe was unaware of your past as a groupie. It wasn’t that you were keeping it from her… You just didn’t feel like talking about him.
“Come on,” she grinned while grabbing your hand, all excited, “let’s get close to the stage!”
The concert lasted what felt like an eternity.
Not only did you have to endure Rock God and Church again, which opened the wound of a relationship you still hadn’t healed from, but you also had to keep your head down so as to not be spotted by the band members.
It was going alright, though, until you made the mistake of glancing up, and saw him. And he saw you.
Minus the fact that he wasn’t a blond anymore, Jungkook looked the same as always. Not that that was a bad thing. Whether in his rockstar outfit or covered in goat milk, he took your breath away. He skipped a few notes due to the shock of seeing you in the crowd but as the professional he was, he managed to make his faltering almost unnoticeable and keep playing the guitar like nothing had happened. But he wouldn’t lose you out of sight.
You wanted to look away, leave, even, but found you couldn’t, like Jungkook had put a spell on you. A spell that only broke once Bangtan thanked their fans for coming and left the stage.
Chloe, who’d been cheering throughout the whole show, now went on about how amazing it had been, how hot Taehyung had looked. Not really listening, you automatically nodded to everything until you heard, “Let’s go to the toilets before a line forms, I really need to pee.”
“Sure.”
You held her purse while you waited outside, recalling how Father Jimin had warned you seeing Jungkook again would only make your wound sting—to which you’d agreed! The only reason you were there was because you’d promised Chloe. Chloe, who was taking so long.
With a sigh, your eyes neglected that random spot on the floor they’d been fixed on and flew around to end up on those of Jungkook, who was walking towards you. The few people in the line to use the toilets gasped and watched their idol, but he didn’t care, walked past them like they didn’t exist. You, weren’t sure what to feel when he was finally in front of you.
“Hi,” he said with a faint smile that you returned rather awkwardly, given the fact everyone was looking at you. “Can we talk… in private?”
Every cell of your body told you to decline, that Jungkook was a book you shouldn’t pick up again even to leaf through, but your head nodded on its own accord. Hope you don’t mind, Chloe.
It was upstairs to the now deserted first floor he led you, and the balcony of which you stood next by, where you could see the few people left heading out. They didn’t hold your attention for longer than a second, though.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jungkook spoke almost shyly, yet his eyes didn’t leave your face until he forced them to, not to weird you out. How long had he been staring like that? But you looked so pretty...
“I’m here with a friend from uni, she’s a fan.”
He didn’t understand. “Wait, you ended up leaving the convent?”
“I did finish my novitiate but I never took the vows. They let me live there, though.”
It wasn’t a decision you made overnight, obviously, and one Father Jimin and Sister Daeun worked hard for many months to make you see it wouldn’t have upset your parents as much as you believed, much less get them to stop loving you. In fact, you were still coming to terms with it, not entirely free of guilt, but a mix of secular and spiritual life was proving to be exactly what you needed.
The university and the abbey, parties and Mass, your new friends and your family… You could have both and save your soul from damnation. Now, could you save your heart from breaking all over again? It felt like it already was, physically so close to Jungkook yet so far that an uncomfortable silence had fallen between you.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
You looked at him. Cut to the chase, alright… “I’m not. A-Are you?”
Was that a sigh of relief he let out through his parted lips, or did you just want it to be? “No.”
“I thought you’d be dating Amber.” Jungkook frowned slightly, so you went on and confessed, “I saw you together the night before you left. I came to pick up the money and… Well, none of that matters now.”
Horror painted Jungkook’s face. That was how you’d remembered him? Getting off with Amber?
“She’d just broken up with her boyfriend,” he wasted no time in saying. “Neither of us was thinking clearly. It was a one-time thing, an adrenaline rush after a concert.”
You hugged yourself, lips pressing together at the details you didn’t want to hear. “You don’t need to explain, we weren’t dating anymore…”
“Fuck, I’m sorry that you’ve thought all this time that I was with her,” Jungkook apologised anyway, gaze falling to the floor in shame. “Actually, I know that it doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry about a lot of things.”
“Yeah, I wish it did. Count… Or better yet, I wish I’d gone with you,” you laughed, at the fact that you meant it.
