#those damn pastors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satoruhour · 11 months ago

Note

If you don’t mind (tho ofc you don’t have to write it if you don’t wish to), could we get a pt 2 of that priest geto fic? Where him and reader have been secretly fucking every damn where but especially in the church ever since that night, they both realise they have a thing for breeding kink so they don’t bother with protection either. Obv they have to hide what they’re doing and reader secretly gets away from her house at night to get dicked down frequently. and he knocks her up so they ultimately run away together ( or somewhere along those lines it’s totally up to you)

We missed you!! So good to have you back :D

DOMINE DIRIGE NOS !

wc: 7.8k (when will the horrors stop) / first part here ✶

warnings: DARK CONTENT, LORE, priest!geto, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, geto in late 20s), christian references, religious themes used in inappropriate ways, questions of religion and life, brief mention of abortion, described scenes of f! and m! masturbation, face-sitting, fingering, clit stimulation, both f! and m! receiving oral, praise, mild degradation, sex in a religious place, semi-public sex (blowjob while geto is conducting mass oop), deep-throating, lots of unprotected p -> v sex, LOTS of creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, abandoning home, n*sfw under the cut

“father geto?” you curl deeper into geto’s back in the rectory, the uncomfortable mattress below you just reminding you of your upbringing in this suffocating town and the proximity of everyone. since that night, the two of you have been insatiable, using the House of the Lord for anything holy and instead are filled with violent moans and constant skin-slapping. even to you, the Church has started to look darker and darker, painted with the sin of Pandæmonium’s pillars, each time you enter it.

mass is all about locking eyes with the other, a game to see who falls first. sometimes you’d come in the shortest dress you can find, staring up at him from the second pew from under your eyelashes just like how you’d suck his cock. sometimes father geto would have his hair tied up, revealing his neck and jawline — the priest had not much to experiment with, but it took equal effect on you, anyway. clenched thighs, stuttered words, fluttering eyes.

father geto fortunately finds it easier to evade parishioners after doing his morning greetings to everyone; with another older priest who didn’t request the rectory, he could hide away to stroke at his cock all he wanted while the other took over the later masses. you, however, needed to reject the holy pastor ever so often to stop your mother from thinking vile of your absence.

it still was father geto, though, so whenever you mentioned his name after morning mass, she lit up like a switchboard, happily ushering you away to spend time because it was always encouraged to improve your faith.

— improving your faith in a non-existing god, perhaps.

“you don’t have to call me father when we’re alone, baby,” geto reassured, accommodating you when you turned around to meet him halfway.

“yeah?” you whisper, like someone could hear you. it was taboo, shameful even. the neighbourhood good girl with a deadbeat father coalescing with the newly transferred priest — it was the blasphemous, sent to be burnt at the pyre sort of sin. the rectory felt odd, your house felt odd; there was no place for people like the two of you, driven by lust and forbidden love and sin in the eyes of God, but what could people do when sin just felt so right?

you relish in the father’s gasp when you grind your butt against his crotch which are concealed behind his trousers, biting your lip with a smile when you catch his small grin at your mischief. you continue your ministrations, rolling your hips and bringing his hands to your chest. your clothing has become shorter and shorter ever since you convinced him of your little sin back in the confessional booth of skimpy tops and skirts. geto takes over, fingers slipping under your camisole to pull down your bra, fondling with your tits and playing with your nipples.

“sneaky little baby, hm?”

“s-suguru—” you whine, hips bucking and cunt already clenching. “need your cock, tongue, anything—”

“i’m getting there, doll, wait for me,” he pants, hurriedly unzipping his trousers. his erection is pulsing and throbbing by now, letting out a small sigh of relief when he finally pulls down his underwear, but you’re confused when you’re turned around and before you can reach to sit yourself on him—

“sit on my face first, darling,” he slyly smiles, beckoning you forward. here, father geto suguru looks anything like a pastor and if you close your eyes and listen, the repetitive tweets of the morning mass birds sound a little sweeter and the rushing water of the stream nearby remind you of a countryside house far away from your parents, your faith, your life. but forbidden has a time limit without the luxury of listening in, so you only settle for a pout when you hear the slick noises of him pumping his cock.

“you did say tongue,” he grins, “i don’t disobey scripture.”

“i’m not the Bible, suguru,” you jest with a small smile.

“you are scripture to me — anything you say and do, i’ll follow.”

and that’s the first time it’s truly cemented in you how much father geto was truly willing to throw away, but you hardly have any time to react before he easily settles one leg over and pulls you toward his mouth. it’s so violent, the way he loves you that there’s a small hmph that sounds from his throat when your sweet, wet pussy meets his mouth. after, it’s just endless groans as he laps at your clit while you fill the rectory with your sinful moans, grinding your hips into his mouth over and over while he just hums in agreement.

“that— that’s it, useme, useme—” it comes out slurred and slippery, just like your dripping cunt and his leaking cock, wet sounds that surround the both of you as geto’s tongue continue to assault your sensitive clit. he licks and sucks endlessly that you have no choice but to grab onto his hair for support and he does to same to both your thighs.

“father suguru—! hnfuck . .” you whimper out, looking down at him with hooded eyes while he meets you with the same intensity. below you are just streams and streams of your juices flooding his chin and hair; he just ever so lightly dips his tongue down to your needy cunt, plunging it in and your back arches involuntarily, “o-oh, god!”

geto laughs into your pussy, arm still clutching your thigh but the other goes back to his neglected dick, pumping it in time with his tongue as he swirls it around and you just clutch tighter and tighter. you definitely soaked through the sheets by now, but you follow his command, riding his face over and over until you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

“su— suguru, i’m g’nna . .” you moan out quietly, but your priest already knows what’s in store for him, abandoning his own ministrations entirely to please you as he pulls you all the way up to his face, positively cutting off his air supply in the process but he doesn’t care. he only suckles on your clit harder and with more pressure before switching to licking, abusing your puffy clit until you’re speechless and all that comes out of you are ah’s. “cumming, cumming— fuuckk . . !”

“cum on my tongue,” suguru manages to get out in between breaths, “give me all y’r cum, darling.”

those words are enough to send you over the edge, hitting your high with a soundless whine as your hips roll into his face and relentless torture, body continuing to convulse in his hold at the climax. if, before your continued praises sung God, now they were just full of father geto’s name, enunciated through the lips like a passionate blessing before mealtime. suguru, suguru, suguru, even Lucifer was ready to make ready his throne for the both of you.

“shit— sweet as always . .” father geto moans, slurping up all of your cum and making a mess, so much so that you’re giggling shyly at the lewd noises. you rest upon his heaving chest, noting wet patches that stain his black shirt — he came as well. “you treat me so good, don’t you, doll?”

your face twists, “i think i should be the one to say that, father geto.”

“don’t—”

“i like it. rolls off the tongue nicely,” you smirk, easily scooting downwards before settling your pulsing cunt onto his softening cock. but he knows you can get him up at any instance, just as you start grinding your clit along his shaft. the pleasure-filled moan he sounds out never gets old, echoed at the front of the Church of not, “father geto.”

all he shoots you is an unimpressed look, but he can’t keep his look up because the sight of you always inspires a thousand sermons and questions of morality.

“i like the dangerous aspect of it, father geto,” you reason with a sultry voice, grabbing his hardening dick and teasing his weeping tip along your folds. the both of you shiver. “it reminds me of how a holy man like you so easily fell for some pussy and got addicted to it.”

“pretty slut’s developing a dirty mouth,” he laughs, “carry on.”

“fucked a clueless, innocent girl in such a holy place,” you whined when his tip nudges past your pussy and into your gummy walls, spreading you open so deliciously.

“need my help?” you shake your head defiantly, sinking down slowly with calculated steps, gasps escaping your mouth as his cock continues to impale you inch by inch.

“and then claimed her right at the apse of the Church. on the altar, where bread is b-broken and wine is shared.” your eyebrows have knitted together from the pure stretch, descending down fully where you sit a little uncomfortably. no matter how many times you take him, he’s still big and full in you, needing a few moments to adjust as you wiggle your hips.

“can man prevent himself from chasing after his darkest desires?” father geto asks, bumping up his hips just a little and he grins at the little whine you let out.

“no, but God can,” you reason and yet you know you wouldn’t want anything to have changed between the two of you. you still would have wanted father geto’s downfall, you still would have wanted to see him stroking his cock behind the velvet curtains of the confession box.

you momentarily lock eyes with geto, drunk off the feeling of his length in you and the friction of your clit against his pelvis that you naturally gravitate towards him, feeling tired from all the grinding from earlier. he coos, receiving you without any judgement just like how a good priest should do and you feel most at home in his hug.

“what if my God is my darkest desire?” you barely make the connection before geto starts to thrust up into you, not too harshly but not too gently, either. you limp forward and just let him do the work, praising and worshipping you with every snap of his hips from below you.

“o-oh, baby, you’re so tight . .” suguru mumbles, littering kisses all over your neck and face while you struggle to keep yourself up, held up by your weak elbows as you try to meet his eyes. it’s the purple eyes you want to see as he fucks you dumb on his cock, full of lust and only on you as you drop all of your walls for him to enter. suguru tries his best, too, treating you as gently as he can out of the bedroom, which frankly isn’t much, but he tries. he brushes away your hair when it gets into your tongue during communion, he massages your knees in the rectory, he brings chocolate cake whenever he can.

he tries in the bedroom, too, but you are just too much for him. too much in the way that the devil’s whispers start to sound more and more like O Emmanuel and too much in the way he can feel the swell of his heart when even your name is mentioned. father geto doesn’t want to name it love, because in his position it will simply come off as manipulation, deceit.

father geto needs to know you are willing, too.

“father g-geto,” you whine, hands upon his face and sweat lining your brow, “faster, p-please—”

he chokes out a moan, “o-of course, sweetheart.”

you just feel so damn good, clenching so tightly around him that he cannot stop rutting his pelvis into you. he can feel the ripple of your ass with each thrust, the snugly fit tip hitting your g-spot ever so often to pull out the most beautiful moans from you. you’re both so wet and sloppy that you both can hear it — the squelching of your cunt paired with the pre-cum of his cock, mixing at your connected bodies in noisy pap! pap! pap!’s.

“s-suguruuu . . pleasepleaseplease.”

“whaddaya want, baby? words,” geto slurs as well, hips never stilling but now grinding in circles. his glutes and thighs burn but he won’t stop until you tell him what you want.

“i w-want your cum, inside me,” you mewl out like it’s a secret, like he hasn’t been cumming inside you for the past multiple times that you meet, “w-want you to breed me.”

suguru chuckles like it’s a dangerous bet, like he hasn’t emptied his balls deep in your pussy before, “you’re still on the pills, right, baby?”

ah . . the pills, that’s what you wanted to ask him to get more of at the beginning.

you nod hurriedly, “yes— i am, f-fuck—!”

“oh . . my darling’s close,” father geto grunts out, angling his hips so his cock reaches deeper in you, arms trapping you in an eternal embrace like Eve and the devil’s Serpent. you give him lazy, intoxicated kisses, sucking at the skin until there’s bound to be purple and he does the same to yours, albeit lighter.

“y . . yeah, i’m yours, suguru,” you whimper softly, voice breaking from the sheer pleasure once your hand sneaks in between to rub softly at your clit. you suck in a breath when both his cock and your hand find that sweet spot, moans suddenly overflowing into his neck with repeated “yes”’s and profanities until you cum with a cry of suguru’s name, juices spraying everywhere. it’s messy and filthy, your cum soaking his balls and staining the sheets.

“that’s it, thaaat’s it . . squirt all over my cock, baby,” geto continues to ram into your pussy as he praises, hips faltering in the slightest bit, “that’s a good girl.” it only makes you clamp down on his cock harder, making him hiss.

“i w-won’t last long, sweetheart—” he warns you but it’s not enough before he’s stilling in you, pupils blown wide as he shoots spurt upon spurt of hot cum into your cunt, filling you up to the brim as his cock twitches in you. you shiver at the feeling, breathing heavily in his arms as he continues to pump you full. slowly you recover but he stays plugged in, heading back to your position on elbows.

“she’s satisfied?”

you grin with a sigh, “very.”

“that’s all i ever want.” father geto smiles, gently bringing your head down for a gentle kiss on your lips. it turns heated soon enough, the gesture prompting your hips to move again on his very sensitive dick. but with the distant clack of shoe upon cobblestone that increases in volume, the both of you freeze.

“father geto?” it’s a boy’s voice, possibly one of the altar boys.

“what is it?”

the boy seemed to be relieved, as if stepping near the rectory was a sin in itself, “father nanami unfortunately can’t lead the night mass at eight tonight, will you be available?”

you shoot him a disappointed frown, but it is still his job after all. all he manages is a forehead peck.

“a-ah, yes, i am,” father geto thinks if it’s worth asking the next questions, “how many people usually show up to the night mass?”

“not too many, father geto, but it serves mostly the truckers and people in our town who have night shifts.”

you nod since you’ve never attended the night mass at all. father geto has conducted it; it was right on that fateful night where you had texted him about an unnamed confession.

“thank you, go in peace . .” geto shouts his reply and then looks at you with a small smile, speaking softly, “i have an idea.”

it’s only the afternoon when you make it back to your house for lunch before heading back out again like you planned with suguru earlier, following him from a safe distance until you’re out of earshot and sight of the congregation, even if no one was there. he kisses you gently in the sacristy, body pressed up against decades old of wooden cabinets and drawers. you have no idea what your priest has up his sleeve, so your eyes blindly follow his figure that brings out a toolbox proudly, taking out a hammer.

“don’t even know why the sacristy has a toolbox.”

“. . you’re insane,” your mouth drops open when he gives a hint of homily and sermon that you connect the dots, following him a little worried to the apse. there, stands the podium where he gives his readings and sermons, hands going straight for the board that’s nailed shut. turning the hammer around, using the claw at the back of it to remove the nails that hold it down, removing the nails of the lectern one by one with muscles bulking under his robes before it’s revealed.

“looks . .” he whistles lowly at the pristine condition of the wooden podium, “. . i forgot they gifted me a new podium when i transferred.”

“new priest privileges.” you nudge him in the side.

“i’m probably going to get transferred out soon, too,” he jokes with an arm around your waist, and in a perfect world, this would be the two of you looking at your newly built home in those terrible films. instead, you’re here, faced with temptation and sin.

“are you gonna be okay? we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to—” you cut him off with a hand to his crotch, sparing a glance towards the double doors. the church was small, yes, but there was still a good amount of people that attended it, even if the night mass garnered less.

“i’ll be okay, suguru. i’m wet just thinkin’ about it,” the other only hums at your revelation, bending down with you as you slot yourself into the dark place, pockets of light fighting to get in from the amateur job of the podium, “you better go prepare.”

“you’re a gem.” with a soft kiss to your forehead, father geto leaves just as the first parishioner shows up for mass: a whopping 43 minutes before the start of mass. you’re not surprised by the faith in this town, sometimes coming in to complete a rosary, do some extra prayers or partake in confession — but you realise you’re going to have to stay in this lectern for 43 minutes and more before he starts his homily. it’s a perfect fit, but trying not to rattle the box while adjusting yourself seemed to be the most difficult thing.

he had no helpers tonight, no altar boys, such a prime time to commit such a foul act in the eyes of God while he finishes up on the Gospel and you feel your fingertips tingling when he walks from the altar to the podium, dress shoes clicking against the wood of the floor of the rickety Church.

thank god the alb is huge and so is the podium, and thank god there aren’t any pews at the sides of the church. you know he spares some glances, too, so after a few moments of silence to reflect on the words of the Gospel, you’re lifting the alb right to where his boner was. you palm the area in wonder, at the clear sin of the act that you’re currently committing and this is all new to you apart from fucking when the place is empty.

“so big . .” it’s like he hears your whispers, cock twitching under your hold when you slowly remove it from his trousers, slotting his hardening dick through the boxers and zip hole without bringing too much attention. you trail your thumb over his tip that’s leaking pre, a difficult thing to see in such a dark place but you know it’s there when you kitten lick the mushroom tip.

you can hear a falter in his sermon, a stutter of words. leaning forward, you awkwardly switch onto your knees before wrapping your mouth around his length and it’s more clear now when you’re closer to the source of sound.

“. . ory of G-God, excuse me,” geto coughs as if he’s got something stuck in his throat, pulling at his chasuble that feels like choking him at the neck. your mouth continues its teasing, holding onto his thighs as you continue to suck on his fat cock. even now, you struggle to take it all in your mouth, pumping at the bottom while you bob your head. you can only pray that the broadcasted words of the sound system can cover up the obscene noises that your mouth makes.

“mmhh . . j—just, sorry,” the less-than-thirty church-goers don’t pay any mind when his hand snakes down from the top of the lectern toward you, offering his fingers and it’s like salvation after being stuck in there for God knows how long. you grasp at the hand, using your hand to stroke his shaft while you suck on his fingers. in a moment of bravery, you stick your head out as the other wills not to look down, but with a calculated glance to everyone that’s either asleep or zoning out, father geto rewards himself with one gaze while you switch from fingers to his cock.

“oh . .” he restricts himself before any pet name can escape, seeing your pliant mouth take all of him just like that first night but someone coughs and it snaps him out of the daydream, hand going back up.

“we should prioritise the Lord at every part of our day,” geto breathes heavily when he feels you deepthroat him, hands dripping the sides of the podium that you were sure the cheap wood would splinter under his grip. you focus on getting him in your mouth when he steps closer to you and you let out a small sound of surprise; he takes that small break to quickly bun up his hair, all wet from the sweat on his neck.

“mmf—!” there’s a small relief that leaves your priest’s mouth at having his tip hit the back of your throat, muttering a lot of uhm’s and repeated words. he wants to cum, and he wants to cum quick from how his hips thrust into your warm mouth, wanting to do away with conducting mass and to just be in your pliant pussy.

“. . a-and to make sure all our actions honour the Lord our Saviour,” his hips continue to move, continually buried up to the hilt in your mouth over and over as he fucks your mouth. you receive it willingly, hands taking action to play with his balls and that has his thighs tensing up. “and while you continue to live your life in praise—”

“f-fuck,” it’s whispered away from the microphone but you hear it, length twitching in response to your hands before you come off with to breathe. both hands stroke his cock while you suckle on the tip, driving him into insanity that he’s struggling to finish his sermon.