“What?” Jungkook took a step closer, as though he’d misheard and wanted to make sure he got it this time. Suddenly, you realised what an idiot you were being.
“Nothing, forget it.” You turned around to leave before the lump in your throat summoned any tears, but Jungkook took your hand to stop you. He couldn’t let you go, even if he’d been the one to leave last time.
“I’m glad you didn’t come with me, Y/N, and that you got to do what you wanted. But I do wish I hadn’t ruined everything and hurt you. If I could go back, I'd punch me in the face.”
It didn’t mean you’d forgotten, but the truth was that you’d forgiven what he did a while ago. After all, “I was also a dick to you.”
“If you’re a dick, then I like dick.”
Actually, you hated him.
You hated even more that that made you laugh but it was because of Jungkook’s clownery that you first fell for him. And you’d never stopped loving him. He smiled fondly, caressing your hand. On his wrist, where there used to be a small uninked spot, now was your name’s initial. Neither had he, it seemed.
“Does this mean you want us to…?”
His eyes opened wide, feigning scandal. “What, here? I’d sooner do it in a chapel.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling. “How about we start with a date? Say... Friday at 5pm? I know a good roller-skating rink.”
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⇢ drabble: faith
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tieflingkisser · 12 days
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Kansas City Chiefs Kicker Tells Graduating Women to Get in the Kitchen
“I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother," Harrison Butker said in a commencement speech.
Harrison Butker, a kicker for the Kansas City Chiefs, on Sunday addressed the graduating class of Benedictine College, the Catholic liberal arts school known for forcing a queer-identifying basketball player to remove a Pride flag from his dorm. The 28-year-old spent his allotted 20 minutes encouraging students to denounce “dangerous gender ideologies,” and “the tyranny of diversity, equity and inclusion.” Bold of a man who’s only six years older than the average graduating student and identifies as “@buttkicker7″ on Twitter to tell young people how to live their lives but what else is new? “I think it is you, the women, who have had the most diabolic lies told to you,” Butker said. “Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world but I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world.” In a country where forced birth is the law of the land? Nothing gets a 22-year-old who’s just shelled out $34k a year on tuition more hyped than the notion of the certificates in their hands collecting dust in lieu of caring for screaming kids. “I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother,” Butker went on. (Why let your wife speak for yourself when you, a man, could speak for her, eh?) “I’m on this stage today, able to be the man that I am, because I have a wife who leans into her vocation.” You reading this Sheryl Sandberg? Insurrection Ken gets to kick a ball over and over again because his wife leaned in. Butker continued—whilst choking up, I might add—saying, “I’m beyond blessed with the many talents God has given me, but it cannot be overstated that all my success is made possible because a girl I met in band class back in middle school would convert to the faith, become my wife, and embrace one of the most important titles of all: homemaker.” Not to be dramatic, but I’d rather be dead than hear that my entire existence was reduced to the key that unlocked a man’s potential. Considering the school’s tenets and reputation, Butker’s remarks were not particularly surprising, and it wasn’t like he was booed off the stage. Regardless, I’m not a praying person, but I am most certainly having a word with the big they upstairs about this man’s downfall before bed tonight.
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katz-chow · 9 months
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Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..
WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓
relationship with soap headcanons
warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad
a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))
childhood hcs
johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.
growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.
his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol
elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age
9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much
after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings
his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"
she makes a killer shepherd's pie though
always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.
he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.
he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet
at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"
blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family
his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?
it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half 😔
johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner
broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)
had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug
he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her
he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day
he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”
was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door
wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.
got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭
laugh at that guys, mf was 15
personality & relationship hcs
johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”
such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit
this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.
he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye
he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep
feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep
speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)
i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper
one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out
johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.
his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.
whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble
number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.
feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full
when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.
he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible
he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore
causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside
not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up
but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you
the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)
he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are
he wants 4 kids by the way
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scotianostra · 4 months
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IT'S A PURE DEAD GIVE-AWAY THAT YOU'RE SCOTTISH IF :-
1. You consider scattered showers with outbreaks of sunshine 🌞 as good weather.
2. The only sausage you like is square.
3. You were forced to do Scottish country dancing 🕺🏻
every year at secondary school.
4. You have a wide vocabulary of Scottish words such as numpty, aye, aye right, auldyin, baltic...
5. You destroyed your teeth when you were young using Buchanan's toffee, Wham bars, Penny Dainties, MB Bars, Cola Cubes etc
6. You have an enormous feeling of dread whenever Scotland play a 'numpty' team like the Faroe Islands.
7. You happily engage in a conversation about the weather with someone you've never met before.
8. Even if you normally hate the Proclaimers, Runrig, Caledonia , Deacon Blue and Big Country, you still love it when you're in a club abroad and they play something Scottish.
9. You used to watch Glen Michael's Cavalcade on a Sunday afternoon with his side kick Lamp Paladin.
10. You got Oor Wullie and The Broons annuals at Xmas.
11. You can tell where another Scot is from by their accent - "Awright, pal, gonnae gies a wee swatch oa yur Sun ? Cheers, magic pal." Or "Fit ya bin up tae ? Fair few quines in the nicht, eh ?", etc
12. You see cops and hear someone shout 'Errapolis'.
13. You have participated in or watched people having a 'square go'.
14. You know that when someone asks you what school you went to they only want to know if you are catholic or protestant.
15. You have eaten lots and lots of random Scottish food like mince 'n tatties, Tunnock's Caramel Logs, oat cakes, haggis, Cullen skink, Lees Macaroon Bars, etc.
16. A jakey has asked you for money.
17. You think nothing of waiting expectantly for your 1p change from a shop keeper.
18. You know the right response to 'Ye dancing ?' is 'Y'askin?' followed by 'Ahm askin' and finally 'Then ahm dancin'. 💃
19. Whenever you see sawdust it reminds you of pools of vomit as that's what the jannies used to chuck on it at school.
20. You lose all respect for a groom 🤵 who doesn't wear a kilt.
21. You don't do 🛒 shopping ... you 'go the messages'.
22. You're sitting on the train 🚂 or bus and a 😵 drunk man sits next to you telling you a joke - and asking 'Ahm no annoying ye ahm a?' and you respond 'Naw, not at a', yer fine. This is ma stoap, but'. 🛑
23. You can have an entire phone 📞 conversation using only the words 'awright', 'aye' and 'naw'.
24. You have experienced peer pressure to have an alcoholic drink 🍷 when out - regardless of the circumstances.
25. You know that ye cannae fling yer pieces 🍞 oot a 20 storey flat, and that seven hundred hungry weans'll testify tae that. Furthermore you're sure that if it's butter, 🧀 cheese or jeely, or if the breid is plain or pan, the odds against it reaching earth are 99 tae wan.
26. You know that going to a party 🥳 at a friend's house involves bringing your own drink.
27. Your holiday abroad is ruined if you hear there is a heatwave in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 while you're away.
28. Your national team goes 2-0 up again the Czechs in a qualifier in Prague and your mate says we'll end up losing 3-2 here and you think "Probably". ⚽️
29. You can properly pronounce McConnochie, Ecclefechan, Milngavie, and Auchtermuchty.
30. Your favourite pizza is deep fried and battered from the chippy.
31. You're used to 4 💨 ☔️ ☀️ ❄️ seasons in one day.
32. You can't pass a chip shop or kebab shop, without drooling, when your 🥴 drunk.
33. You can fall about 😵 drunk without spilling your drink.
34. You measure distance in minutes.
35. You can understand Rab C Nesbitt and know characters just like them in your own family.
36. You go to Saltcoats because you think it's like being at the ocean.
🌊
37. You can make a whole sentence out of just swear words.
38. You know what haggis is made with and still eat it.
39. Somebody you know used a football 🥅 schedule to plan their 💒 day date.
40. You've been at a 👰 🎩 wedding where the footie results were read out.
41. You aren't surprised to find curries, pizzas 🍕 kebabs, Irn Bru, nappies and fags all for sale in one shop.
42. Your seaside holiday home has Calor ⛽️ gas under it.
43. You know that Irn Bru is an infallible hangover 😵 cure.
44. You understand all the above and are going to send it to your pals.
45. and, finally, you are 100 per cent Scottish if you have ever used these terms - "How's it hingin'?", "clatty", "boggin", "cludgie", "dreich", "bampot", and "dubble nugget"..