“you’ll be given the greatest graces in Heaven,” father geto shoots his cum down your throat and it’s so much, muscles pulled taut as he continues to buck his hips needily. you can feel him slump forward and out of breath while you continue to milk him and his words start to slur just a tad bit and while you clean him of his semen, you giggle to yourself under the podium as he gathers himself for another look down at you.

the final blow is how you stick out your tongue to show him the cum that’s left, a grin spreading that he just has to give you his hand again as you hold it gently, “—together in eternal life with God Almighty and Christ.”

“i hope i wasn’t too obvious on the lectern two weeks ago,” father geto laughs into your neck at your place, seemingly so long ago where he decided to step into your room and questioned your thesis on Paradise Lost. it felt like it was just last week he was bringing cake to your place, sitting in on dinner, walking with you around the town. now you sit in his lap in the living room of your house, unassuming because of the five day vacation that your parents decided to take. your mother stayed with your father for what, you never could figure out, but with the baby dropped off at the family across the street (your mother knew you’d be busy with university work) and them out to the next town, you did what every university student would do.

you sneaked priest geto in on sunday night, letting him take you on every surface he knew you’d spread your legs for him on, and now sat, freshly showered and the television turned down to a low, you could only hope this was what a life of matrimony could look like. all the dreams and fancy stories your mother tells you, you think you could twist this sick relationship and forbiddenness into something normal for at least five days if you convince yourself enough.

“you were stuttering on every sentence,” you mumble into his hair that starts to smell more and more like yours, arms encircled around his neck while he sits in a mere singlet. “you like my mouth too much.”

“ego te adoramus.” father geto hums quietly, pulling away from the embrace as he looks up at you and he sighs. if only he had found you sooner before starting his theology degree, before he could hear God’s call for him into priesthood. he would be happy being your childhood friend, anything.

“do you ever wish you weren’t a priest?”

geto swallows, brushing away the strands from your face and adjusts you on his lap, “sometimes.”

“my parents were open with my choice, as they always are, but they valued how much i liked to explore and try new things. they only said that i should choose this path carefully because they knew time is something that no one can get back,” he explains, hands stroking your sides carefully and you let yourself dream that you were just a normal couple, “some friends were weird about it, telling me i would miss having sex and whatnot, but i still value my relationship with God and the many things i’ve learned from my journey in the seminary.”

“but?”

“i didn’t expect to . . meet someone like you so soon,” suguru laughs when you shout a small hey!, feigning annoyance, “someone so bright, and loving and kind. someone that embodies what Jesus and the Church stands for, and something i’ve never seen in ages. unconditional compassion.”

“your praise is too heavy,” you swat away his hand, only attributing your disposition to your mother’s exemplary way of raising you, “is simple kindness that hard to see?”

“you shadow a lot of priests in conducting masses, baptising people, giving first communions, and you see a lot of personalities — some that are vile for people that regularly go to Church. it’s disheartening to see Christians who are clearly wrapped up in their privilege and pride and think they’re the most important religion to exist. you hear it in history books, through word of mouth.” geto looks just like a boy, frustrated with the world that he lives in that a scowl settles into his features and his hands ball fabric into tight fists.

you manage to relax him a little, running your thumbs over his face and hands; he twines his fingers with yours. “i thought that if i went in, i could at least try to reshape the community. bit by bit, open their minds about abortion, about the queer community, but it is proving hard when the first church you’re transferred to is a small town.” that gets a giggle out of you.

“you’re not wrong, suguru, for trying your hardest. it’s so admirable. i’m trying to unlearn things about the Church that my mom has taught me too, and it’s all interesting reads alongside my second year of uni. if you can change one mind, there’s the potential to change many others.”

geto lets you rest your forehead on his, closing his eyes to just feel you, “thank you.”

he’s not even sure when to tell you that he’s fallen in love, the hardest he’s ever done since in high school with his first love, or in university studying theology, and he’s not even sure it’s love. all he knows is that when he looks at you, a life until silver hair is all he can think about.

“you can do it,” you break the ice softly, placing a peck on his lips, “i believe in you.”

“i don’t think they would wanna believe a sex-crazed priest, darling, not when i wanna give you the life you deserve.”

you sigh, hiding your face, “i don’t think we can achieve that, suguru, not while you’re still married to the Church and i’m supposed to be celibate.”

“that’s out the window—” and he laughs when you slap him on the bicep, finding that you’d want him to laugh more. he does it sometimes when he gives sermons, recounting a specific story about his mother, or while baptising a baby. it’s pure like a young boy’s laughter, something to be protected, the way his eyes crinkle and lips stretch . .

“what if i break priesthood for you?”

what?

“no . .” you brows furrow, “don’t say stuff like that.”

“why not, my love?” you continue to shake your head, standing from your place on his lap and he’s confused — wouldn’t you want this?

“don’t call me that—” your safe space, your room is the only place all you can think in, and you escape to it before he can catch a thread of your clothing. father geto calling you that means he’s officially fallen, chained to the river Styx. the descent was fun, but you didn’t want to be the reason why he’d truly throw away all of his hard work, you didn’t want him to be shamed, nor did you want to be called out for being a temptress. self-serving while serving others — maybe that’s how Christians operated and you were the walking proof of it.

geto thinks he’s messed up big time and unsure of the reason why as he lets you stay in your room to cool down. he only sends out a text simply to check on you, but it takes you an hour before you’re ready; once he hears the click of your door, he’s heading up the stairs and pushing open the door gently.

just like that first night, he’s cautious when he enters your room as if touching your sacred place will have him reciting rosaries as penance, as an apology for staining your heart and your body. you stand.

“i don’t want you to leave everything behind just for me . .” you sound out, sniffling softly and the priest’s heart already shatters at the sound, “all your hard work, the years you did in the seminary and then just dumping it all just for a chance with a woman who you don’t even know whether will be suitable as your lover.”

geto’s expression softens in the dark room, only illuminated by fluorescent light from your bedside table lamp — “i won’t leave anything behind; all those years, all the studies, all of it mattered because somehow it still led me to you. if that isn’t God’s doing, i don’t know what else it was. my definition of Christianity has been entirely reimagined, entirely changed when i look at you, a person filled with nothing but pure lovingness and soft-heartedness and yet i still feel proud when you said you wished harm on your father because i know that Christ didn’t ask men to gouge their eyes out for nothing.”

he grabs your hands, stroking the back of your palms and stepping close to you as much as you will let him. suguru plants feather-like kisses onto skin before continuing, “i will always carry my Christianity with me, the shame, its history and if i fall, so be it. Lucifer had fallen many times after, crouching by Eve’s ear to whisper sin, turning into a serpent to give her the forbidden fruit, sentenced to rule Hell because he himself is Hell.”

“and are you dragging me down with you?”

“i have been dragged to the darkest pits of Hell from the moment i saw you, and if anything, while i worship God, i cannot ignore the olive branch that you hold out to me like a saving grace, like you ascend the same pedestal that the Trinity sits on.”

you swallow, eyes breaking contact and he’s quick to rectify that, both palms on your cheeks and your face is tilted upwards.

“our God will always be there for repentance if you wish so, but allow me to indulge in the blasphemy and filthiness and sacrilege of craving someone so desperately that my body burns from thinking about her and my knees want to strike the Earth whenever she’s around me.”

the sentence takes you aback before he’s leaning forward, but abruptly stops short— it’s rushed, can i kiss you?

“yes. yes, suguru—”

and he kisses you with the force of a thousand suns and the most detrimental winds of the pacific, arms going from your face right to your body as he wraps you in his love. geto deepens the kiss just as he always has, but the feelings that spark in you differ greatly from just mindless kissing during sex. it’s full of passion, full of possibly everything he’s kept bottled up as he walks you to your bed, yelping in surprise when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“do you still have your pills, my love?”

your fingers bunch up the same sweater he wears on the first day, “i . . ran out . . a while ago.”

“i’m surprised those pills work even after i cum so much in you,” that really draws a hearty laugh from your stomach, “but whatever happens, i’ll be here.”

“the feeling’s just too good—” you giggle, squealing when father geto lifts you off the floor and puts you on the bed.

“if you test positive, and if you want to keep it or abort it, i’m okay,” geto hovers over you, looking at you with so much love you wonder how you miss it the many times you’ve been together, “i’ll support you in everything that you do.”

a peak of silver shines in the moonlight under his sweater and you realise this feels like the first time you lost control over your lust, the first time you touched yourself. like heeding a call, his crucifix falls from the safety of his sweater and almost hits you in the face if not for suguru pulling away in worry.

“was it just like this?” he teases with a small smirk, knees already nudging your legs apart, “you imagined me fucking you with this dangling in your face?” your face heats up at the mention, at the fact he still manages to remember that confession and you nod whilst biting your lip.

“well, you get to live it now,” geto grins, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before having his way with you.

and have his way did he — you aren’t even sure what round you’re on at the moment, simply subjected to getting you face smushed into your pillow as he pounds into you from behind. geto grunts as he eases his cum-filled cock back into your sweet cunt, hands travelling everywhere over your sweaty back.

“are you okay, baby?”

you turn your head with arms still buried in the pillow, a cock drunk smile on your face, “splendid.”

“goin’ in— shiit . .” geto sinks into you easily, your mixed juices proving easy before getting himself right up to the hilt. his mouth hangs open in pleasure, pants leaving both your lips before he starts to thrust and the wetness is just straight-up obscene. with a wordless tug, father geto brings you close to him, wrapping an elbow around your neck while the other settles for your tummy, feeling the muscle that curls around you. he doesn’t trap you so tightly, simply holding your limp body up as his pelvis rams into you.

“your pussy’s just so good, darling,” he mutters into your neck as your head tilts back in ecstasy while your body trembles in geto’s hold.

“s’full, suguru . .” you whine, hands flailing for his toned arms that encircle your body while he thrusts, cum spilling from where you were connected onto your sheets. it was a blessing your parents were out because father geto doesn’t hold back with the way he fucks you, voice carrying throughout the house and permeating the walls that you hoped the neighbours wouldn’t hear.

going for multiple rounds meant the two of you were highly sensitive, jolting when his hand sneakily drew circles along your clit and matched his pace, while his length in you kept twitching and pulsing from the way your gummy walls wrap around him. “s-suguru — i need you, p-please—”

“i’m here, sweetheart,” geto chokes out, hand wrapping around the expense of your neck and turning your face, indulging himself in a sinful kiss that you return immediately. tongue and saliva is everywhere, hands and hips never slowing down when it comes to you and your sweet pussy. “i’m here, always, amie.”

“i’m gonna c— fuck— shit,” you tighten around his cock at the name, moaning into his mouth like a mantra, like a mystery that cannot be solved as he cums with a guttural groan into you and you shiver from the feeling of him filling you that you forget all about your own pleasure, body shaking with mini orgasms instead. “lay forward . .”

it’s softly spoken, and you obey, eyes fluttering close when he pulls out slowly and geto’s fixated on the drip of his cum that falls from your pussy. flipping you over instantly, he smears your juices together and all over your centre, smiling at how your legs close in on each other at the sensitivity. his tip’s filled with your cum, a messy painting of your repeated rounds.

“you’re the most stunning right here,” he breathes out as he rests on his calves, cock still hard. his hand trembles as he strokes himself, moaning softly at the warmth that he misses already and he’s brought to attention again when you whimper softly. you’re fingers play lazily with your folds, finger rubbing circles into your clit and all he can think about is pumping you full of his cum again when you look at him from under your eyelashes, with a subtle pout and the plea of the eye.

“fuck me again, father geto,” you mumble, “fuck me until i’m full of your cum.”

the priest only grunts lowly at that, trailing his angry tip along your pussy and collecting your juices before slipping in. the both of you gasp at the sensation, more of you when his hands close around your knees and push. he’s forcing your legs right up to your chest the same time he enters you, sending you deeper into desperation that you writhe on the bed.

“ohh . . tha’s a perfect pussy right there . .” suguru slurs, body pushed against your bent legs as his cross swings back and forth like an omen, like a crow watching your movements, “will you be mine, my darling?”

your voice comes out in high-pitched whines at his question, so intimate, so loving in such a dirty space. you can only manage nods when he starts to move, this new position allowing him to reach much, much deeper into you that you preen at the overwhelming feelings that bubble in your chest.

“yesyesyes! r-right there, suguru—” your back arches off your childhood bed, where you first prayed, where you first read the Bible, where you did your homework, where you first fingered yourself, all overthrown by the sheer blasphemy that geto suguru wished to indulge in, and you give it to him just like that, “f-fuck! love your cock in me, father!”

“o-oh . . you’re playing a dangerous game, c-calling me that, baby,” his eyes also struggle to stay open, committing your pleasure-filled face to memory as your jaw slacks and your eyes roll back. he can see your tits move with his rough thrusts as well, licking his lips while feeling you fuck him back, “are you close?”

“mhmm—” you’re humming, mumbling incoherent sentences at this point as your mind fogs at the neck-deep euphoria you were in. with the room that’s filled with sex to the nasty, sloppy noises of his balls hitting your ass, and soaking wetness that can be heard from a mile away, the both of you are lost to the claws of Hell. geto knows you’re close with the way your cunt tightens and your breathing escalates, using his thumb to rub at your clit and now you truly feel like you’re going insane.

“c-close . . haah—” your eyes try to stay open to look at the sight above you: messy-haired and body lined with sweat, the beautiful entity of abstinence and temptation all in one person. you fumble with his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer so you can admire him up close while he drives you to your high. the moment of vulnerability only spurs geto on, drawing out the brutal, carnal need he has for you.

“is that it? you wanted this?” he grunts out through gritted teeth, “you wanted me to fuck your pussy until it knows the shape of my cock?” the words muttered sends goosebumps throughout your body. you nod, “you wanted me to defile this pretty pussy so no one else can fuck you, isn’t that right?”

you whimper at the words as he pushes your legs further into your chest, “cum on my cock, darling.”

and you do. generous with it, you’re gushing all over his length as he continues fucking you through your overstimulation, thumb slowing its ministrations on your puffy clit as he chases his own climax. “taking my cock so well, so good like the good slut she is,” the other says through a small grin, hips stuttering when you give him a small yeah in return.

“another load for you, baby,” father geto groans out loudly before he switches to quick, fast thrusts into your warm, welcoming pussy before cumming with a whine, shooting thick ribbons of white deep into your womb. your moans are swallowed by geto as he continues to fill you to the brim, painting your insides and enjoying your slow, needy kisses.

“she’s had her fill,” you mumble softly, feeling sleepy while the other only hums in agreement. slowly, geto lets your legs down which only plop down on the bed, unsheathing himself from you and relishing in the way the cum dribbles out, glob after glob of cum leaving your pussy and onto the sheets, “are you okay, suguru?” he takes your shaky hand, interlocking your fingers with his as he scoots up to you, closer until he’s just over you.

“always better with you here.” you roll your eyes, tugging on the crucifix and pulling him into you where your lips collide, feeling him collapse by your side even as your mouths continue their movements. all you do is smother each other with hands, one through his sweaty locks and his grabbing your waist. you want to live through the feeling of his front against yours for eternity, deepening the kiss with your tongue and moaning softly when his fingers squeeze your ass secretly.

“you just stay here and i’ll clean you up,” with one last peck to your temple, father geto navigates your house like he lives there, getting a rag and wetting it before he cleans you up gently, fabric travelling along your skin like a kiss of hellfire as he massages your legs, your arms. there’s a multitude of things before the two of you succumb to slumber, going to the toilet, grabbing something to eat and then wallowing in some late night conversations (“do you think you find me in other universes?” / “i’ll find you in every one.”) until finally, you two settle in each other’s arms.

it’s like a still painting that would be studied by future literature students, scrutinised by art critics all over the world of a sacrilegious relationship that should not have place for love, that should not have place for purity, but the feeling of geto suguru’s arms from behind wound tightly and protectively around your physique feels like both the good and bad of the secular world. love and lust can coexist.

just as father geto worships, your luggage is quickly packed up a few weeks later alongside a pregnancy test that looks awfully reminiscent of the cross in the church. picture frames emptied, laptop and papers packed, a barren land of what used to be the place of a God-serving, holy girl — and even if knowledge caused her downfall, she was more than willing to own up to it. the room looked larger and drab with everything gone; you aren’t even sure how you fit everything into the luggage.

the fallen angels watch over your encounters with crinkles of the paper of your farewell letter, the squeaky floorboards, and the atmosphere of the night sounding like vacuum from its sheer silence as you snuck out of the house and into the stark night, hands clasped within each other’s while gravel below your feet reminded you of your situation. you weren’t sure if you were walking to salvation or away from it, but at least you knew Eden was by your side, with the lavender scent of your shared shampoo on both your heads and his saccharine words.

after walking for what felt like forever to avoid detection, geto waves excitedly to a car in the distance which seemed to house two men — one blonde that looks awfully like father nanami and the other, a white-haired man.

“i called up some friends,” suguru brings your connected hands to his lips and his tired eyes soften even further, pressing soft pecks along your fingers and face. your priest catches you in a sensual kiss, humming into it and mumbling sweet nothings that sound just like Lucifer in Eve’s ear, but you’re too enamoured with the sparks you leave on one another to notice the commencement of your coronation at Pandæmonium.

“we’ll be okay, amie. ego te amo ut dum stellae luceant.”

“Rise, then, to the thrones of Moloch and Paimon, of Belial and Beelzebub, of the infamous angel who challenged his Creator and clawed his way from the Stygian pool to Pandæmonium made of demon blood and soot-filled fingertips. Rise to Lucifer, and take your rightful place on the throne overflowing with hate and vice and villainy, and rule Hell just as how he would’ve wanted it.”

a/n: another insane piece .. pls dont look / tagging @mysugu @slttygeto @screampied @suguruplsr @na-t0 @peachsayshi

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narcoticv3nus · 27 days ago

Text

Catch a Ride to Heaven ❤︎ Arthur Morgan

Kinktober Day IV: Virginity

summary: rebellious reader is a sinner for her cowboy tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, virginity loss, p in v, praise, fingering, religious symbolism, cherry popping, midhonor!arthur, smoking, dom!arthur, sub!reader, rough sex, a bit of degradation, pet names, author attempts at accents wc: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

“Ma’am”

You looked up from your bible sitting on your lap, noticing a rather large man standing before you. His shoulder-length brown hair cascades down, framing his rugged features and intense blue eyes. A short beard adorns his handsome face, emphasizing the scar on his chin. Despite his rugged appearance, his smile reveals straight white teeth, complementing his sun-kissed skin with charming freckles. His well-worn cowboy hat had seen better days, colored black with a weathered rope tied around the middle and what looked to be claw marks running down the sides.

“Good morning, mister,” you answered, fiddling with the cross around your neck, trying to tame the sinful thoughts running through your mind. You had come to notice this man from afar. He would stop by your little town now and again, whether that was to buy guns or sell a suspicious amount of items at the fence nearby. Your eyes always followed him. You couldn't help it, although you tried to pray the feelings away many times. God never answered your prayers.

Your daddy was the local pastor. He was always smiling and friendly, claiming he prayed for every person he came across. He was a good man, always going out of his way to serve others. It seemed God had given him the gift of spreading his love all over, yet it seemed to run out when it came to you.

Your daddy had always been hard on you after your mama passed. Your brain was too young to remember much of her, but you could still remember the sound of her voice in your ears and the soft, comforting scent of her clothes.

Daddy said it was because he loved you; he was so strict, which you never really understood. Anytime you made a mistake or a mishap, Daddy would sharpen you back into shape, sometimes going to extreme measures. The bruises on your behind still stung when you sat down.

He never permitted you to be alone around other men, claiming you had to stay pure in the eyes of God or else you'd burn in hell for all eternity for spreading your legs for no-goods. He said men only wanted one thing, but he never specified what. It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were a smart girl. At least, that's what everybody said.

You didn't feel smart now as Daddy’s teachings drifted from the back of your mind like a cloud of smoke, thoughts of purity and maidenhood be damned. God knows you tried to resist them, and you really did. To push those thoughts aside, burn them, shut them out as much as you could.

But wouldn't he have answered your prayers if God were all-loving? Heaven knows you wanted to be a good girl. You did, truly! But there was something about this man that had your body growing warm, his deep southern drawl reaching into deep parts of you you never even knew existed. He had your voice growing shy, your hands feeling clammy as your thighs pressed together, desperate to soothe that sweet ache between your legs.

Sometimes, he would compliment you, saying he liked your dress or how you style your hair.

“May I say you're lookin’ lovely' today, little lady.” You swallowed deeply, your lips parting as you gazed up at him, eyes wide. “Thank-thank you, mister,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“You…you're awfully kind.” You continued, not being able to help yourself. How could you stay away when you yearned for him so deeply?

“I ain’t really,” he answered bluntly, his eyes boring deep into yours, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. You've seen that same look on many men before, but only he had your heart racing with want.

“Maybe just to pretty ladies like yourself,” he continued, his hand reaching up to scratch his stubble chin.

If your face wasn't on fire before, it sure was now. You didn't know what to say as you began to stutter, sweat building between your legs and inside of your bodice. “I don't—” Your fingers curled around your cross, praying to God to give you strength or show mercy.

“What’s your name anyway?” He spoke up for you, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pack of premium cigarettes. He placed the stick between his lips as he held the lighter close to his face, raising a brow when you lacked a response.

You gave him your name. Your eyes were bashful as they looked down at his shoes, noting the quality of the leather and his metal spurs.

“Ain't that lovely,” he responded, gray tendrils of cigarette smoke escaping his nose, his eyes never straying from your face.

“What’s yours?” you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady as your subconscious body seemed to float away, high into the sky and never to be seen again. You've never felt so euphoric. If it was wrong, how come it felt so right?

“Arthur,” he answered, tapping the ash from the end of the stick away into the dirt. “Arthur Morgan,”

“Well, it… it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” you said politely, part of you hoping to appease him. It seemed to work as his grin grew wider, his teeth poking out from behind his pink lips.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes looking you up and down. “You too,” he said, emphasizing your name before exhaling another cloud of smoke. You bit your lip to hold back the whine building in your chest. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to put a name to a face s’all.”

You wanted to tell him, no, to please stay, just a little longer. And yet you only watch in silence as he dipped his hat to you before turning and striding in the other direction. You watched him go, eyes drifting low to his backside, appreciating the natural sway of his hips as he left.

My Lord, please give me strength.

You and Arthur had met several more times after that. He'd sometimes saunter up to you after church, asking about your day and flirting with you right in front of the house of God, sometimes even in front of your Daddy.

Daddy had given you a good whooping after that, reminding you to stay away from that man if you know what's good for you. But you just couldn't, no matter how hard you tried. Lord knows you did.

But like Eve and the serpent, Arthur offered you the tastiest treat you couldn't refuse. Why did it feel so good if these feelings were so condemned? You started questioning your faith the more Arthur lingered around, and you started to fear for your sake. Maybe he was no good after all. Perhaps this was all a test.

But no horns were sprouting from the outlaw’s head, no devil’s tail swaying mischievously behind his back, he had no red eyes, and no white fangs. And despite what the poets might say, he had no slimy forked tongue. And you would know, counting how many times your eyes had fallen to his mouth as he spoke. Each time his tongue ran over his lips, yours would do the same.

There came a time when he placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your face when he asked to buy you a room somewhere for the night. His cold eyes burn through you. You knew you should've said no, refused the forbidden fruit, and asked him to leave you alone for good. You were a child of God, blessed without sin, and designed for purity. But those would all be lies. No one is without sin. You thought as you nodded, your breath shaky and your cheeks stained red.

Daddy will raise hell. You reminded yourself, but it was already too late. You sealed your fate when you decided to shake hands with the devil.

As Arthur led you up the stairs, his hand entangled with yours, his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the hotel, the wooden floors creaking under his weight.

He opened the door for you to enter the small and empty room, the hair rising on the back of your neck as he followed close behind you. “Arthur, I—” you stammered when it dawned on you, realizing what you were about to do.

“Shh, don't be nervous,” he soothed as a heavy hand rested on your hip, sliding up your waist. “I’ll take good care of you,” he reassured, gently removing his hat and placing it on the night table beside the bed.

Like a predator circling its prey, he stalked around your body until he stood in front of you, both hands on your hips as he smiled down at you. He was so close. You almost let out a whine of fear, eyes glued to his teeth to ensure he didn't have fangs, just in case.

“I promise I don't bite,” he chuckled, almost like he could read your thoughts. Maybe he could. He leaned close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Unless you want me to.”

You couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped you, anxiety and desire twisting and churning in your stomach, leaving you speechless.

“I've never…” Your voice trailed off, the words getting lodged in you as Arthur hummed in response, seemingly unsurprised.

“I figured,” he chuckled, confirming your suspicions. “Sweet, innocent things like you usually are,” he grinned, flicking the cross against your chest. You weren't sure what to make of that.

“We just won't tell ‘em, ay?” he let out a huff of amusement, reaching back to unclasp the necklace around your neck.

“Wait,” you halted him, gazing at his confused expression. “I…I want to leave it on,” you murmured, eyes drifting downwards, hoping you hadn't disappointed him. You weren't sure why you wanted it to stay; it didn't make sense logically. He was right; you should put it away, considering what you were about to do—what you were about to let him do to you.

However, something about it gave you a sense of peace or reassurance: even though you were betraying everything you were ever taught, everything you've ever known, God was still there, and he still loved you. Maybe giving in to your deepest desires could reconnect you to him in some way, that finding pleasure in the most sinful of ways wasn't sinful at all. Wouldn't he want you to feel good if he really loved you? To take what you want?

He was silent momentarily before he removed his hands from your grasp. Here it comes. You thought, eyes shutting, waiting for his disapproval.

His fingers grasped your chin, tilting it upwards, his thumb rubbing softly over your bottom lip. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” his voice cutting through the silence. “You can do whatever you like, darlin’.” his low, warm voice was gentle and consoling, offering comfort instead of pain.

“Thank you,” you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, your eyes gazing up at him with adoration, yet your hands continued clutching your dress, unsure of where to put them.

He hummed again, taking your small hands in his much larger ones, gently urging them towards him. You gasped as your fingers made contact with his skin, like it was the most lewd thing you've ever done. It might as well have been.

“I should be thankin’ you,” he responded, lifting your right hand to meet his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sweet softness you've never known. “Ain’t every day I meet a pretty girl like you.” he charmed, stepping closer towards you, your body stiff with nerves.

“I thought you said you were always nice to pretty girls.” You recollected, thinking back to the time you were first properly introduced.

“Well, I might've lied. Just a bit,” Arthur smirked, chuckling at your shocked expression. “They're not always as sweet as you,” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours. As your noses brushed together, he tilted his face to the side, one hand reaching up to guide your face to do the same in the opposite direction.

“Arthur, I don't know–” “It's alright,” he hushed, his breath hot against your lips. “Just follow my lead, alright?” You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when he requested you to. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, the thin hairs of his beard tickling your cheeks. “Now, breathe out. Slow.”

As the cool air inside your chest unfurled from your lungs, his mouth pressed against yours. You squeaked in surprise, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips moved against yours. His hands smoothed down your lower back, pushing you closer until his erection was pressing up against your stomach.

You moaned into his lips, your body set ablaze as you struggled to kiss him back, your movements stiff and uncoordinated. He pulled away, a deep chuckle leaving his chest, causing you to squirm in shame.

“Just relax, sweetheart.” he purred, the fingers undoing the top buttons of your dress. “Don't be so nervous,”

“Easy for you to say,” you huffed, watching as his hands descended to each button, opening it with practiced fingers. He laughed, kissing your forehead with a smile. “I know, but just trust me.”

Trust me.

This was the most trust you've ever put in anyone you've ever met in your entire life. Here, this man was undressing you so calmly, like it was the most casual thing in the world. It probably was, to him. How many girls has he been with? You thought almost bitterly, jealousy spiking at him cherishing any other woman like this.

Every man you've ever met has bragged about how many girls he's bedded, whether they were modest wives or working whores, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if the man was handsome or ugly, rich or poor, dirty or clean. They all had the same goal in mind. Maybe Daddy was right. You thought anxiously as your dress fell into a pool around your ankles, leaving you in your bodice. Perhaps you were just another notch under Arthur’s belt. Even Daddy would stumble home with his clothes undone and lipstick stains adorning his neck.

Maybe Arthur is different. Maybe he's a good man.

“What's goin’ on up there,” Arthur asked teasingly, yet concern still laced around the edges of his voice. “If you don't want this–”

“I do!” You interrupted quickly, hands latching onto the front of his shirt, your lips puckering in embarrassment. “Sorry, I–I'm just nervous s’all.”

“I know,” he said, his arms resting against your upper arms, rubbing his calloused hands over your soft skin. “I understand. We’ll take it slow.” He promised, leaning forward to capture your lips in another kiss. He held his lips against yours this time, letting you adjust to him as his fingers deftly coiled around the strings of your bodice, slowly unlacing them one by one.

“S’been awhile myself,” he admitted, hoping to soothe you in some way as he took his time undressing you until you were left in only your bloomers, standing still with your face hot and your lips chewed raw.

“You don't…” you hesitated, wondering if you even wanted to know the answer. “…do this often?” You finally inquired as his eyes filtered over your exposed form. “Nah…” he answered, hands running all along your body.

“Well… once upon a time, maybe.” he grinned at you wickedly, his white teeth gleaming underneath his self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, finding the expression you subconsciously made amusing.

“Don't get all jealous now. It ain't like that anymore.” He promised, unbuttoning his clothes this time, undoing his vest, and taking off his short sleeve. “I wouldn't take advantage of someone like you,” he reassured, undoing his suspenders until he was left in nothing but his pants with his gun belt still sitting heavy over his hips and gun holster attached to his side.

Your eyes roamed to a large expanse of his chest, thick, coarse hair sprouting from his skin and leaving a path down into his pants. “Now,” he started again, your eyes snapping back to his face.

“Go sit on the bed for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender, a heavy hand smoothing over your head. After letting his words sink in, you did as you were told. You knocked off your shoes as you sat at the edge, trying to avoid his gaze. With a simple click, he pulled the gun belt from around his pants and set it down near his hat, his holster following suit.

“Take ‘em off,” he instructed, his eyes studying your face as he undid his belt, waiting for you to undress. You clutched the warm off-white fabric of your clothes, your breaths coming in shaky, knowing you were about to expose your body to a man; you've never felt so vulnerable.

“I won't ask you again,” he threatened, his lips tightening as his eyes narrowed. “I have no problem takin’ you back home.” Just the thought of home had fear swirling in your gut. You'd instead take this than face your daddy. You knew it was unavoidable, but you'd rather it at least be worth it.

You nodded your head swiftly, standing back up to shed yourself of your underclothes until you were left in nothing but a necklace sitting on your naked chest. The cold surface of its metal and the cool air caused your skin to rise in goosebumps, your nipples perking in response.

“Good girl,” he purred, eyes drinking in your naked form with a dark hunger you've never seen. The spurs of his boots clicked as he reached forward, carefully sliding them off before setting them aside.

As you sat back against the bed, your fingers reached up again, clasping your cross, letting its sharper ridges poke against your skin.

“Don’t be scared now,” you gasped as his pants fell to the floor, his cock finally springing free mere inches from your face. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor as you stared. You've never seen one before. Do they all look like that? Are they always this big?

“You okay?” he laughed, strutting towards you, his cock bobbing between his thighs, hanging low towards the floor. Up close, you could see every vein protruding from underneath his foreskin, a strange liquid shining at the tip.

��Um…” you were at a loss for words, unable to look away. “What if it doesn't… y’know,” Arthur tilted his head to the side as he neared, hands on your waist as he urged you back further. “…fit?” You finished with a squeak as your head hit the pillow below, and your hair splayed out behind you.

You peered up at him, curious as his cheeks dusted into a dark shade of pink. Was he embarrassed? Did I offend him? “It’ll fit,” he said, looking away almost bashfully. “Gotta prepare you first,”

Prepare me?

He leaned forward until his forearms rested against either side of your head, trapping you underneath his body. Soft brown hair strands framed his face as he leaned closer, and front pieces fell over his thick brows.

You gazed into his clear blue eyes, deep as the sea, with a warm yellow ring around his black irises, reminding you of the sun’s rays casting light across blue skies. His eyes flickered between yours, seemingly searching for something before his lips connected to yours once more, his hairy chest pressing against your breasts.

Reaching up with shaky hands, you entangled them into his hair, resting them gently in fear of maybe hurting him. “That’s it…” he encouraged, his hand finding yours, interlocking your fingers, and pressing them to the bed.

“Just breathe,” he reminded before kissing you again, his cock twitching against your thigh, subtly rutting against you. You did as you were told: in and out. You thought to yourself as you practiced slow breaths until your heartbeat slowed to a semi-normal pace. “You got it,” he smiled into the kiss before continuing down your neck, rubbing his lips over sensitive skin.

You whimpered, your hand tightening against his as he lowered even further, reaching your chest. He let out a deep groan as he pressed his face against your breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck.

You looked down at him in shock, unsure what to do as he began rutting harder against you. Is this what people do? You were so confused, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. He let go with a slow suck, his heavy eyes meeting yours once more.

“Have I sprouted three heads?” he chuckled, worrying his lip with his top teeth. You shook your head, one hand gripping his shoulder to balance yourself.

“I don't… am I doing this, right?” As you whispered, your face flushed with warmth, and you squeezed his hand tightly, seeking comfort.

“You don't gotta worry your pretty little head over nothin’,” he said as his fingers dipped between your bodies, tracing over your thighs before nearing your pussy. You could feel its dampness trickle between your legs and into the sheets, your little pearl throbbing with need.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, his gaze softening into an emotion you've only seen flicker in his eyes and disappear as if it was never there. But this time, it stayed; it settled for you.

You didn't know what to say, so you opted not to speak; the silence spoke for itself as you stared back. The hand in Arthur’s hair cupped his stubble cheek, urging him closer before kissing his lips. He grunted at the contact, his tongue prodding the entrance of your mouth, forcing it to open before it slid inside.

No fork. The thought popped into your mind as Arthur’s tongue slid against yours, massaging the wet muscle with flicks of his own.

The hand against your leg reached underneath your thigh, lifting it around his waist before dipping back between your legs. You gasped into his mouth as his thumb reached underneath your hood, finding your pulsing clit and pressing down, moving in slow and deliberate circles. You moaned out; never once had you felt anything so amazing in your entire life. You had never touched yourself down there before; shame always held you back, and now you regret it.

All those times you refused your aching body with release almost seem abusive looking back now.

“Oh, Arthur,” you gasped into his mouth as he continued, your hips lifting to try and chase the addicting sensation.

“It feels so…” You couldn't even find the words to describe the feeling. It would be useless to try to explain it now.

“Like that?” he groaned, picking up the pace of his movements as his other fingers teased your entrance, coating his calluses in your essence. You nodded, mouth still open as broken whines and whimpers escaped your wet lips. You arched your back, your face falling to the side as you squeezed his hand, nails biting into the flesh of his skin. Arthur didn't seem to notice; if he did, he didn't show it, fully enraptured by your sensitive flesh.

“Christ, you're so wet.” Arthur didn't mean anything by it, but the mention of a name so holy during a time like this had your thighs closing around his forearms, trapping his hand against you.

He was also right. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life. “Don't stop, Arthur.” You pleaded, trying to reopen your legs to give him more room.

“Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart,” came his husky reply. You sighed at his words, more so the thickness of his voice.

“Wider, darlin’,” he grunted, his middle finger catching onto the rim of your hole. “Gotta stretch you nice and proper, so you can take my cock.”

“Arthur!” you whined, embarrassed by his words, throwing an arm over your eyes. He laughed breathlessly, his movements slowing down. “Thas’ what you want, ain’t it?” He urged his finger, slowly inserting itself as you bucked upwards, trying to chase the dwindling pleasure.