😂🕺🏻🥳
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Quarter Finals - Catholic Character Tournament
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Propaganda below ⬇️
Sister Michael
She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.
joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?
she does love a good statue it has to be said
She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3
sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.
Mac McDonald
Ok SO. First off, he’s said on at least one occasion that he considers Paddy’s Pub to be an Irish catholic bar (it is not). His religion plays a huge part in his character- it shapes a lot of his motivations and is the driving force behind a lot of his character arc. He spends a lot of time trying to reconcile his faith and his sexuality, and spends literally seasons (years in the show) doing that. In season 15, he literally almost became a priest. We see him go to confession and it’s canon that he goes regularly. In Mac day (a day where he got to choose what the gang did) he based the day around the Bible and lectured his friends.
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girljeremystrong · 2 years
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*books with great love stories and plots that don’t just revolve around them.
SORROW AND BLISS by Meg Mason
Martha’s marriage is falling apart, because there’s something wrong with her but nobody has been able to tell her what. We go back in time to relive all the ups and downs of Martha and Patrick’s relationship to find out if they can make it out together. Beautiful story about mental health and love and family.
TOMORROW AND TOMORROW AND TOMORROW by Gabrielle Zevin
Sadie and Sam love each other but are never lovers and we follow their journey for 30 years, from Boston to California as they develop together a video game and a complicated personal relationship. Very fun book about gaming and being best friends who are often in love with each other and often very mad at each other.
UNLIKELY ANIMALS by Annie Hartnett
Emma flies home from California to New Hampshire as a Med school dropout when her dad is diagnosed with a brain disease. At home her parents are in a fight, her brother is just out of rehab and her childhood best friend is missing. She scrambles to find her feet and pull everyone together. This is such a CUTE, heart lifting book with great characters and GHOSTS.
NEVER LET ME GO by Kazuo Ishiguro
Kathy, Tommy and Ruth are three best friend who have grown up in an English boarding school. But throughout their childhood many things felt wrong and as they grow and leave school they realize just how many secrets were kept from them. It’s a love story! It’s a mystery! It’s a critique of human arrogance!
NO LAND TO LIGHT ON by Yara Zghaeib
Hadi and Sama are a Syrian couple living in the USA. As they are waiting for the birth of their son, Hadi leaves to visit his family and then their lives are uprooted by a travel ban. Sama and Hadi are forced apart and as the physical and emotional distance between them grows, they try to find their way back to each other. This is a pretty sad one, I can’t lie, but such a beautiful story.
YOUNG MUNGO by Douglas Stuart
Mungo meets James in their housing estate in Glasgow. They are young and lonely, they become friends and they fall in love. Unfortunately Mungo is a Protestant and James is a Catholic, and where they’re from these things matter, especially to Mungo’s brother, a violent gang leader. This is not a very happy book either but it is THE best story about being young and falling in love. PLEASE READ THIS. Then come talk to me about it.
REAL LIFE by Brandon Taylor
Wallace is working toward a degree in the Midwest. But he’s Black and he’s queer and he feels distance between himself and his colleagues. We follow him through a summer weekend he spends with his college friends, finding out truths about them and about himself. I will never tire of recommending this book. It’s just so interesting and well written. And lovely words about the start of a relationship.
THE NIGHT CIRCUS by Erin Morgenstern
There is a circus that arrives without warning and is only open at night. Behind the scenes two magicians, Celia and Marco, are involved in a duel they’ve been training for since childhood. But despite all that, they fall in love. This is a fantasy novel that will for sure appeal to any fans of the genre. It’s fun and the aesthetics are sublime.
OPEN WATER by Caleb Azumah Nelson
Two young people meet at a pub in South East London. Both are Black British, both won scholarships to private schools where they struggled to belong, both are now artists - he a photographer, she a dancer - trying to make their mark in a city that by turns celebrates and rejects them. Tentatively, tenderly, they fall in love. So beautiful, so well written. Reads like falling in love feels like. LOVE IT.