You whimpered in reply, opening your legs further, allowing him to slip his finger in deeper. It was so thick and so warm, your pussy welcoming him with wet pulses as he slowly moved it in and out. The pain was sharp but was slowly replaced as his finger curled deeper, reaching places you weren't aware even existed.

“There’s a girl,” he rasped, eyes glancing between your face and your slippery cunt before adding a second finger. He wasn't deterred by the small amounts of blood coating his digits, only focused on making you feel as good as possible while preparing you to take him.

“You're doing so well.” he sighed, twisting his fingers before spreading them into scissoring motions, completely enraptured as your pussy convulsed around him, spilling more and more slick as his fingers quickened their pace.

The only sound in the room was your deep moans and the sloppy sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his hand. Arthur shifted his wrist so the edge of his palm rubbed against your sensitive button, curling his hands deep against your G-spot and smirking in triumph once he found it.

“There it is,” he chuckled as he gazed upon your expression. Your thighs slammed closed around his wrist as you arched your back deeply, feeling your spine ache in protest, but you didn't care.

“Ah! Right there!” You squeezed his hand with all your strength as a new sensation built in your stomach. Something was coming.

“Arthur!” You whimpered; your free hand reached towards his wrist, which was now twisting with more force as his fingers pumped faster, harder.

“Wait! It’s—I’m,” Arthur was quick to silence you with another deep kiss, yet you couldn't kiss him back as much as you wanted, your mouth struggling to stay closed as whorish noises forced their way out.

“Just let go, honey,” he groaned, the heel of his palm digging deeper. “It's alright, just let go.” His voice was so thick and coarse, so warm and so rich, so deep and so guttural you couldn't help but fall victim to his spell.

With one final wail, you felt something rush out of you, something liquid but didn’t quite feel like pee. All you knew was that it felt good.

I hope this is what heaven feels like.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your voice growing tight as Arthur continued his pace, helping you ride out your high before eventually slowing, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, taking in your debauched state with a proud smile. Your hair was in disarray, strands sticking to your sweaty skin as your eyes fluttered, lashes resting against your darkened cheeks, and your eyebrows drawn close. Your lips were wet and rubbed red from his kisses, drool lewdly sticking to the corners of your mouth. Your naked chest heaved, your cross still sitting in between your breasts.

“You alright?” Arthur chuckled, slowly removing his fingers from your wet heat and wiping the mixed residue on the sheets.

“I never wanted it to stop,” you whimpered at the empty feeling inside you.

“I know that's right,” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. You gazed up at him sheepishly, your hands reaching out to grab his forearms, letting your hands feel the warmth of his skin.

He hoisted your hips upwards, wrapping your thighs around his waist before leaning forward, his palm cupping your cheek before slotting his mouth against yours. Your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the kiss, unaware as his hips shifted forward.

With one hand around his cock, he pumped it generously, coating his dick in precum as he guided it toward your entrance.

“Big inhale for me, darlin’,” he requested one final time. You did as you were told, breathing in a large gulp of air before you felt something catch against your rim and push inside, filling you inch by inch as the air caught in your throat.

“And out,” he grunted, pushing his cock to the hilt, forcing himself deep inside, cursing as you clamped around him. He swore he'd felt traps looser than this.

Your exhale was probably closer to a sob. You've never felt so full in your whole life. Although the stretch wasn't nearly as painful as you imagined it would be. There was just so much pressure.

“You're doing good, fuck, just keep breathing.” he panted, barely even able to pull back with how tight you were clutching him. You nodded when trying to focus on his words as his cock throbbed inside of you.

“Good?” he grunted, his face twisted into something akin to pain, his heavy brows pulled forward, his face creasing as his eyes threatened to squeeze shut despite his resistance to keep them open. He sucked on his lower lip, struggling to concentrate as your wet heat pulsed around him.

“It feels… full.”

He groaned in response, thrusting up into you until his pretty cock punched against that spongy spot, causing you to kean, your body squirming, unsure if it wanted to pull away or chase the feeling.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands pushing against his abdomen before he took your wrists in one hand, forcing them above your head as he rocked against you, fucking his cock in and out in slow yet deep thrusts.

“Take it,” he practically growled, his warm gaze turning cold as he towered above you, one hand enclosing around your hip as leverage, manipulating your body up and down in time with his thrusts.

“God, fucking take it,” he accentuated each word with a powerful shove, your skin slapping loudly each time they met. You couldn't even use anything to stabilize yourself, his fist wrapped firmly around your hands, holding them down with ease.

You were forced to take the onslaught of pleasure, tears welling up in your eyes as you cried out with movement, each jamming of his cock against your sore, sensitive pussy.

“Arthur!” you sobbed, your body squirming desperately underneath him, attempting to run away from his battering hips that grew faster with each minute that passed.

“Yeah, say my name,” he moaned, his eyes falling shut as his lips parted, deep pants escaping his chest with every movement. “Go on, say it again,” he reopened his eyes, glaring down at you with a look of something fierce.

“Arthur!” You moaned, pleading with your eyes for him to slow down. He smiled wide, letting go of your wrists, urging you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leaned in close, chest to chest.

“Am I being too rough?” he teased, pecking your lips tenderly as he slowed to a softer grind, allowing you a bit of grace.

“It's okay,” you panted, nails digging into the hard muscles of his back, closing your eyes in bliss as his thick cock ruined you for anyone else. “You can go faster… if you want,” you gripped him by his arms, burying your face in his neck, shyly kissing the expanse of his throat.

He let out another deep groan, his hand resting behind your head, pulling you closer as his other curled into the sheets below you, fucking up into you at a steady pace. You held onto him tightly, knowing you wouldn't last much longer.

“It's coming again,” you warned, your voice high-pitched and airy as you struggled to breathe, feeling as though he was fucking into your lungs.

Arthur leaned upwards, letting you fall back onto the bed as he took hold of your waist, his unoccupied thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing fast circles as he urged you to finish.

“You’re almost there,” he grunted, watching as his cock reappeared before disappearing back inside you, the base coated in your milky arousal.

“You got it, c’mon,”

You reached behind you, fingers curling into the sheets below as you arched in his touch, gasping for air as the sweet pleasure built quicker, coming in faster and harder. “M’so close, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know,” he cursed, fucking himself deeper, trying to get as much of himself inside as possible.

“I can feel you squeezin’ me,” whines began to escape his lips, sounds you never thought you'd hear him make.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, barely holding on as the thread threatened to break. You watched Arthur’s shoulders shake with what looked to be laughter, his thrusts stuttering before picking back up again.

“Yes,” he dipped his head to the side with a hiss, his thumb pressing harder against your delicate pearl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,”

Something about the nickname did it for you. It was said with affection and lust, smooth as silk and sweet as strawberry wine. Arthur’s voice was thick and rich, slipping into your ears and knocking around in your brain.

You came with his name on your tongue, crying to the heavens above, knowing that even if God has turned back on you now, at least you’ll suffer knowing you were loved in some way by someone. You felt his nose nuzzle into the side of your neck, his hips slowing into something almost romantic.

You felt him place a kiss on your shoulder, almost as a silent apology, before drawing back and slamming forward, fucking you so fast and so deep the frame of the headboard knocked against the wall over and over. You held onto him for dear life as he used you for his pleasure, groaning uncontrollably in your ear.

“Almost there, fuck,” he whimpered, his hold on you tightening to something almost painful before he pulled out swiftly, pumping his cock at an inhumane pace before shooting white ropes across your stomach. He came loudly, teetering near a shout. Every time you thought it was over, more and more kept coming out, eventually spilling onto his hand and running down his length.

He glanced down at the cross, rising and falling with every movement of your chest. He smirked, holding it up in his clean hand, his thumb smoothing over the protruding patterns.

At least now he can say for certain where he’s truly going.

“C’mon, darlin, let's get you cleaned up.”

main masterlist, rules

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axstoria · 1 month ago

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Bruce sobbing until he throws up in his room one night after he finds out in Flashpoint that his baby would have been a priest, had he never met him.

Instead of growing up surrounded by guns and blood, Jason might have been taken in by the local church and raised as the pastor's son instead of his own. He would have had plentiful food and attended Sunday mass, clutching crosses and Bibles between his little fingers instead of batarangs. A cross would have danged around his neck, and the distinctive 'R' of the Robin uniform wouldn't have been plastered on his chest. He would have slept throughout the night, safe in those stained-glass walls, in his bed instead of out fighting crime.

He could have graduated high school, and all the church clergy would have sat in the stands to watch, cheering on their boy as he walked up to the podium to receive his diploma.

Jason would have gone to school—college—and become a man of the community. He would have found solace in the Lord instead of tucked away under a cape and cowl after long patrols. His boy would have inspired all those who stepped foot into his church, helped hundreds, and saved dozens of souls.

Depending on his branch, the boy could have gotten a wife and had kids. He could have been happy.

Yet, curse Bruce and his infinite charity, he couldn't bear to see a boy alone on the streets, left in the same situation he had been all those years ago. What man in his right mind wouldn't of taken Jason in that night?

He can't bring himself to think about it. His baby boy could have been alive and well this entire time, and Bruce wouldn't have ever known him.

The guilt he feels over that is worse than the guilt he felt when Jason died in that warehouse, knowing that he damn well could have prevented it, had it not been for his stupid, shadow-covered, bleeding heart.

#i can imagine him sitting in front of the fire and just SOBBING #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #dc robin #robin #jason todd angst #bruce wayne angst #flashpoint #flashpoint paradox #angst

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sapphsorrows · 10 months ago

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"people only pick on trans people because they're easy targets" yeah no shit they're easy targets just like flat earthers and antivaxxers. what they believe is absolutely fucking insane when you think about it for more than 2 seconds.

the idea of trans is no different from the idea of predestination.

predestination says only those who have been chosen by god will be saved and will go to heaven. how do you know you're predestined? there is literally no way to tell externally. there is no test you take to make sure you're predestined. you just have to put your faith in jesus and know, internally, in your heart, or whatever. funny how literally everyone who believes this also happens to be one of the ~chosen ones~.

the idea of being trans is that some people are born in the wrong body. how do you know you're born in the wrong body? there is literally no external way to tell, aside from maybe a few "am I trans?" quizlets (which as we all know are 100% accurate always and only made by professionals and not 12 year old furries). you just look inside, or whatever, and somehow "know" or you decide for yourself. then, based on your own self-reporting, which you have no way to externally verify, you expect people to bend to your will and you expect society to give you special privileges that no one else gets. no other man gets to pee in the ladies' or compete in women's sports but once you self-id as trans? well, right this way "ma'am", pay no mind to the women cowering in fear of you. their rights don't matter nearly as much as your feelings. funny how damn near everyone who believes in this also happens to be trans themselves, will a few outliers.

even "gender critical" transes like mr. blaire white and ms. buck angel will talk in hours upon hours of videos about the importance of gatekeeping and protecting women's spaces, yet /they/ demand the exact same privileges as every other "fake" (in their words) trans person on tiktok. do you seriously think "fake" trans people are going to listen to you and suddenly not go into the women's? No! are you fucking kidding me? it's so much easier to tell a buck or a blaire to fuck off than it is to a delusional fetishist who will 100% either hurt you or make a scene. there is no "true trans" because EVERYONE claims to be truly trans, everyone from bruce jenner to the "IT IS MA'AM" gamestop dude.

it fucking baffles me how youtube skeptics - people i used to admire, people who taught me how to think critically about shit - will spend all damn day dunking on flat earthers and creationists but will turn a blind eye to the trans cray and will even go as far as to support them. they think they're so above it all and they can't be fooled, but they have been, and I keep waiting for them to snap out of it - just like I waited for my own family to snap out of christianity - but they haven't.

if you seriously think a dress and some hormones and plastic surgery will make a man into a woman, you're insane, and you're no more crazy than a youtuber who thinks antarctica is an ice wall or a pastor who still prays to his "sky daddy". you have no right to make fun of these people for the insane shit they believe when you believe in this nonsense. you are quite literally the pot calling the kettle black.

and if you're one of those people who's like "oh well i know they're not actually women i just call them that to avoid hurting their feelings" im sorry but you're still in this cult, you're physically in but mentally out and the only way to really get out is to call a spade a spade, admit the emperor has no clothes, admit you were fooled just like me - just like all of us - and speak out against it.

#trans cult #gender critical #peak trans

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xclowniex · 28 days ago

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I just had the TV show "nobody wants this" recommended to me by a coworker so here is why I (most likely) will not be watching it

For those who don't know, it is a TV show where a rabbi falls in love with a goy sex podcaster.

1. The whole jewish women aren't fun trope, and jewish mothers are all overbearing and hate any women in her son's life trope.

2. It also does the "pervy bar mitzvah boy" trope

3. The whole premise of the movie is that it's crazy that a rabbi wants to pleasure his partner!!!! When per the torah, men are supposed to satisfy their partners. And that's why it was so funny when Ben Shapiro admitted he failed at this. I'm not going to act like all jewish men are inherently good and not sexually selfish as I'm sure there are plenty of jewish men who fail to make their girlfriends and wifes orgasm. But it does play onto the feminization of jewish men trope when you act like jewish men inherently are incapable of satisfying their partner. It's neither an inherent or non inherent thing to jewish men, and is generally weird in the first place, but extra weird because they put this trope on a rabbi who should know about needing to satisfy his partner according to jewish texts.

4. The rabbi also lowkey dresses like a youth pastor. This isn't huge up there and not problematic, but damn at least dress him like a rabbi, even a reform rabbi no need to go full hassidic orthodox with it.

That said, I'm not going to clown on anyone who watches it, as long as they are aware of the shows short comings and are aware that it is not good representation. Whilst it sucks that it's super hard to get good jewish rep in shows, it's not like the show is spewing nazi propaganda. I might even watch the show myself if I decide I want to cringe.

#jumblr #jewblr #jew #judaism #nobody wants this

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slyblonder · 7 months ago

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King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

——————

a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

#ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi fanfic #song mingi smut #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #slyblonder

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ghostboneswrites2 · 8 months ago

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A Mess || Part 8

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

A/N: this is not the last part I promise

Summary: You finally make it to the town you set out for all those days ago. Feelings get shared when you find a place to stay for the night.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, suggestive

"Can't believe we left the map." Daryl shook his head as he drove. He finally got one of the cars working, though it had a strong gasoline smell as he drove it.

"You were in charge of it." You pointed out.

"Don;t need it anyhow." He defended. Men and their pride when it came to directions never ceased to amuse you. "Should be 'bout thirty minutes up this road. We can load up some while we're there, get gas, hole up of the night, and loot s'more before we head back tomorrow."

"Sounds great." You agreed. "If I have to go one more day without a shower I'm gonna kill someone."

"Can barely fight a walker off of ya. Who you gonna kill?" He teased.

"I was distracted." You defended.

"With what? The view?" He retorted. Well, yes, but you couldn't tell him that.

"Whatever." You grumbled, crossing your arms and turning your attention out of the window.

It wasn't long before the town you two originally set out for rolled into view. You spent an hour looting an old thrift store for some clothes and random things you thought the prison could use. Board games, soaps, hairbrushes, plates and bowls, you name it. If they had it, you took it. Next was the pawnshop for guns and ammo, which were pretty sparse but they did have some good knives and machetes. You also found an old DVD player and some movies that you thought might be nice for Carl or something. Daryl focused more on equipment. Golf clubs, tools, lawn equipment for when everyone started working on the garden.

On your way out of the pawnshop with your load of treasure, you noticed a flyer on the window. 'MONTHLY FOOD DRIVE - DELIVER ALL GOODS TO 227 PINEBLUFF CT DR'

"Hey, check this out." You called Daryl over. He squinted as he read it.

"C'mon. Town's small. Can't be too hard to find."

----

It wasn't hard to find. It was a church, of course. Wasn't hard to clear the place out, either. Just the pastor and a few ladies stumbling around. They had a bunch of canned goods stored in an office, which you and Daryl happily loaded up in the car.

"Think this is a good spot to crash for the night?" You asked him.

"Nah. Windows are all busted. We'll find a little house or somethin." He said.

So, when you guys were done with the church, you drove around for a little while, siphoning gas from random vehicles and searching for a house suitable for the night. He settled on a little blue house, with a fenced in front and back yard. He reasoned the fencing was good added protection. Plus, the windows looked to be in tact and overall the place looked untouched.

There weren't any walkers inside, but there also wasn't any food. There was, however, running water. Whoever these people were, they ran their house off filtered rain water.

While Daryl was working on blocking all the exits off with furniture and nailing blankets over the windows so nothing could see inside, you opted for a shower. It wasn't hot since the house had no power, but damn was it nice to feel clean. Well, as clean as you could get with no soap, anyways. The towels were all dusty, so you drip dried when you got out. When you were dry enough you slid into the extra outfit you packed, and found your way back out to Daryl. He had the house as safe as he could get it by then.

"All yours." You told him.

"Nah." He shrugged.

"Uh, you smell like a biohazard." You insisted. He glared.

"Yeah, shoulda smelled yourself. By day two in that tree house you were chokin' flies." He shot back.

"And, would ya look at that, I showered!" You sneered. He huffed a little breathy laugh and shook his head as he grabbed his bag and disappeared to the shower.

You were hungry, so you decided to light the gas stove and heat up a can of Campbell's chunky beef stew for the two of you to share. By the time it was done, he was out, so the two of you ate in silence before tossing the emtpy can and borrowed spoon in the sink.

"It's not even dark yet." You commented.

"Yeah. Best to get to bed early. We can head out first thing, make it back home by tomorrow night." He reasoned.

"Guess so." You agreed.

"Guess? You don't wanna get back?" He questioned.

"And give up our quality bonding time?" You joked. He scoffed and shook his head. Damn, you were a smartass.

"'S that what ya call it?"

"Yup. What else would it be?"

"Thought we were stranded on an island." He recalled.

"Oh, that. No, I was just hungry." You shrugged. "Never take me seriously when I'm hungry. I become a different person, really."

He rolled his eyes a little. "Still wanna play that game?" He asked.

"What game?"

"Twenty questions."

"Twenty-one questions, Dixon." You corrected. "And sure. You go first."

"Alright." He nodded, pondering for a moment. He had a million questions he could ask, but somehow they felt too personal. Did you miss Shane? Were you ready to move on? Did you like him, or were you just a tease? Why did you always pick on him? Was it the same reason he always picked at you and gave you shit? "How ya like the shoes?"

"They're good." You nodded. "I love them. Thanks again. Uh.." You thought for a second. "How long do you wanna grow your hair out?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "What'd ya like to do before the world went to shit?"

"Hmm... Paint, listen to music, go go out and eat my weight in food from little hole in the wall restaurants." You recalled. "What kind of music do you like?"

"Whatever was on the radio." He said. "You plan on movin' on?"

That was an okay question to ask, right? He broke the ice pretty well, he thought, with the rapid fire Q&A flying between the two of you. He realized maybe not, though, because you seemed to really take your time with that one.

"Don't see why not." You finally said. "I mean, he would, right? As long as I thought I found someone who would treat me right... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

You asked the question so casually but it choked him up. He felt so naked, like a chicken with all its feathers plucked off one by one.

"No." He cleared his throat. "Nah."

Uncomfortable silence blanketed over the two of you.

"Your turn." You reminded him.

"Oh. Are you?"

"Am I..?"

"Seein' anyone." He clarified. You giggled a little.

"No. But I have met someone. Real nice guy, actually. He gets me gifts and teases the hell out of me, but I think he'd do just about anything for me." You smiled to yourself. He had to know you were talking about him, right? Wrong. He was clueless. Right over his head. He admittedly felt sad to hear it. Who was this guy? He kind of sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you. "Do you like anyone?" You asked, taking him out of his swirling thoughts.

"Nah." He shrugged. A lie, but everything he had tried to work up to was washed away when you said you met someone.

"Oh." You said, slight sadness hinting in your voice. "Your turn." You reminded him again.

"Who's the guy?" He asked.

"Oh, you don't know him." You waved him off. If you could slap yourself, your would. What kind of lie was that? He knew everyone. There were literally less than ten of you if you didn't count the baby.

"Oh? Some kind o' pen or somethin'?" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then it hit him; you were talking about him. That's why it sounded like everything Daryl tried to be for you, because it was him. "Oh." He blurted quietly.

Your face felt like it drained of blood completely. Well, way to completely humiliate yourself around the only real friend you had, huh?

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah." You nodded, forcing a smile, but your voice was sort of meek and squeaky. You shook it off, reminding yourself that you were, in fact, not the type to falter under pressure. This would be no different. So what if you liked him and he didn't feel the same? You could get past that. It was nothing--

"(Y/N)." He snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You asked if I like someone..." He trailed as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah?"

"It's just -- I do, but... How do I know she likes me too?"

He didn't make eye contact as he asked. In fact, he looked quite literally everywhere except at you.

"You just... ask. And if you don't wanna ask... Make your move." You shrugged.

"Right." He nodded.

Well, that conversation had gotten awkward enough for you, so you figured that was a good place to end it. You cleared your throat and stood up.

"I'm gonna go choose a bed." You announced.

You went to walk past where he sat on the couch but he stood up abruptly and cut you off.

You looked up at him with confusion. What did he want? Your nerves were eating away at you and you were honestly pretty tired. You shifted your weight anxiously.

"Daryl--" You went to complain about it but he had other plans. He gripped your arms firmly and smashed his face into yours. Like, actually smashed. It hurt. "Ow." You mumbled as you rubbed over your mouth. He gulped. It was supposed to be a kiss. Was he always so clumsy?

"Sorry, I--"

"Were you trying to kiss me?" You asked. He just stared at you. "'Cause, I gotta tell ya,you could really work on your technique." You smirked.

When he remained frozen, you began to feel bad for teasing him. He clearly had no idea what to do now. His hands were even still rested on your arms.

"Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

His eyes were still closed when you pulled back, a tiny smile slowly spreading over your lips. When his eyes opened,he looked disappointed, like he was waiting for more.

He leaned down slowly, a little unsure. He was waiting for you to stop him, but you didn't. You pushed yourself back up on your toes o close the gap and snaked your arms around his neck. This time, it was deeper. You slowly moved your lips, allowing him to find the rhythm and synchronise. When he felt a little more confident, his hands gripped your hips and he quickened the pace.

Slowly, he eased you down onto the couch. You gladly followed his lead. When you were comfortably seated, his lips peeled away and his kisses found their way down from your cheek to your neck to your collarbone. Oh, this was going to get good.

A/N: next part will be spicy ;)

Masterlist || Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader

((I didn't use the tags in all the one shots I just transferred cause I didn't wanna hit you guys with like 348827502720 notifications in one day))

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #18+ mdni

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squoxle · 1 year ago

Text

Golden Rule - L.HS ff ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

🎧 pairing: inexperienced!heeseung x badgirl!reader

🎧 summary: your cute and nerdy classmate lets you have your way with him in exchange for help on an assignment

🎧 cw: corruption and exhibitionism kink, oral (m. receiving), religious themes, mentions of bullying, college au, hee’s a bit subby

🎧 wc: 1.4k

You had been feeling horny for the entire week and knew you had to get your hands on some good dick or else you’d literally combust.

Introducing your person of interest: Lee Heeseung.

He was the type of guy you could guess everything about without even speaking to him. From his glasses, the way he tucked his ironed dress shirts into his belted pants, the way you only saw him either sitting with his legs crossed at a church sermon or studying his heart out at the library.

Heeseung was the epitome of a Christian nerd, but it was his insanely good looks that drew your attention to him in the first place.

You two first met at the beginning of the school semester, but you weren’t sure if you could call it a friendship just yet, especially not with the way you’d fantasize about him with your fingers between your legs every night.

It currently 6:00pm: the same time he’d come to the library to study every week day.

“What’re you working on,” you asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Nothing much. Mr. Sweeney gave me this stupid hand written essay that I have to turn in by tomorrow, so I’ll be pretty busy for the next few hours.”

“What for? I thought Mr. Sweeney taught Bible. There aren’t any writing assignments for that class.”

That’s honestly the only reason why you took Bible class this semester.

“He does, but this isn’t a part of the curriculum. It’s a punishment for the prank I pulled on Jake and his crew yesterday… let’s just say, I didn’t get away with it as easily as planned.”

“Oh, so you do have a naughty side?”

“Hardly,” he sharply defended, “All I did was swap their video game discs out with episodes of The Brady Bunch on dvds. But, Sunghoon snitched, so now I’m here.”

“Tough.”

“I know. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, anyways.”

“Nobody deserves to be bullied, Hee. Those guys were assholes and you stood up for yourself! They’re the ones who should be playing Shakespeare for the night,” you argued passionately.

His eyes widened at your use of a swear word, such language that was forbidden by your university code of conduct.

“I appreciate you taking sides with me, but please don’t call it bullying. Makes me feel all… soft, and… vulnerable,” he cringed at his own words.

“You look pretty soft and vulnerable to me,” you mumbled, hungry eyes falling to his pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

You cleared your throat, “Uhm, what’s the paper on?”

“The Golden Rule.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “The what?”

“Loving your neighbors as yourself? You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons.”

You chuckled at his comment, nudging him on the shoulder, “Hey, maybe I would if he wasn’t so damn boring… How many pages does it have to be?”

He sighed, “10 at least.”

Having to come of with 10 pages worth of “Golden Rule” greatness sounded much more challenging than you knew it actually was.

All he had to do was write in VERY BIG LETTERS.

You peered over his shoulder, examining the paper. He was just getting started on page two.

“Hmm. We have similar handwriting,” you added, making Heeseung look at you with his desperate doe eyes.

“Oh my God, ____! You have to help me!”

“Watch out, church boy. The pastor might make it 11 pages if he hear’s you calling the Lords name in vain.”

“Ughhhh,” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he groaned, “Can you please just help me out?”

“Uh-huh, and why would I do that?”

“Look, I’ll do anything! You’re a way stronger writer than I am, and my brain is in the verge of kermitting suicide!!”

He was right. Writing was never a strong subject of his, so he really did need your help.

“Fine,” you gave in, looking around the library before whispering in his ear, “If you can be quiet while I suck you off until you finish page two, I’ll do the rest.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

“You heard me,” you said cattily, sneaking under the table and between his legs.

“____, get from down there!! This is inappropriate!”

“Says who,” you giggled, unbuckling his leather belt.

“We’re not a married couple, ____. Hell, We’re not even dating!” He whisper-yelled from above the table, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand.

You could feel how tense he was just my touching his thighs, “You’ve never been approached like this before, have you?” You asked yet stated.

He took a deep swallow, already feeling himself throbbing in his pants, “Of course not… I’m trying to save myself here, y’know?”

“Aww, that’s cute,” you pouted, rubbing his bulge through his boxers.

“F-fuhh,” he mumbled, screwing his eyes shut at the feeling, “I don’t know if I can do this, ____.”

“With God, all things are possible, Hee! You should really pay more attention during Mr. Sweeney’s sermons,” you mocked, shimmying his boxers down to his ankles.

You adjusted yourself under the table before grabbing a hold of his impressively large dick, starting with gentle pumps.

“I’m not hearing the pencil penciling, Hee. Be a good boy and keep writing,” you slithered in a sing-song voice, licking a stripe up his shaft. The foreign texture of your tongue sent pleasurable shivers down his spine.

“____,” he cried with a surpressed moan, “how am I supposed to focus when you’re down there doing that?!” He worried, looking around as if waiting for someone to catch you two.

You released your lips from his heat with a pop, “Down here doing what, Hee? Sucking your virgin dick in the library? I always knew you had a naughty side.”

“Mmm,” he moaned again, rutting his hips up into your mouth, “please tell me you’re almost done, ____.”

You grinned at the sound of his begging, feeling yourself grow wetter with each second you spent between his legs, “Depends on if you either finish that last page or cum in my mouth first.”

Taking him past your lips again, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking the remaining inches you couldn’t fit comfortably in your mouth.

He tried his best to keep writing, but with that way you were sucking him off, his hands couldn’t help but drop the pencil before getting lost in your hair.

“Fuck,” he whined, finally letting the word come out.

He started to use your head like a toy as you sucked him in even harder, “just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

You were surprised by how his body slowly submitted to you the more you pleasured him.

Meanwhile, he was surprised that this was actually even happening. You moaned with the gag that tried to escape your throat, clinging to his thighs as your tried to hold in your sounds.

Your eyes started to poke with tears as he used your head more aggressively than before, finally shooting his warm load down your mouth, panting as if he’d just ran a marathon.

“Shh, you’re so noisy,” you teased, stroking him to a point of overstimulation.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he whimpered, taking your hands in his to stop your ministrations.

You licked the cum that dripped from your mouth before pulling his pants back up, getting from under the table.

You fixed your hair with your hands after literally just getting your face fucked by your sweet classmate, taking in his hot and bothered frame.

“How was it?” You asked casually, sitting next to him as if nothing happened.

You tried to ignore the sticky moisture that stuck to your thighs from your own arousal, figuring that you’d think about this moment while you pleased yourself later.

“Amazing,” he said with a shaky breath, still feeling his orgasm fresh in his veins.

“I’m taking about the page you just wrote, silly,” you teased, moving the sheet of paper closer to you before examining what he came up with, “Dude!”

“What, dude?” He asked back with flushed and sleepy features.

“This is garbage!” You exclaimed, ripping the piece of paper in half.

“Yeah, I don’t know why you would’ve expected anything different.”

“Gimme that,” you retorted, snatching the pencil from his hand, “I’m gonna need some coffee to write all these pages for ya…”

“Ugh,” he groaned, understanding that you were indirectly asking him to get you something to drink.

“Iced?”

“Always.”

He got up from the seat, searching through his backpack before pulling out his wallet, “Thanks by the way,” he smiled, trailing to the library exit.

“What can I say? It’s the Golden Rule,” you replied, jotting down the first of many sentences you’d write for Lee Heeseung, the guy you just blessed with the best blow job of his life.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon

#enhypen #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: While you and your church are protesting Corroded Coffin's concert, their lead singer shows you just how good being sinful feels.

Based on "Immaculate Misconception" by Motionless in White, requested by the amazing @offensiunculae 😘

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering, oral (f!receiving), public sex acts, religious themes with an emphasis on sinning/Hell

The hot sun beats down, especially excruciating on this July day. You feel your arm start to sag, an ache in your shoulder from hoisting up a sign for so long, and you lower it slightly to massage it.

A group of concertgoers jeer at you and your fellow protesters, flipping you off and hurling swear words your way.

“You see that?” Pastor Tom hisses, eyes shooting daggers at them. “Do you see what you become when you give in to this satanic worship? You can practically smell the evil oozing from their pores!”

You watch as the friends make their way through the venue, flashing their tickets to the attendant at the door. The pastor continues shouting about Corroded Coffin’s blasphemy and condemns everyone inside the stadium to Hell while the rest of the protesters echo his sentiments, but you can hardly focus. In your attempt to keep yourself from dehydrating in the summer heat, you’ve consumed an absurd amount of water, and you’re feeling the repercussions right now.

Quietly, you slip away from your congregation and walk over to the doors. “I need to use the restroom,” you murmur to the attendant, but he puts an arm out to bar you from entering.

“No ticket, no entry,” he snarls, a malevolent grin curling his lips. “Feel free to piss in the alley, Virgin Mary.”

You cringe at his crudeness, but when he crosses his muscular arms over his chest proudly, you turn back in defeat. There is no way you’re going to pee in the alleyway, absolutely not happening–

Your bladder has other plans, and you begrudgingly scamper off into the deserted alleyway, still choosing to take cover behind the Dumpster to shield yourself from passersby. You hitch up your skirt around your waist, shimmying your cotton underwear down your legs and grasping it in one hand.

There’s a pinch of embarrassment followed by the sweet feeling of relief washing over you as you spread your feet a bit wider. The end of the stream can’t come soon enough, and just as you’re tugging back on your panties–if you can even call them that, considering they came in a pack of six from the local Wal-Mart–someone clears their throat.

“Don’t–Don’t look!” you cry out helplessly, fixing your knee-length skirt so it’s no longer bunched up.

“You know there’s bathrooms inside, right?” The person–a man–says, a lilt in his voice telling you that he’s teasing. “Unless you prefer the great outdoors. No judgment.”

You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, so you keep your eyes trained on the ground. “I, um, don’t have a ticket,” you mumble, standing upright and starting to leave. You have no desire to converse with a random stranger, one who listens to the sinful music of the band inside.

“Hey, wait,” the guy tries, and his footsteps are heavy against the cracked pavement. “You’re not with those Jesus freaks out there, are you?”

At this, you turn around, anger burning in your lungs that you try to quell with a deep breath and a reminder to be sweet, just like the pastor instructs. “Don’t call them that,” you say tersely, biting your lower lip.

The man before you laughs, shaking his long mane of curls as he steps towards you. “I’ll be damned–”

“You will be,” you interrupt before you can stop yourself.

“Little churchmouse pissing in the alley outside of my show,” he continues, as though you hadn’t said a word. “Call that the ‘Eddie Munson Effect,” he adds with a smart grin.

It takes a moment before you process what he’s just said. My show…Eddie Munson…

“You’re the guy from the video!” The realization hits you like a truck. You’d heard Pastor Tom say his name a few times, praying that the singer-slash-guitarist would repent and change his evil ways. “The one where you wore a crown of thorns and were crucified.”

Eddie takes a bow, stumbling slightly over his crossed feet. “The one and only.”

“That’s blasphemy,” you snarl, unable to hide your disdain. “And idolatry. And God will punish you for your sins.”

“Let me ask you a question,” he starts, once again ignoring your disruption, “did you even see the video? Listen to the lyrics?” When you only offer him a blank stare, he grins, digging into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Camels and a lighter. “That’s what I thought.” The scent of tobacco smoke wafts past your nostrils as he lights a cigarette and takes a long drag.

“I didn’t need to,” you say, finally finding your voice. “My pastor told me–”

“Ah, your pastor,” Eddie mocks. “Tell me, Churchmouse–do you listen to everything your pastor says? Do everything he tells you to?”

“He speaks the Word of God.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Eddie slams his palm on the top of the Dumpster, startling you. His rings clang on the metal, reverberating through the small space. “Do you really think that God cares about a fucking music video? You think He’s up in the clouds, watching all the war and poverty and destruction, and He’s thinking about my music?”

Your mouth dries and you find yourself at a loss for words. “I, um, I…”

“But that’s not the worst part,” he continues through gritted teeth, shaking his head incredulously. “The worst fucking part is that you’re all too busy damning everyone to Hell to realize that you’re making their lives hell right now.” He looks at you, staring directly into your soul.

“The fans out there? They’re freaks. They’re outcasts. They like our music because we sing about real shit. Abandonment, nonconformity, rejection. And when they listen to it, they feel seen. Heard. Not alone.

“And you guys? Out there, fuckin’…tearing them down because they had the audacity to enjoy music that you don’t approve of?” He juts his forefinger in your direction, eyes blazing with rage. “Fuck. You.” He stubs out his cigarette though there’s still plenty left to smoke and pivots towards the door.

You’re able to formulate a coherent thought just as he’s about to walk back into the venue. “You don’t know me,” you shoot back. “You don’t know what I do or why I do it. You just live in your own little bubble, surrounded by people who idolize you, never hearing the word ‘no.’”

“So tell me no,” he challenges you, closing the door and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ask me for something.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “All right, churchmouse. You wanna fuck me?”

“Absolutely not,” you snort.

Eddie lifts his arms in surrender. “And are we fucking right now? No, we’re not.” He smirks in a silent I told you so. “Any other points you’d like to make?”

A scowl mars your face. “You’re infuriating,” you sneer.

“Then leave,” he says simply, extending an arm in the direction of your church group. “No one’s keeping you here. So you’re either sticking around because you like a good argument, or because you like what you see.” When you fail to respond, he takes a few steps closer. “Tell me ‘no,’ churchmouse. Any time, just say the word.” He glides the back of his forefinger along your cheek, and your skin heats up at his touch. “Is that okay?”

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Y-Yes.”

A large hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. “And now?”

“Yes.”

“How about this?” His lips are hovering above yours, breath hot on your mouth. You can taste the cigarette he just smoked; to your surprise, it draws you to him. You don’t realize you haven’t given him an answer until he murmurs, “Need to hear it, churchmouse. You’re killin’ me here.”