SWIMMING IN THE DARK by Tomasz Jedrowski
Set in early 1980s Poland against the violent decline of communism, a tender and passionate story of first love between two young men who eventually find themselves on opposite sides of the political divide. It’s beautiful and poetic and quite sad. Stunning characters, stunning descriptions.
LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB by Malinda Lo
Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can’t remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club. This is so SWEET. Lily is such a great character and her story fills your heart with pain and glee and pride. I love this book and this wonderful story.
EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM WILL SOMEDAY BE DEAD by Emily R. Austin
Gilda, a twenty-something lesbian, cannot stop ruminating about death. Desperate for relief from her panicky mind and alienated from her repressive family, she responds to a flyer for free therapy at a local Catholic church, and finds herself  abruptly hired as a receptionist. Through all of this she finds a girlfriend. And it’s sweet and slow and lovely.
THE PROPHETS by Robert Jones Jr.
A novel about the forbidden union between two enslaved young men on a Deep South plantation. Isaiah was Samuel’s and Samuel was Isaiah’s. That was the way it was since the beginning, and the way it was to be until the end. Goes without saying, this is a sad story that will make you cry and will make you angry. But it is so so beautiful.
YOLK by Mary H.K.Choi
Jayne and June are two sisters living in New York after growing up in Texas. Jayne is struggling through fashion school, while her sister has a hot shot job in finance and a big apartment. They are sort-of estranged until June is diagnosed with cancer. The first love story in this book is between the sisters, but there is a budding romance for Jayne that is so sweet. This is a sweet book. I love it.
EARLY MORNING RISER by Katherine Heiny
Jane falls in love with Duncan easily. He is charming, good-natured, and handsome but unfortunately, he has also slept with nearly every woman in Boyne City, Michigan. A wise, bighearted, boundlessly joyful novel of love, disaster, and unconventional family. This feels like Gilmore Girls but better.
A TIP FOR THE HANGMAN by Allison Epstein
Christopher Marlowe, a brilliant aspiring playwright, is pulled into the duplicitous world of international espionage on behalf of Queen Elizabeth I. I also will never tire of recommending this novel about stupid Kit Marlowe becoming a spy while crushing hard on his best friend. It’s just so fun and so good.
THE BAD MUSLIM DISCOUNT by Syed M. Masood
It is 1995, and Anvar Faris is a restless, rebellious Pakistani boy whose family moves to start life over in California. At the same time, Safwa, a young girl suffocating in war-torn Baghdad with her grief-stricken, conservative father will find a very different and far more dangerous path to America. The fates of two remarkably different people intertwine and set off a series of events. It’s very good, the characters are great and the relationship is very realistic.
THE STORIED LIFE OF A.J. FIKRY by Gabrielle Zevin
A. J. Fikry is cynical but lovable. His wife has died and his bookstore is experiencing the worst sales in its history. Slowly but surely, he is isolating himself from all the people of Alice Island. But there’s Amelia, the lovely and idealistic (if eccentric) Knightley Press sales rep who keeps on taking the ferry over to Alice Island. Such a lovely book. Lovely and heatwarming with amazing characters and unpredictable plot.
WRITERS & LOVERS by Lily King
Blindsided by her mother's sudden death, and wrecked by a recent love affair, Casey Peabody has arrived in Massachusetts in the summer of 1997 without a plan. She waits tables in Harvard Square and rents a tiny, moldy room at the side of a garage where she works on the novel she's been writing for six years. When she falls for two very different men at the same time, her world fractures even more. Again this is just a lovely book. About love and grief and being lost.
AN AMERICAN MARRIAGE by Tayari Jones
Newlyweds Celestial and Roy are the embodiment of both the American Dream and the New South. He is a young executive, and she is an artist. But as they settle into the routine of their life together, they are ripped apart by circumstances. Roy is arrested and sentenced to twelve years for a crime Celestial knows he didn’t commit. BEAUTIFUL. Just masterful work. Will make you cry like a baby.