It shouldn’t be okay. You shouldn’t want this. These are the sins of the flesh that Pastor Tom warns you about, the feelings that are to be reserved for your spouse. And Eddie Munson is certainly not your spouse.

But the way his t-shirt ripples around his biceps, the hungry look in his deep brown eyes, the twitch behind the fly of his jeans that you can feel on your pelvis…

“Yes.” One word, one split-second decision, and his mouth is on yours. You’d shared chaste kisses before, but nothing close to what’s happening now. His tongue is warm and wet, and you accept it eagerly. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, but it feels so right.

Eddie pulls back after a moment of you too lost in your thoughts to reciprocate the kiss. “Not good enough for ya?”

You shake your head. “It’s too good…I just don’t understand…” Instinctively, you bring your thumbnail to your mouth and chew on it, despite your mother’s constant disgust towards such unladylike behavior. “I’m not supposed to think it’s good.”

His hardened exterior briefly softens at your confession. “Who told you that? Your pastor? Your parents? Jesus Christ himself?” He bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s natural, churchmouse. Nothing to feel guilty about. And ‘m not just saying that so you’ll fuck me.”

“I-I know.”

“You don’t have to fuck me,” he reiterates. “But if you do wanna fuck someone, and they wanna fuck you, too…well, I just don’t think you should let some invisible man in the sky stop you.”

The phrase, virginity is a precious gift from God, sits on the tip of your tongue. You’ve heard it over and over since the moment you learned about sex. A woman’s purity is a symbol of her devotion to her Savior and her spouse.

“I…I don’t wanna do that with you,” you mumble the half-truth. The fluttering in your most private area says otherwise, but you genuinely do not want to have sex for the first time with a stranger in an alley. “But I do wanna feel good. Can we…is there a way to do that?”

He smirks again, more knowing than devious, though it’s hard to differentiate between the two with him. “Churchmouse, if you’re serious, I can help you out. Can make you feel really good.” He swipes his tongue along his lower lip. “You ever…y’know…make yourself feel good?”

Your cheeks heat up, thinking of the nights that you caved to temptation and rubbed up against the unassuming stuffed animals on your bed. The utter shame that washes over you along with the wave of pleasure. It’s not as bad as actually having premarital sex though, is it? Pastor Tom claims that a sin is a sin is a sin, but surely that can’t be true. Lying to your parents, for example, isn’t the same as committing first-degree murder.

And if Pastor Tom is wrong about that, what else is he wrong about?

“Yeah, I have,” you finally say to Eddie, voice tinged with guilt. “N-Not, like, inside; just, um, touching…”

Eddie nods, grabbing your hand and leading you to a more secluded spot against the corroded brick wall. “Your skirt…” he starts, motioning for you to hike it up. You do as he asks, pulling it so the hem reaches mid-thigh. He lets his middle finger graze your panties, smile widening when he feels the damp spot that’s formed. “You’re wet already,” he muses, nudging the cotton fabric aside.

“Is that a good thing?”

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief that you even have to ask. “It’s a very good thing.” His finger wanders, and you clamp your legs shut when you feel him start to push it inside you.

“N-Not inside.” Part of you is worried that someone—your future husband, your pastor—will be able to tell if you’ve ever been penetrated. “Maybe just…there?” You take his finger and bring it to the part of you that you’ve only touched shamefully, whimpering at the sensation. “Yeah, that feels s’good.”

Your slurred words only spur him on, and he increases his pace, rubbing frantically. His tongue pokes out between his lips as he remains focused on your sensitive bud. “Keep talkin’, churchmouse,” he says, both an encouragement and an order. “Make lotsa noise f’me.”

You do as he says, whining and moaning with pleasure. Desperate for friction, you buck your hips slightly against him.

“There ya go,” he murmurs, amusement evident in his tone. “If you want a little more, I’ll use my mouth. Nothin’ inside, I promise.” He takes his free hand to cross an “x” over his heart. “I can just hide under this little skirt of yours.”

Eddie’s eyebrows fly to his hairline in surprise when your answer is a resounding, “yes, please.” He gets on his knees, grimacing as the gravel digs into his exposed skin where his jeans have holes. Sure enough, he drapes your skirt over him, expertly parting your folds with his tongue. He licks up and down before wrapping his lips around the most delicate part of you. He hums against your core, sending delicious vibrations shooting through you. Your legs tremble, and Eddie grips onto the plush of your thighs to steady them.

The part of your brain that isn’t flying high on endorphins processes the sound of your name being called. It isn’t Eddie–he doesn’t know your name; regardless, his mouth is occupied–and you have the sinking realization that Pastor Tom is searching for you.

“‘M coming!” you call out breathily, the inadvertent double entendre making Eddie chuckle against you. His tongue flicks rhythmically, and you nearly cry at the overstimulation of sheer bliss and the adrenaline rush of possibly being caught. The noises that Eddie’s mouth makes against your sex might as well be playing on the venue’s sound system with the way they echo down the alleyway. You let out one final moan as the wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Eddie slows his pace to bring you back down, only pulling away once you stop shaking. He emerges from under your long skirt, wiping your slick from around his mouth and chin. “I think you gotta go, churchmouse,” he laughs, pressing his palms to his thighs and standing up. “And I have a show to put on. Y’know, a very different type of show than the one I just performed.”

You can only nod, placing his hands against the brick wall and trying to grab on. You can’t go back out there, not after being defiled twenty feet from where they’re protesting. Eddie notices your hesitation and chuckles. “You wanna stay backstage and watch? Actually see the shit you apparently hate?”

“Yes.”

He holds the door open for you with a little bow. “I fuckin’ love when you use that word.”

#requests #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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iheartbrink · 28 days ago

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it will rain — chap. 1

⠀ ── ⠀ pair: pastors daughter!stewie x oc

⠀ ── ⠀ warnings: extremely heavy religious talk, religious guilt, talks of conversion camp, all the things, this is wordy and too long.

⠀ ── ⠀ a/n: my brain is fried from writing this.. not proofread whatsoever.

Breanna knew what she was doing was wrong. Every fiber of her being screamed it. She knew that by crossing this line, she was damning herself. Damning herself not just in the eyes of her parents, her church, or her peers, but in the eyes of God. The teachings she’d grown up with were clear: girls like her were not meant to love girls like Madison. They were meant to confess these urges and purge themselves of these sinful desires. Yet, here she was, on the precipice of something that could never be undone.

She knew, with bone-deep certainty, that if her mother—let alone her father—ever found out about what she was doing, she would be sent away. There would be no forgiveness, no understanding, only punishment. Maybe she’d be shipped off to one of those camps. Or perhaps they’d try to “pray the gay away” during one of the church’s all-night revival sessions. Either way, Breanna wouldn’t be allowed to stay.

She would be sent away.

Sent away from the one person who had ever truly seen her. Sent away from the only person who made her feel as though she wasn’t walking through life with a mask on, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Sent away from her first love, her real love. The one she’d never expected, and yet couldn’t deny.

But what if she wasn’t sent away? What if her secret remained? Could she live with it, knowing it defied everything she had been taught? What would it mean for her, and Madison, if they managed to keep this under wraps? Would the love they shared be worth the risk of eternal damnation?

⠀ ── ⠀

Rosewood, California, wasn’t exactly a place for people like Breanna. Not for a queer girl growing up under the suffocating expectations of the church. Certainly not for the daughter of Pastor Stewart, who led Rosewood Catholic Church with an iron grip on morality. In this small town, Breanna was not just Breanna Stewart. She was the Breanna Stewart—church princess, moral compass for others, and the girl who seemingly had it all figured out.

But no one knew about the unrest raging beneath her exterior. Not her father, her mother, or even Lucas—the boy she was supposed to be in love with.

Lucas was a nice enough guy, she supposed, but Breanna couldn’t help the gnawing emptiness she felt whenever he kissed her. There was no spark, no fire, only an odd sense of obligation. She tried to convince herself that this was just how things were meant to be. That she should feel lucky to have a good guy like Lucas, but deep down she knew it was a lie.

Because whenever she looked at her best friend, Madison, her heart surged in a way it never did for Lucas. The way Madison laughed, the way her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the way she smiled at Breanna like she was the most important person in the world—those things ignited something within her she could not deny.

Breanna had convinced herself for so long that she wasn’t gay. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. After all, being gay was a sin, and Breanna Stewart didn’t sin. At least, she wasn’t supposed to. But the feelings she had for Madison were impossible to ignore. She could push them down, try to hide them away, but they always resurfaced, stronger each time.

And tonight, they were about to come to a head.

⠀ ── ⠀

Breanna knew that coming to this party was a terrible idea. She knew the moment she stepped through the door that she should’ve turned around and gone home.

She had told herself she would stay for an hour, just long enough to show her face and then leave before anything went too far. But somehow, she found herself drawn into a circle of friends playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, a game she had heard about but never dared to play. Not with Madison sitting right next to her, her best friend, her not-so-secret crush.

Now, she was about to enter that dark, claustrophobic closet with Madison. Seven minutes. Alone. With the one person, she had forbidden herself from ever thinking about this way. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stood up to go inside, the air in the room feeling thick and oppressive.

“This is a bad idea,” Breanna thought, over and over again. But her feet kept moving, carrying her forward. She told herself it was just a game, just an innocent little game. She could kiss Madison, prove to herself that it wasn’t all that. Prove to herself that this was nothing more than a phase.

“Kiss her once, show yourself how horrible it is. Then you’ll never crave it again,” Breanna whispered under her breath as they stepped inside the cramped space together.

But the moment Madison’s arm brushed against hers, doubt crept in. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down Breanna’s spine. The familiar scent of Madison’s perfume filled the small closet, making it hard to breathe.

What if this wasn’t as bad of an idea as she had convinced herself? What if kissing Madison wasn’t a mistake, but rather, the thing she had been denying herself for so long? What if, instead of pushing her further away, this kiss brought them closer together?

She swallowed hard, torn between the pull of desire and the fear of losing everything she had built with Madison.

“Just a quick kiss,” Breanna murmured, the words barely a whisper, her voice unrecognizable to her own ears. Madison’s eyes widened in surprise, searching Breanna’s face for any sign of uncertainty.

“Are you sure?” Madison asked, her voice soft but filled with concern, her breath warm against Breanna’s cheek.

Breanna nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yeah. Just this once.”

Madison hesitated for a moment, and then leaned in. Their lips met softly at first, a gentle touch that sent a shockwave through Breanna’s entire body. Her breath hitched, and for a second, she thought about pulling away. But something deeper took over, and before she knew it, the kiss deepened.

Time seemed to stop. There was no party, no game, no world outside of this kiss. There was only Madison. And as their lips moved together, slow and tentative at first, then more confident, Breanna felt something ignite within her that she hadn’t known was there.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Breanna knew in that instant that this wasn’t just a moment of weakness. This wasn’t a mistake to be buried and forgotten. This was the beginning of something far bigger, something she could no longer ignore.

It wasn’t a sin. It was love. And love, no matter what they said, couldn’t be wrong. Could it?

#♡︎ — erin’s works #breanna stewart x oc #wnba x reader #wbb x reader #wbb x oc #wnba x oc #lgbtq #breanna stewart x reader

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 2 months ago

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John Hagee American Pastor

Those lips, hips and face, body is all over the place.

Damn… what wouldn't give for a afternoon alone with Pastor Hagee to pound a few things out.

Of course, he may not approve.

#john hagee #televangelist #handsome daddy #cilf #husky daddy #daddy #silverfox #celebrities #chubby daddy #casual dress #eye glasses #religious figures #dsls #jewelry & watches #hands

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queerprayers · 5 months ago

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hello, i've recently come across more accounts similar to yours and they have really helped me feel closer to God. so for starters i appreciate you and everything you have to say is very insightful. i am new to Christianity (looking into Catholicism) but i have struggled with my relationship with God for a few years as i am queer. Anyway, all of that is not entirely related to my question. as i wasn't raised religious, i have done some things that i am not proud of that i hope won't ruin God's love for me. for example, i have said stuff that could be considered "taking the Lord's name in vain" such as saying "oh my god", "jesus christ", etc. do you think that is actually taking his name in vain? truthfully, i have been trying to cut down regardless as i love God and mean no offense but it's hard as i have said words carelessly in the past. i apologize for the longer text!!

Welcome, beloved, I'm so glad you're here!

This is always such an interesting topic and I'm sure I won't do it justice, but I'll try to answer your question. The third commandment has been oversimplified for a lot of Christians, and I do think we should take it seriously—but when we caught up with people saying "omg" casually, we miss a lot.

"Taking the Lord's name in vain" can encompass quite a bit: cursing God, swearing on God falsely (in the sense of making promises you don't keep), treating sacred things with disrespect, using God for your own gain, using God to justify evil actions, claiming God's name for harmful theologies—really anything that profanes/using hollowly/for profit the name/essence/qualities of God. "Name" is more than language—it's a presence. So is the third commandment addressing casualness with religious language? I don't think that's what it's specifically interested in, and because the Ten Commandments functioned communally/legally more than personally I'm inclined to say it's concerned more with the promise type of swearing and temple rituals, but I do think the philosophies behind these large things can be brought down to the personal language level, especially for those of us who aren't ancient Israelites.

An old anecdote from my church is that for years they had a plain wooden cross in the sanctuary, but my childhood pastor had a crucifix put up. (This was before I was born, and I'm so thankful I got to grow up with a full, embodied cross rather than an empty one.) An old lady stopped in her tracks that morning, staring up above the altar, and said "Oh my god." The pastor said, "That's right, he is." Besides being used to poke fun at this lady (who had probably never encountered traditional art of the crucifixion in her rural Protestant life) and as a justification for having a crucifix (to more fully confront God), it was also used by my mother to explain why we weren't allowed to say "oh my god" unless the situation necessitated it.

This has made me rethink some of the things I say—and I think there are lines here that we all have to draw. Many exclamations/curses are religious in nature (like damn or hell), and should we only say those when we mean the full essence of the thing? My mother thinks so, and I've gone back and forth. I think what we say matters, and carelessness should never be our framework. I also know that I don't get offended when people say things like "oh my god"—and I've definitely said it before, in way less necessary situations than confronting him bleeding.

When we look at all the things the third commandment can encompass, exclamatory swearing is surely at the bottom of the list in terms of what matters interpersonally and religiously. The megachurch pastor who uses God to sell things and the abuser who uses religion as an excuse are much more relevant to me. This is about your attitude toward your faith, how you want your language to reflect that, and how seriously you take words that are really only translations of a human approximation of a theological truth.

A line I draw is "Jesus" vs. "God"—one is the personal name of my god, and one is more of a title. I don't swear using Jesus's name, but I've dropped an "oh my god." I'm also more likely to use religious exclamations in the face of things I genuinely care about—I'll say "oh my god" to something beautiful but am more likely to say "shit" when I drop something. Is this all arbitrary? Of course! But the language we treasure and the language we're less careful with always is.

I won't tell you where to draw your lines, but I will say the best way to approach any of it is to notice these things—which you definitely are! Whether or not we end up changing something, it's always good to be aware of what we say and how it could affect us. So ask those questions, think through it all. Don't let casualness make you forget the enormity of what we're talking about when we say "God," but also, turn to God with every emotion and in every situation. Don't bring religion into everything because you're being careless—do it because it's where you and the universe touch.

To answer another (and in my opinion more important) question you've asked, no, God's love for you isn't ruined. I don't care what you've said, what you haven't cared about, what you've done—God's love is incapable of being ruined. This would imply weakness or unfaithfulness, which our faith does not characterize God with. And Christianity is firm that it is never too late to repent—meaning, to turn around and dedicate yourself to not going back. (God's love reaches the unrepentant as well, of course—it is a matter of whether we can see it and move through it, not whether it's there.) Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand—as in, it's always been here, it's happening now within you and your communities, and it will arrive.

Whatever changes you make and journeys you begin, God's love goes with you—it's not something we work toward having, but something we work toward honoring. It is hard to change habits—it's hard to change anything, and your dedication to thinking about this new part of your life is admirable.

I want to say don't get caught up in the smallest possible meanings of the commandments as you continue into Christianity, but I love that you are and that's not really the advice I want to give. What I mean is more, don't let this be a barrier. Every tiny thing is part of our lives, which means they can trip us up, be things to obsess over, be things we focus on to avoid other things, be areas we become perfectionist when that energy could be used more usefully. I am contributing to harm in countless ways that don't include swearing, and to be an imperfect human in this world, you are too. I give you permission to not let this be the hill you die on. Christianity calls us to be willing to die on so many hills, y'know? The enormity of our dedication can be overwhelming, but we move forward knowing the love of God is on our side.

The sacred Name has only ever been put into human words in the form of Jesus, and meeting him in both the sacred and ordinary is how I honor the Word. As I navigate the countless ways I exist and affect and am in relationship with the world, I come back to that. That true holiness can never be profaned, so I must not act as if it can be. When I find myself acting as if God could be hollow, I know I must turn back. I may embody this idea differently than you and others—we cannot all pay attention to everything at once. But I honor your commitment to the small things, and I pray that you live confident in the knowledge that nothing you have done or will do can stop God from entering into communion with you.

<3 Johanna

#asks #me when I could give a yes or no answer (runs a secret third way)

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lorelaisdiary · 8 months ago

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Content warnings: reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, internalized misogyny, physical violence, abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of starvation, and child neglect.

Johnny Cade x Female! Reader - Sinners

Summary: You were stuck in a very religious household and were raised to believe that bad things would happen if you didn’t follow the rules set for you perfectly. When you meet Johnny Cade, an innocent boy who just wants what’s best for you, he shows you what affection and love is when given in a healthy dosage and not used in a detrimental way. When you finally open up to him about your family, Johnny decides he wants to get you out before something bad happens to you.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry that this took so long!! I’ve been experimenting and rewriting this to fix everything. I’ve also been going back and forth between multiple of my stories so I don’t burn myself out! I do genuinely wonder what churches and all were like back then. I know there was a LOT of cults back then which was what originally inspired this. I will be coming back to proofread this/fix any dialogue that doesn’t make much sense for Johnny. Also, please give constructive criticism!:)

Word count: 5.2K+

You were on your knees, murmuring a quick prayer. You didn’t want to be outcasted or damned for missing even one prayer and that was something that was beat into you as a child. You kept your hands clasped tightly together as you heard snickering coming from behind you.

You ignored it, knowing it was those boys that had come in randomly during the sermon. You stopped yourself from thinking anything bad about the people laughing. God told you that it wasn’t your place to judge and you trusted him. You wouldn’t judge the boys no matter how many cruel words they spoke.

You felt the tears before they even started to try and fall. You had stood up from the altar and wiped the tears away quickly, hoping no one saw you. The fear of being seen crying wasn’t too strong as everyone already called you overly sensitive so it didn’t matter much if they saw you crying. You went to sit back beside your family, who were all smiling at you as if you had done some good deed by praying.

In your eyes, that was the least of your good deeds. Why didn’t any of the other times get noticed? It wasn’t like it mattered that they didn’t because you weren’t supposed to be praised for doing the bare minimum but it was still upsetting.

A woman sitting beside you smiled down at you and nodded with no actual reason. Well, you thought she was saying hello without speaking. That’s how the people in your class said hello without ever speaking. You found it entertaining but never acted how they did because it was unladylike in every way.

You smiled at the woman and looked back to the preacher who was getting louder by the second. You crossed your arms as you licked your dry lips.

You would do anything to get out of the church but God wouldn’t appreciate you hating his love the way you were. You closed your eyes and looked down towards the ground as you began rapidly praying. Begging for forgiveness that you knew wouldn’t come easily, you felt your heart release the heaviness of your sins. You wouldn’t tell a soul of your true sins. The ones that keep you up late into the night; the ones that make you miss the days you would smoke cigarettes to calm yourself.

You heard the sermon slowly come to an end and you stood up without much thought as you walked into the aisle. Your parents followed you as you walked out of the church without speaking to anyone. Your mom followed you as she let out a sigh. “Your father needs to speak with the pastor so he said we could head on home.” She smiled as she placed a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!” She started leading you away from the church as you looked over your shoulder. A group of teenage boys had walked out of the building with one specifically watching you walk away.

Your eyes looked towards a random tree after making eye contact with the adorable boy. You thought he was handsome but you felt a certain disgust for feeling that. You were going to marry a man of your father’s choice. After all, he knew what men were like and would choose based on which man could provide for you and your future family.

Your mom pressed a kiss to your forehead as she held you tightly against her. “Do you want to start exercising more?” Your mom suddenly questioned aloud as she ran a hand through your hair. “I think we should go on more walks and get out of the house more. You’re homeschooled and have nothing else to do and I usually have our home cleaned with food on the table long before it’s needed.” She rambled on and on as you stopped.

Your house was in front of the two of you as you grabbed your mom’s hand from your shoulder and began leading her up the concrete pathway that paved the path you needed to take.

Your stomach growled angrily as you felt hunger pains spread throughout your stomach. When was the last time you ate? You couldn’t remember as you felt you still didn’t deserve to eat. You took a moment to look around your house. Your mom was trying to redecorate as much as possible for Easter. You were feeling disappointment that winter had almost ended and it was soon to be summer.

You enjoyed bundling up in the warmest of clothes while also having reason to light a fire in the fireplace. You felt your face flush as you looked in the mirror that was hung in the living room and noticed that the strap of your bra had slipped down your shoulder. Your mom watched as you pulled it up with a struggle.

“You know, you don’t have to panic when it’s just me. I have breasts, too.” You looked at her with the widest of eyes she’d or anyone had ever seen on you.

“Mom! It’s immodest to ever allow anyone to see anything that only a husband should see!” You snapped as you ran up to your room in fear of being seen as a… you couldn’t bring yourself to think the word.

You collapsed on your bed as sobs filled the empty space beside you. You were ashamed, hurt, sad. You couldn’t understand the emotions that flowed endlessly through your body.

You grabbed the comforter from the end of your bed and brought it up closer to you as you flipped and turned every which way to get comfortable. You grabbed the stuffed animal that laid beside you and hugged it close to you. You were tired and you didn’t want to be involved with anything else for that day. You had gone to church and you had prayed to God to get you out.

You closed your eyes as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

You grabbed the piece of toast off of your plate and licked your lips at the buttery taste. You were going to the library soon to find the second to the last book in a fantasy series that you had picked up.

You grabbed your purse and started to walk out of your house with a tired sigh leaving you. You wanted more sleep but you also wanted more time to yourself. Your dad had come home with another man. He told you the man was a pastor from a nearby church that wanted to talk about God with your family.

You walked down the broken sidewalk with a frown plastered on your family. You were nervous to be out in public without one of your parents with you as they told you a lot of bad people liked to prey on young girls such as yourself. It made you nervous to even look out the window some days with the things they told you.

You sped up as the wind blew a little harder against you. You were wearing a long dress that covered everything including your ankles while also covering your arms and shoulders. The dress was wildly blowing with the wind and for a good while, you thought you were going to fly away with the fallen leaves on the ground.

The buildings around you had gotten more abundant as you seen the library in the distance. You heard that same loud laughing that you heard whilst in the church which made you do a double take at the group of boys walking down the sidewalk.

Your eyes met with that of the boy who had puppy eyes. He was attractive but you forced yourself to look away from him as it was disgusting for you to feel attracted in any way to anyone until you were married. You crossed your arms and covered your breasts as you knew that your body was created to be distracting for men. You never wanted to tempt someone.

You happily pulled open the glass door to the library and walked in, feeling a sense of safety when you heard the door shut loudly behind you. You never enjoyed entering buildings. It was… terrifying for you.

You needed to find another book that would keep your thoughts solely on yourself and the characters. Your Bible had kept you pretty focused on living your life based on God but you couldn’t continue to read the same sentences over and over while pretending to completely understand the meaning.

Your eyes scanned the dozens of thick books that were laying with a layer of dust covering them. You grabbed one that had a slightly darker cover than the rest, reading the title before flipping the book over to read the back.

You heard the library door open and close loudly. You looked towards the noise and almost let out a gasp once you saw the boy with the puppy eyes. He was making eye contact with you.

You looked back down at the book that you were holding so tightly that your knuckles were white.

You watched as the boy approached you after a second, finally deciding to speak after a moment. “Uh… hey. I’m Johnny.” The boy finally sent you a shy little smile and you looked down.

“I’m R/n.” You stuck your hand out and the two of you shook hands. You were honestly shocked that he had even followed you into the library to talk to you. You felt your cheeks flush at the thought of him finding you so pretty that he wanted to talk to you.

“I saw you the other day at church and now you’re here…” Johnny’s voice sent something throughout you as he moved a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Oh, well I appreciate you approaching me but I only date to marry. If that is why you approached me.” You lied through your teeth and it made you feel bad. You weren’t allowed to date. Your parents only wanted you to marry a nice man who would do whatever so long as it meant that you were out of their house by eighteen.

“Oh…?” Johnny sounded confused as he looked up at you. You were wearing your heels and were standing only a few inches taller than he was.

“I don’t mind! Really. I- can we just be friends?” Johnny felt his stomach continue to wrap itself in loops as he broke eye contact and began staring uncomfortably at the ground.

“Yes. I would like that.” You gripped the book in your hand as you began walking to the librarian’s desk. She took your book from your hand and before you knew it, the book was slid across the desk back to you.

Johnny continued walking with you even when his friends started calling him over. You looked at Johnny with the smallest of smiles, “you can go hang out with them, if you want. My parents are strict and wouldn’t appreciate me being around a boy without them.” Your words confused Johnny as he knew parents could be protective but why were yours wanting to be around for every little moment? You were almost an adult woman and you still heavily relied on your family which, don’t get Johnny wrong, wasn’t a bad thing but it also wasn’t healthy.

“Okay. When can I see you again?” Johnny wanted to ask you out on a date but knew you’d reject him given the opportunity which you had.

“Well, I do want to go shopping soon so if you want to come then?” You tilted your head to the left slightly, eyes staring back at Johnny’s with a certain glint in them.

“Yeah, that works.” Johnny murmured as he stared at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

“Well, meet me at the Summit tomorrow at twelve.” You smiled as Johnny nodded before he began walking back towards his friends.

You stared helplessly after him, feeling as if you were doing the wrong thing by allowing him to walk off like that.

You let out a sign and continued your adventure home.

“R/n? Are you done?” Your father peeked into your room to ask if you were done reading the Bible. You felt that you were as you had memorized almost every verse you were given. It was mind boggling how you could remember such complex things but forgot simple things such as how to cook a chicken breast. Maybe that’s why your parents cared so much about finding you a husband. You were still excited about the prospects of receiving love and giving it back to someone but that excitement had died down a lot since you’d seen Johnny that day at the library.

“Yes, sir.” You responded as you looked out the window. Rain was clinging to the glass as if it was its life force. You found it fascinating how the drops would hit the window and stick only for them to slowly slide down. It was a cycle that was endless and so fun to watch. Your father left you alone as you heard the thumping of his shoes on the stairs. You tried to ignore the feeling of random sadness that you had started to feel. New emotions were appearing now that you had the slightest taste of freedom.

You were excited, nervous, sad, happy, etc. all because of a boy that you would never ever get to be with in any capacity. You looked at your clock on the wall and stood up, deciding it would be better for you to go get a snack and then take a short cat nap after just to get some of your energy back.

You let out a sigh as you walked down the stairs and came face-to-chest with your father.

“What’s wrong, R/n?” He lifted a hand up only for you to walk past him quickly. You were nervous. You didn’t want to speak to your father as he would only make those feelings intensify. You sat down at the kitchen table with a frown appearing on your features.

Your mom looked at you with the smallest of smiles playing at her lips. Your plate was already made and placed down in front of you. You didn’t immediately start to eat as your father came into the kitchen and sat down at the head of the table. Your eyes watched his every move, a certain anger filling you as you watched your parents turn to each other and began a conversation.

Why did they get to do whatever they wanted, even when it counted as a sin, yet when you do something, you're deemed a demon. A sinner who will never see the pearly gates of heaven. Your mouth stayed sealed as you felt the anger dissipate into thin air as guilt overtook every other emotion. Those were your parents. They never sinned even when you believed they did because you were uneducated and you didn’t understand the Bible as much as they did.

“I met a boy today.” You finally spoke, deciding to tell your parents the truth. God would want you to tell them the full, honest truth.

Your mom leaned forward with a smile on her face, “oh, tell me about him! Is he a God fearing man? Does he understand that you aren’t willing to be intimate until marriage? What about the church's rules? Does he know them?” Your stomach twisted at your mom’s words. You closed your eyes before starting to slowly answer all of her questions.

“He is. He goes to church. I did tell him that and he was okay with it. I haven’t mentioned the rules yet.” You whispered out as you sat up a bit straighter.

Your mom had a look of excitement on her face as she started talking while your father leaned back in his chair. “You’ll have to speak with brother David.” You hated calling everyone your brother and sister. It was unfair and disgusting when people began marrying each other within the church. You thought you were all brothers and sisters. You shuddered but nodded finally.

“Okay, but I never said that I wanted to be with him.” You responded as you picked your fork up and scooped some of the mashed potatoes up onto your fork. They were creamy and perfect. You continued shoveling the food into your mouth while your mom talked to your father.

“Our daughter is growing up. Next thing we know, she’s going to be in the hospital delivering our first grandchild.” Your stomach cramped with the pain of imaginary childbirth. That pain soon drifted to your lower body as you crossed your legs with the pain finally disappearing as you stopped thinking about it.

You would hold off on giving birth for as long as you possibly could.

“She won’t be doing anything until she speaks to brother David.” Your father reiterated what he had said before and you leaned back into your chair. Well, you at least had your mom’s permission to find a lover. You also remembered the numerous conversations where he had told you that he would choose a husband for you, because you weren’t smart enough to pick a good man.

You finished the food on your plate and stood up from the table as you decided you would wash your own plate. You didn’t want to stay at the dinner table any longer than you already had. That was a waste of time in your opinion.

You let out a sigh and walked to the kitchen, scraping the leftover food off of your plate before setting the plate and fork on the countertop and turning the sink on. You loved playing within the soapy bubbles that always spread rapidly once the soap was added. It smelt good and made you feel good. It made you feel clean.

You grabbed the sponge off of the holder that kept it out of the sink. You added a little soap to it before setting the plate into the sink and washing it. By the time you were finished, you had wanted to go to sleep. You grabbed the towel that you and your mom normally used to dry the dishes and quickly wiped the water off.

You opened the cabinet and you slid the plate into its normal place. “Hey, R/n? How much do you want for your allowance?” Your mom yelled to you and you wiped your hands onto your floral dress as you quickly started to walk towards your mom. Your heels clicked on the floor of your home as you caught sight of your parents who were still sitting in the kitchen.

“I don’t mind but I do really want that (favorite colored) dress that has (favorite design) on it.” You looked at your mom before your father pulled his wallet out and pulled a few dollars out. It was more than enough for you to buy the dress.

“Thank you, father.” You wrapped your arms around your father excitedly. You couldn’t remember a time where you felt so happy about receiving money. Usually, you would argue some and hope that they kept whatever money it was that they were trying to give. When it came to the man who had a helping hand in your creation, you didn’t care much. You enjoyed taking money from him and reminding him of your existence otherwise, he wouldn’t remember you past being at church.

You started making your way back to your room, hoping that you could meet that Johnny boy again. Hopefully he would be willing to meet up with you again so you could talk further than you anxiously speaking words that shouldn’t have ever been spoken in the same sentence. You wished you wouldn’t have lied and told him that you date to marry.

You needed human interaction to survive. You loved being with some of your close friends while doing anything at all. You couldn’t care less what the interaction you had was so long as you weren’t alone.

You started walking back up onto the stairs as you thought about how you could get into contact with Johnny once more. You made it to the top of the stairs and your eyes landed on the cross that hung above the staircase. You smiled as you murmured the lightest of prayers, and went back up to your room to pick an outfit out for your day out tomorrow. You wanted to impress Johnny and make him see you in a light that made you seem almost innocent. Men only wanted innocent and modest women.

You picked out a dress that had long sleeves and went down to the floor. You would wear your heels and it would make the dress reach close to your ankles. You set the dress onto the chair in the corner of your room.

You changed into a more comfortable outside before brushing your teeth and hair.

Soon after, you were in your bed and whispering prayers to God, hoping he would bless you with the prospects of love.

You were up and eating breakfast with your stomach twisting into knots. Your mom didn’t mention the slight shake of your hands and she didn’t mention how you were dressed up with makeup and all. She didn’t want him to realize and keep you home instead of letting you go out with your friend.

“Thank you for the money.” You grabbed the orange juice and took a sip from it as your mom looked at you with a smile. Your father had a slight smile but he it didn’t reach his eyes.

You were quick to leave your house, knowing you would be an hour or so early for whatever was going to happen with Johnny. You wiped your hands onto your dress and started walking slowly. You could take the time to admire your surroundings instead of trying to book it to meet up with Johnny.

He would probably be late anyways as all of the men you knew were rarely on time without a woman forcing them to get up and out of the door before a specific time. You meant no harm to Johnny but he didn’t seem like the kind of man to have someone doing that for him.

More often than not, he had dirt on his face and always seemed dirty. You would fix that, of course. You made sure to pack a small jar of water along with a handkerchief to make sure that he would get clean.

You looked around at the trees with a small smile on your face. Animals were casually running around and happily avoiding you as if their lives depended on it. Though, in hindsight, you were technically a danger to the animals mostly because humans killed them so often.

You noticed the Summit was quickly approaching within your line of vision and you quickened your pace so you could sit somewhere and wait for Johnny.

You entered the building and a shocked expression overtook your features as you tilted your head. Johnny was sitting on one of the benches and was pulling at something in his pocket. “Johnny?” You smiled as you realized he was early without you even having to ask him.

Johnny stood up and held a hand out for you as you gave him a grin. “I didn’t want to be late so I left a little earlier…” Johnny’s voice held that southern accent that made you smile. You had lived in the south your entire life but for majority of it, you lived in Utah so your accents were slightly different.

“That’s why I came early, too. Well, come on! We need to get into the shops before everyone else gets in.” You noticed the dirt had been wiped away but the grease in his hair was prevalent still.

You didn’t mind though as the two of you started walking together. “I… I’m sorry if I came off as overbearing last time. I never meant to come off like that.” You whispered out as you walked a little quicker just in case he didn’t react well to your words.

“You didn’t. I just wasn’t ready for it.” Johnny caught up with you and gave you the shyest smile you had ever seen.

“Oh… okay.” You pulled open the glass door, a smile present on your face as you walked into the building. You held the door open for Johnny with a grin on your face. You seen him pause for a moment before he walked into the store you wanted to go in. His eyes shifted from dress to dress without much thought behind his eyes.

“Oh, they still have it!” You smiled as you rushed to grab the dress that you originally wanted. You held the dress up and gave Johnny the most innocent smile he had ever seen in his life.

You skimmed through the sizes and chose yours, holding the dress under your arm as you waved an employee down. “Hi! I was wondering if you could let me into one of the dressing rooms?” You asked with a shy smile on your face.

The woman immediately nodded as the two of you began walking towards the dressing rooms. You peaked over your shoulder and saw Johnny was slowly following too. You would need to make sure he didn’t feel awkward after showing him the dress.

“My sister loves this dress. She actually cut the sleeves off because she thought it looked cuter and it really does!” The employee smiled at you and your eyes sparkled.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I may have to do that before the summer months hit.” You laughed as the woman opened the dressing room door. She closed it after you and you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You were gorgeous.

You slipped out of the dress you were in and slid into the other dress with a smile on your face. The dress was beautiful on you and really made you look ten times better than you ever thought you would look. You always assumed the very worst of anything especially when it came to clothes.

You opened the door of the dressing room and gave Johnny a small smile as you showed him your dress. “I think it looks pretty on me. What about you?” You asked softly as you turned slightly to show him the back of the dress even though it was the same as the other countless dresses you had.

“It looks very beautiful on you.” Johnny gave you a small, breathless smile as he looked you up and down. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him as you decided you wanted to give him physical affection.