THE SONG OF ACHILLES by Madeline Miller
Achilles, "the best of all the Greeks," son of the cruel sea goddess Thetis and the legendary king Peleus, is strong and beautiful. Patroclus is an awkward young prince, exiled from his homeland. Brought together by chance, they forge an inseparable bond, despite risking the gods' wrath. I mean I like this. It’s poetic and romantic and it’s a classic story. Had to make the list...
TOM LAKE by Ann Patchett
Set during the pandemic when the main character and her three daughters are quarantining in their farm. The daughters get their mum to tell them the story of how she fell for and dated a famous actor while putting on a play in her 20s. VERY SWEET AND SPECIAL and also ann patchett can do no wrong!!!!
SIRENS & MUSES by Antonia Angress
The story of two very different girls who meet in art school. Lots going on in this book but it's all very poetic and interesting and the two main characters go through a lot but also like each other a lot.
IN MEMORIAM by Alice Winn
About two boys who meet in boarding school and then join war world I. It is insanely sad and it's a book about the war and about young people meeting terrible fates, but very romantic and they keep sending letters that are heartbreaking and they really love each other.
THE LATE AMERICANS by Brandon Taylor
About a group of friends and acquaintances who are all young and fucked up and all in different weird relationships but it's very interesting and Brandon Taylor also can do no wrong!!!!
TIN MAN by Sarah Winman
About two boys who meet in their youth and fall in love but then suddenly there's a time jump and it's been years and one of them is married to somebody else and the other one is nowhere to be found. Sad but also very special and definitely a book that is all about love.
LESS by Andrew Sean Greer
Pulitzer prize winning book about a novelist who receives an invitation to his ex boyfriend's wedding and is heartbroken so, suddenly, he finds himself coping by going on a world tour. It's funny and sweet and has a happy ending.
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shalotttower · 6 months
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Bound
Title: Bound
Fandom: Far Cry 5
Summary: It's been two months since you ended up in a bunker with Joseph Seed.
Word count: 1300+
Characters: Joseph Seed x Reader (female)
Notes: Bunker ending, soft (?) yandere Joseph Seed, forced proximity (non-sexual), character study, power imbalance.
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What baffles you most is the conviction with which Joseph speaks of his beliefs. As someone who is used to doubt a lot of things and subject them to the most stringent analyses, it's astounding, and not in a good way.
It's not that you think the possibility of a superior, omnipresent, all-seeing being, capable of making miracles and influencing the lives of all men, is something unlikely or impossible. You simply don't think such a deity, if one existed, would waste time granting an individual the unique ability to hear their voice. And if you know something about god after a few years of Catholic school back when you were a kid, is that kidnappings, torture and mass conditioning are not on the list of virtues.
Joseph is eccentric. Even by cult leader standards. And the more he speaks, the more you want to bury your head under the pillow or chew on the bedframe until he stops. The problem is that Joseph doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. He's been talking for about an hour already; a little bit of the Testaments, a whole lot of the Book of Revelation.
Your bed isn't exactly comfortable and the springs dig painfully into the small of your back, but at least it has clean bedsheets. It's the only one in the bunker; there're two more in the medical room, but Joseph is keeping the keys from it somewhere only he knows. Every time the topic of sleeping arrangements comes up, he reiterates over and over, like one of those broken tapes, that you're sharing. "God provides" and "the Voice is benevolent" and the bunker is "prepared for the future family of Eden". You do your best not to think about the latter. The fact that you're stuck with him for the next...how long in fact? Four years, five, six? It's enough alone.
"You're not listening," he says suddenly, startling you.
"I am," you lie.
"You're not."
"I am," you continue, knowing well that you'll never win this argument.
He sighs, like you're a student who refuses to learn despite all his efforts. "What was the last thing I said?"
You shrug, and he sighs again.
"Please, child," he says, placing his book on the bedside table. He always does that, uses the word like it's a term of endearment, not a mark of his condescension. You want to object. You have a name. And you're as far from a child as you could possibly be: a grown woman with a mortgage (which doesn't matter now) and a stable job (that doesn't exist anymore), and friends (you don't know what happened to them). You don't tell him that though. If there's one thing you're sure of, it's that arguing with him is a waste of breath.
"The Flood," you say reluctantly. Joseph nods, satisfied, and you roll your eyes.
He likes monologuing. Back when you were cuffed to the frame, in the very beginning of this mess, he'd sit by your side and quote scripture or recount the events from his life; and you had to listen, because there was nothing else to do. At least now you can walk around, though it still doesn't stop him from pestering you whenever he pleases. There isn't a single spot where you could be completely alone — he hovers behind you like a shadow wherever you go. Sometimes it feels like Joseph Seed is everywhere: in every crevice of the bunker; on each surface; seeping through cracks; crawling up your skin, unavoidable, suffocating.
You wonder what will happen first — you going insane or the nuclear winter ceasing outside. Or maybe Joseph will run out of his formidable patience and finally snap your neck. You doubt the latter though. Joseph Seed seems unfazed by everything: insults, threats, pleas, curses, silence. He strokes your hair when you're not on your best days or holds your hands while walking down to the kitchen area, like he genuinely cares about you, or believes that he does. His hands are calloused and stronger than they look, much stronger, in fact; they hold you firmly by arms to keep you still when you try to wriggle out of his embrace during the night, and they also tighten painfully on your wrist whenever you attempt to leave his lectures before he allows you.
"Are you done?" You ask, interrupting Joseph mid-sentence. "I need to pee."
He pauses, looking at you for another minute before closing his book. That's something he does too during these sessions: makes you wait until he grants permission for even the most basic things like relieving yourself.
"Yes," he answers after a prolonged moment of contemplation. "It doesn't look like you're paying attention anyway."
You stand up, ignoring this comment. Joseph follows you with his gaze as you cross the room and disappear behind the door. You wish the bathroom had a lock at least — there's none, he says that seclusion breeds danger, probably cautious of suicide attempts. He has decency not to follow you in though. At least in that regard, Joseph respects your privacy, even though the concept is probably foreign to him.
You despise it so damn much: his presence, his touch, your forced proximity and those cold, piercing blue eyes. Joseph Seed unsettles you on a deep level — there's something fundamentally off about him, something you can't put your finger on from the start, but it's there, in the way he stares without blinking; in how calm and collected he remains even when you scream and kick when he just can't fucking get it and give you a moment to breathe. Joseph is unnerving, and his voice...his goddamn voice now haunts you whenever you're not with him, even here, in the bathroom.
And you think Joseph knows it. Of course, he does. It's written on your face, clear as day. He is perceptive like that, observant like few other people you know. But it doesn't deter him. He sees through the wariness that permeates your whole being, straight to your heart where he's nestled comfortably already, making himself a permanent fixture. Joseph Seed isn't going anywhere. You're both stuck here together until the very end of it.
You wash your hands afterward and glance at your reflection in the mirror above the sink. A pale face greets you in response — it hasn't seen sunlight for almost two months. Your skin feels dry no matter how many times you massage the ointment Joseph brought from the storage in it. There are bags under your eyes too. You wish he didn't care at all. Just let you be.
"Are you hungry?" Joseph asks, when you step out of the bathroom. You shake your head; there're some food leftovers from lunch, but you aren't in the mood for eating. He frowns slightly. "Child..."
"Don't call me that," you snap. You're tired of it, and feel like the period which has been absent during the first month will soon catch up on you. "I have a name."
"I am aware," he answers slowly. Joseph tilts his head to the side, considering you for a minute or two. Then, with measured steps like one would come to a frightened animal, he approaches and reaches out with his hand. The touch is soft, careful; it sends shivers down your spine and you try to retreat, Joseph catches you with ease, pulling you closer. His arm wraps around your waist in a gesture that's supposed to be soothing. Well, it's not. You struggle to get free, but he is stronger, despite his lean build.
"Let go," you protest weakly. Joseph hushes you and puts his chin on top of your head. You don't want him so close, it also frightens you how fast his touch grows familiar, as well as this sense of false security. Like he's putting a blanket over your eyes. His hand stokes your back, up, down, repeat.
"God sends us trials," he murmurs into the top of your head. "We must endure them. And I'll be here to help you bear this burden."
You want to gag, but swallow instead.
"I'll make some soup," Joseph adds after another moment of prolonged silence. He lets you go finally and retreats to the kitchen area with unhurried steps.
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