It wasn’t unnatural for you to want to give people hugs as that was your love language. You slowly let go of the man and went back into the dressing room with a smile on your face. You kissed Johnny’s cheek with the softest smile on your face. You let go of Johnny completely and backed away with your lipstick stains stuck on Johnny’s face.

You walked back into the dressing room and changed back into your other dress as you quickly wanted to make it back to Johnny on the other side of the door. “Hey, Johnny? Can you come in here?” You weren’t going to be undressed in front of Johnny as you had a shirt underneath the dress because you thought of every situation, including having Johnny help you.

Johnny slowly opened the door of the dressing room and came in before closing it with his foot. “What do you need help with?” Johnny asked quietly as he kept his eyes to the ground.

“Can you zip the dress up?” You turned around and smiled as you felt his hand make contact with the shirt on your back. You heard and felt the zipper get pulled up.

You turned around and you both exited the dressing room only for you to see one of your friends from the church standing in line. You grabbed Johnny’s hand and quickly scampered away from the dressing room so she wouldn’t tell your parents that the two of you were alone in the dressing room together.

You let go of Johnny’s hand and you both stood together in the line to pay. Now, you only wanted to get out of the store and the Summit in fear of your parents finding out that you were with a boy. Your parents knew that you had gone out with a man but they didn’t know who it was and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want them to unnecessarily judge him for being less fortunate than your family.

“I was thinking that we could get something to eat afterwards?” You looked at Johnny with the biggest smile on your face.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” Johnny mumbled out as he kept his stare at the floor. You were slightly upset that he was so shy but then again, it still made you feel happy/giddy to know that he even wanted to spend time with you, anyways.

“That is what I want and I’ll pay for anything you want.” You smiled as the cashier suddenly caught your attention. You set your dress down on the counter and paid before leaving with Johnny.

You wanted to go to one of the higher end diners that you knew of but Johnny didn’t seem comfortable with the idea so you let him choose a place. He settled on a place that was in a rougher spot in town but nothing the two of you couldn’t get through. You knew that you would get something that would be easy on the stomach so that when you got home, you would also be able to eat supper with your family.

Johnny was standing in front of you with the door to the diner held open. You smiled at him as you felt a yawn creeping up from the back of your throat. You were so tired but knew that you had gotten enough sleep so being tired didn’t make much sense. “Oh, I’m so excited. I’ve never been here before.” You made a comment before realizing that could be taken in a different way. How would the upper middle class/wealthy girl ever end up in the bad part of town with everyone else? She wouldn’t unless she was with someone who knew the bad part of town.

You sat down at a booth and Johnny followed before you started talking. You were rambling on and on. Johnny allowed you to do so and didn’t bother to add anything into the conversation besides the occasional “yeah” or “okay”. You sheepishly smiled at him after rambling and he finally spoke, “do you want something to eat?” Johnny didn’t have a lot of money and he never thought he’d be in a situation where he would need it to make a girl feel like he genuinely likes her.

“Yeah but I’ll pay! I have more than enough money for the both of us. If you want, I can slip the money to you so you don’t feel embarrassed.” You gave Johnny a genuine smile as you leaned back against the booth seat. You grabbed the money from within your purse and nodded at Johnny to grab it from under the table. You didn’t want others to shame him even more for “making” the girl pay.

You cared deeply about societal norms and everything that came with it but you also knew that you wanted to have a lover before you became old and barren. You didn’t want to lose your ability to have children before you even had a chance to have a lover.

You watched as Johnny took the money from you with a frown on his face. You grabbed two menus from the holder on the back of the table and handed one to him. “Oh, I want a salad.” You smiled at Johnny with your cheeks turning a light shade of red. You didn’t want him to see you as anything other than an attractive woman. Anything else would be considered unfair to you as you always worked and tried to present yourself as a respectable and honest young woman.

“I want a hamburger…” Johnny’s voice had gotten more confident and you were proud of that. It must’ve meant that he was comfortable around you.

You nodded at him before speaking, “oh, I enjoy hamburgers but I love myself a nice salad.” You looked down at your stomach and Johnny watched as you subconsciously sunk down into the booth at the sight of your own stomach. You forced the frown off of your face and looked back up at Johnny.

“You know, I would love to go to the library soon. If you’d like, you can come with me…” you were nervous. You had never asked a man to go on a second date with you. That was when the realization hit you that this most likely wasn’t a date and he considered the two of you only friends. You played with your fingers under the table and cursed yourself slightly as you understood that caused it.

You let out a sigh as your thoughts started making you second guess everything. You liked Johnny but you felt almost as if you were using him. You decided then that you wanted to spend more time with Johnny.

You finally end wrapped your arms around yourself. You smiled at Johnny to make him less worried. You had noticed how his face fell slightly when you wrapped your arms around yourself and you felt guilty for being selfish. Everything was so awkward now that the two of you were alone with one another.

Soon enough, a waitress had stopped by y’all’s table to take your orders and you both gave your orders before you looked back at Johnny. “I’m sorry if this is awkward. I’ve tried to make everything less awkward but I feel like I’ve made it worse.” You laughed quietly and apologized softly.

You never wanted to make him uncomfortable and you felt that you had. “You didn’t! You… come off as a little strong but that’s fine.” You heard Johnny speak up, this time louder than any time before.

You leaned back in the seat and let out a sigh, knowing that you were going to go home and cry.

You were laying in bed with tears rolling down your cheeks. Your parents knew that you were out with Johnny and they knew that he had come into the dressing room with you. You were forced into your room and told that you wouldn’t be allowed to eat for a week and after that, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Johnny again.

You were glad that you ate before you came home and you knew that your mom would slip you snacks through the door when your father wasn’t looking. You were ashamed as you knew that everything you done was wrong. You not only hurt your parents but you angered God.

You had turned your back on the only thing that loved you for you. You felt yourself choke back another sob as you stared at the ceiling with tears rolling down your face. You grabbed a pillow and covered your face as you got off your bed. Your father was yelling downstairs and you knew the way to get your punishment over quickly.

You opened the door to your room and began walking down the stairs, understand that you would be in plenty of pain by the time it was all over. You understood that you deserved what your father was going to do to you and you were terrified. You didn’t want to be hurt but you also understood that you had to be hurt in one way or another.

It was the only way to receive God’s forgiveness for your sins.

Your feet hit the bottom of the stairs and you walked into the living room, looking at your parents. Your mom’s eyes widened and she immediately told you to go back to your room. You were sobbing again and your mom tried to reach you only for your father to physically throw her onto the couch.

Your father grabbed you by your shoulder and began forcing you towards the basement. It would only take five minutes, right? That was the usual time it took for you to finish all the punishments. You were silent throughout the ordeal as you knew that nothing you said would do anything. He would tell you to shut your mouth and you’d be punished longer than you would had you just kept your mouth shut.

You were forced onto the ground on top of a tarp-like surface that would catch any liquids that would fall during the interaction that was about to take place.

You didn’t want to fight back much as you had once before and your nose had been broken for it. You were embarrassed to admit that you stopped fighting back after that. On top of that though, God wouldn’t want you to fight back. He would want you to take whatever was given to you with grace.

You heard everything before you felt the physical pain from what you assumed to be your father’s belt.

You were close to sobbing by the third hit but your reminded yourself that you needed food. You could take quite a few hits before your body gave out but to go without eating for a week, it wasn’t something you wanted to do.

Soon enough, your father had left the basement and left you on the ground with tears in your eyes. You would never do this to your future children. Not even in the name of God.

It was too painful for you to even breath that second so why would you ever do something so heinous to someone else especially when it hurt you. You let out a silent sob as you slowly lifted yourself off of the floor. You looked at the ground and noticed the dark liquid that had formed from what happened. You gritted your teeth and began walking up the stairs, tears welling in your eyes as you struggled to walk up the stairs.

You opened the basement door and let out a choked sound before you almost slipped. You groaned as you weakly made your way to your room.

You almost let out a yell as you saw Johnny sitting on your bed with his eyes widening the second he saw you. “What happened to you?” He stood up and you closed your door quickly and slid your dresser in front of it.

You almost gave out as you covered your mouth to silence your scream. You sat down on your bed and shut your eyes tightly. Johnny put a hand on your thigh and gently tapped it as he watched your face change from one to pain to one of fear. “This is a sin.” You hissed out between clenched teeth.

“It’s not. You’re not a sinner because I touch you.” Johnny wrapped his arms around you and you let out another choked sob as you began to take your clothes off in front of Johnny.

“Help me…” your voice cracked as you begged him for help. You didn’t want to be physically hurt anymore. You couldn’t do it. “My father done this because we were in the dressing room together.” Johnny watched as you finished taking off your dress. You had since taken off the shirt underneath and Johnny was both in awe and disgust at the wounds. He’d never seen wounds so deep in a woman.

Johnny got up and begin searching your room, finding tape and an old shirt that seemed dirty. Johnny ripped the shirt and began gently tapping your wounds with it. “I’ll get you out of here. I fuckin’ promise to get you out of here.” He gave you a look of pure anger as you let out a whimper when he hit one of the wounds just right.

“Why do you got tape?” You whispered out as you tried to focus on anything and everything other than the fact that the boy you just got beat over was holding tape and cleaning your wounds.

“It’s nothin’. What’s your favorite book?” Johnny asked as he finished up with whatever he was doing.

You were already talking, hoping that you could somehow forget about the pain that came from each and every touch on your back.

“Edgar Allan Poe is my favorite author and I can’t choose between all of his books but I’d say The Raven is the best of them all.” You whispered out through gritted teeth. You finally felt Johnny gently pull your shirt down. You heard someone walking up the stairs and you immediately pushed Johnny into your closet.

Someone tried to open your door but was abruptly stopped by the dresser in front of it. “R/n? Baby, are you okay?” Your mom’s voice came through the door but you looked down at the ground.

“You said you’d talk to him about the no food thing.” Your voice cracked as you moved to sit down on your bed. You were… tired. That wasn’t the exact word for what you were feeling but it was oddly similar to what you were feeling. You thought that you wouldn’t ever grow tired of living the life that you were given but you had. The bruises were always painful and he never said sorry for all the physical and mental/emotional pain he caused both you and your mom.

Your mom had no reason to stay with him and she had no reason to fear him. She came from a wealthy family which is how your family even managed to stay in such an expensive house. Your father, a bank teller, didn’t make much and wouldn’t have been able to afford the home you lived in without your grandpa.

Your mom walked away from your room, the quietest of sobs leaving your mom. You felt terrible and felt like you were being too harsh on your poor mom. Your father “disciplined” her as well though her punishments were usually worse than yours and if she ever stood up against him for you, he would beat her until she was near death.

Johnny wanted to say something, anything but he couldn’t physically bring himself to speak. It was an awful feeling for the two of you as you sat silently in your room. You finally looked over at Johnny with a weird look on your face. “How did you get into my room?” Your voice sounded rough around the edges, breaking with every other word.

“I climbed the tree?” Johnny looked at you with a small blush coating his cheeks. You looked out your window and looked at the tree, looking back over at Johnny right after.

“I… didn’t know that was possible.” You heard Johnny stop all movement and you decided that you wanted to get sleep but you didn’t want to be alone. “I know we don’t really know each other but can you stay for a bit? My father won’t bother me for a few days and my mom will come by tomorrow afternoon.” You whispered out as you looked over at Johnny. Your nerves were absolutely on fire as you waited for his answer.

“Yeah, I can.” Johnny got off the bed and turned your light off after you asked him to stay, seeing the tiredness in your eyes. You blindly laid down on your bed and reached to grab the blanket on your bed. You were far too tired to fight with anything or anyone. You just wanted to get a few hours of sleep without being interrupted.

“I’m going to go to sleep. You can stay up and do whatever just be a little quiet because my parents will try to come in if you make too much noise.” You closed your eyes as you silently mumbled a prayer. You couldn’t clasp your hands together or get down on your knees as the pain was far too intense for you to move much.

All the adrenaline you had had disappeared by the time you settled back down into your bedroom. Johnny paused in front of you and your bed with hesitation creeping up. He didn’t want to get in bed with you in fear of you pulling away from him.

You moved over slowly and patted the bed beside you, understanding his fear of not wanting to be in bed with you. You felt the bed dip as he got in beside you and you wrapped your arms around one of your pillows and brought it down to your stomach.

You curled around it and closed your eyes as tightly as you could. Your parents wouldn’t come back to your room well into the next day and you were okay with that as you knew your mom would most likely try to make things “right” by bribing you with food or something else she knew you would enjoy.

Your father would only give you a dirty look, making sure you knew he and the men at the church all knew of your sins. Your mom would never gossip because she said that was one of the easiest sins to commit. Your father, on the other hand, loved to tell the other men about how he punished you. You had heard him go into detail about it and it made you feel upset.

Your cheeks was stained with the tears you shed earlier. You were slightly embarrassed to admit that you still cried over the things that happened. You were always told that you would grow out of being sensitive but with every passing day and birthday, you realized you wouldn’t. You still cried over the smallest of things and you couldn’t control the tears once they started. You felt that it wasn’t the biggest issue that you could have and yet, everyone else felt the opposite. They treated you differently based solely on the fact that you were a tad bit more sensitive than they were.

Your blanket was rapidly warming up as you kept it pinned tightly around you, feeling only the slightest bit of guilt for Johnny when you felt his body release a small shake. “Are you cold? Get under here with me.” You moved over and held the blanket up for Johnny to get in with you. You didn’t want to wait for very long so when he moved slower than you wanted, you blindly reached a hand out and pulled him into your bed with you.

His body hit your bed with a thump and you smiled as you turned to face the wall. You didn’t want to bother him or make him feel uncomfortable so you pushed yourself against the wall with an almost silent hiss as your back made full contact with something. You turned onto your stomach and closed your eyes with your body relaxing. You weren’t tired, not really but you needed more sleep especially after what happened.

“I’ll get you out of here. I swear to it.” Johnny whispered out from behind you into the silence of your bedroom.

You laughed quietly as you shook your head. “You can’t and that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with what’s happening. This is God’s plan.” You shifted and let your foot slip out from under the blanket that shielded you from the outside world.

“This ain’t God’s plan. Man, if God wanted you to be hurt, wouldn’t he just do it himself?” Johnny asked you with a frown on his face. You couldn’t see it but you knew he wasn’t happy with you or the situation.

“I don’t know. God has people on Earth and he uses them to punish.” You responded only for Johnny to wrap an arm around you. He knew he needed comfort after being beat by his folks and assumed you would need/want that same comfort. You never did want that comfort mostly because the only people in your house was the ones who caused the pain in the first place. On top of that, the likelihood of your father stepping off of his high horse and trying to comfort you was almost as likely as seeing a unicorn.

It just wasn’t possible. He believed he was above you and your emotions which, in God’s eyes, he was. You weren’t supposed to complain as that was wrong too. Everything you had been doing as of late was wrong and you were ashamed to admit that you had willingly done most of it.

You felt the arm that was around you tighten around you more as your body shook with the silent sobs that left you. You had been so strong up until that point and now you couldn’t be strong. You were weak and would never live up to the person your parents seen when they looked at you. You were absolutely disgusting.

You closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

You were woken up by someone shaking you gently. “You need to get up.” It was Johnny. He was trying to get you up and out of bed. “Come on. Both your parents left and you needa get up. We gotta go.” Johnny finally picked you up off of your bed and put your feet onto the floor of your bedroom.

“Johnny, we can’t leave? They’re my family.” You whispered out as Johnny started putting your things into a small bag.

“My folks are like yours. They ain’t worth nothin’ if they’re hittin’ you.” Johnny looked at you and gestured around. You started putting clothes into the bag before zipping it up and letting Johnny force your dresser from its place in front of your door.

Johnny intertwined your hands together and led you downstairs where the two of you left the house that you were raised in. It was unnerving and really made you feel terrible.

** One Year Later **

You put the notepad into the pocket of your apron. You were waiting for Johnny to come in so he could walk you back to your shared apartment with him. “Hey, baby!” You heard his voice as the bell above the glass door rung, telling you that someone had come in.

“Hi, lovely.” You pressed a kiss onto his cheek as you waved for him to sit at the counter. You were proud of both yourself and your lover. You made it out of whatever hell you had started in. You’d gotten yourself a psychiatrist/psychologist which you couldn’t remember which one it was but you were getting the help that you desperately need.

“Your shift was good?” Johnny asked as you poured some beer into a glass cup. You were the only one running the diner and Johnny would pay and tip you for pouring him a cup. You didn’t need that tip from him as the two of you shared finances but if you didn’t somehow, you would appreciate it.

“It was fine. I seen a man who looked very similar to my father earlier. Thought he’d finally come back to hurt me.” You set the glass in front of him. You leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to Johnny’s cheek. You were feeling slightly relieved at the thought of your past life. You loved your parents more than anything but with the help of Johnny and a professional, you realized that God never wanted your father to beat you mercilessly.

You watched as Johnny took a sip of his beer. “We can afford for you to go to more of those sessions.” Johnny didn’t know much about your mental situation but he tried the best he could.

“Yeah, I know. He says I’m doing good for now. Says I’ve come a long way.” You walked around the counter and sat beside Johnny, laying your head on his shoulder. Your eyes were on the clock placed on the wall as you shook the thoughts from your head. “When you finish drinking that, we can leave. I’m closing tonight.” You stood up and watched as Johnny finished off the last of the beer.

He handed you the glass and you were quick to wash it. You were excited to go home and lay in bed with Johnny. You had never thought that you would be excited to just lay beside someone but once you and Johnny started to live the peaceful life, you were excited by the small things. You were looking forward to the future. To the days where you would get to see your future children running around.

You finished up with the cleaning and you began locking the diner up. “Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait to lay down and go to sleep.” You groaned out as you put the keys into your pocket. You would give them to Maryann in the morning when she came in. For now, you’d focus on the small family you had made for yourself that consisted of a healthier lifestyle, without the abuse.

Even if said abuse would haunt you for the rest of your life, you were at the very least, happy with yourself and the life you and Johnny had created.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #Johnny Cade x reader #x female reader #Johnny Cade x female reader #The outsiders x female reader #Johnny Cade #The outsiders fanfic #the outsiders au #horror au #potentially triggering #horror

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