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jisungchan · 19 days

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BAD RELIGION

pairings: na jaemin x afab!reader

warnings: blasphemy, oral (f receiving), misogyny, purity culture, hard use of gender roles, dubious content (bordering non-con)

a/n: i’m back🤞🏻pls send in ur asks and requests i feel shitty and need to write. make sure to check rules since they have changed!

born and raised, surrounded by ideology that made no sense to those who weren’t involved. skirts that went below your knees, paired with pitch black tights that left no doubt of how your family felt about ‘those’ teenage girls.

cross hanging from your neck, you felt as if you were crucified as well.

every. single. moment. was. gods.

it was not yours, no, never yours. it was the heavenly fathers, for him to decide your fate, not you, not anyone else. yet, it seemed twisted into men deciding it for you, rather than you for yourself.

life has seemed to regulate a new rule every year. when you were 12, you were not allowed to wear that nail polish.

13, no shorts that short!

14, no concealer!

15, a smack on the hand for even thinking of uttering a word of a shorter skirt!

16, a slap to the face for breathing words of sin to another being. as time continued, they just became stricter and stricter.

your mother only watching as her modesty prevailed— beauty in a sea of blood.

a bead of sweat rolled down your neck as it was heating up. the cramped bible study room not allowing for any breath to be shared unless it went up and above.

those shorts your parents hated would’ve been useful.

a pit formed in your stomach, how you dreaded such times. winter was okay with those unfashionable clothes, but heavens above, you couldn’t have fun in summer.

you left he class early, finishing your prayers as soon as you could. though none were sincere, there was one that was nearly the truth.

“please, father, give me your strength.” you didn’t desire strength or power. you just wanted summer shorts.

but, you knew what your mother would say.

“it’s impure!” her offended— almost scream-like voice resonated in your skull as you stepped on the pavement to head home. your legs were burning up. your neck still burned.

her hand slapping your neck, ushering you to stir faster.

your uncles would be visiting soon, why the hell weren’t you cooking faster?

now, as you walk home in the heat, you’re reminded again. this was not yours to choose, nor would it ever be. you had no idea of what surprise your father had planned for you at home.

he seems like everyone else. a churchboy, a gleaming smile, and that cross also hanging around his neck.

you felt your stomach churn, as you shook hands.

“my name is jaemin..” he muttered, through a smile. was that also gods smile? you didn’t know, or bother asking. he smiled and smelled like a god, is all you could register.

you replied with your name, releasing his hand as quick as it came. was he close with your father? oh, he was a family friend from what you could see.

“stop staring and go to the kitchen.” your father patted your shoulder, making your body stiffen. your necklace jingling as you walked into the kitchen.

stirring some mixture of whatever it was that your mom called it, you caught yourself before your mind could wander.

your ears listened diligently, catching bits and pieces of your father, his parents conversation. he seemed to stay quiet. it felt like a slap to the face hearing his mother brag on about jaemins girlfriend. or whatever she was— his mother described the woman being someone jaemin had a keen interest in.

you didn’t know it was you.

thus, the thoughts wandered. was he really so different? what was so different about him that it allowed this?

how could he have a loved one, wasn’t it gods choice? was that what liberation was?

after pressing enough dough into small balls for your mother, she pressed them on the stove, making them into flat tortillas. then, you had to go check on the slow cooker, was the meat ready?

then, your actions halted when you saw that man step into the kitchen, that same smile plastered on his face.

“I hope i’m not interrupting..” he chimed, walking over to your mother, “these look wonderful.. are you sure there’s nothing i can help you with?”

“oh, no honey! it’s my and my daughters duty to do this, please, i assure you, go sit back down with your father!” your mother ushered, patting him on his shoulder.

your mothers tone was so sweet, your finger almost twitched as you chopped some carrots. she was so willing to give her gratitude to anyone but you.

“if you say so, ma’am.” his eyes crinkled in interest, he knew your mother was going to say that. jaemin knew what families like yours were like. only hearing a daughter— he could already predict what they thought of you.

though the bible states everything is pure born, jaemin knew. he knew your parents thought you were tainted from both. why?

because the existence of a woman is a sin to those heavily involved in church.

he saw the way your eyes lingered on your mother, the way your knife slipped and you slit across your palm on accident.

“ow!” you reeled back, and instead of pain from your injury; jaemin saw it. the fear instilled by your parents- not the holy figure. your hand shook.

“oh..” your mother feigned faux concern, nearly shoving you to the sink to clean your wound, “she’s just so clumsy, isn’t she?”

you felt a lump in your throat. though you tried as you might, you could feel your throat tighten, the space seeming more cramped. you grabbed a towel, running off to the bathroom.

jaemin didn’t miss a beat. following after your panicked state, he watched as you closed the door. you didn’t lock it. his eyes narrowed, smile faltering.

you really had his interest this time.

you were so interesting— pure as ever. the way the blood trickled, he could only imagine.

his hand on the doorknob, he checked to see how far he was from the table. though, even if he was close, he doubts your parents would care.

they were so willing in handing you off without your knowledge.

your eyes widened in panic as he walked in.

“w-what are you doing here!?” your voice was meek, scared. he liked that. jaemins smile returned, as he went behind you.

“you didn’t lock the door. I figured you needed help anyway. that wound looks.. pretty bad.” his voice was smooth, calm. though his eyes were at the wound, his calm smile prevailed.

you didn’t say anything in response, even as he was behind you. his arms reached over, moving your non wounded hand away.

“I’ll help.” you paused, only making it easier for him. his soft hands were cleaning your wound.

you felt heat rise to your cheeks, averting your gaze nervously. he chuckled softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“why.. is your head there?” you inquired, as his warm body was now even closer. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the way your heart beat.

“it gives me a better view, when i’m standing like this.” his response was plain and simple, you couldn’t fault him for it. maybe it really did give him a better view.

your lips parted to protest, but his movements had no intent of malice. if you did protest, it would show how impure your thoughts truly were.

“th-thank you.” you muttered, as he stepped back. you patted the wound with the towel, hissing softly.

“no biggie.. after all, you’re…” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“…hurt.” he finished. he wanted to confess and say ‘mine’, since— your parents did say that. but, he felt that letting you find out on your own would be better.

he softly grabbed your waist, moving your body to sit on the toilet lid.

he looked in the drawers, pulling out the first aid kit. he kneeled, your body was so warm. you were too shy to say anything when he grabbed you in such a way.

you looked away, as he wraps the bandage tape around the palm of your hand.

“it’s a shame this happened,” he mumbled through focus. “since you have such nice hands.”

you felt your blood rush. you weren’t complimented often, never so freely either. he said it with such ease, he genuinely meant it.

jaemin peaked up at you, curiousity in your gaze, possession in his.

“never been complimented like that before?” he probed, closing the first aid kit.

“n..no.” you managed to stammer out. he made you feel nervous, looking down at your hand.

he laughed softly, kneeling back down. he grabbed your hands with his, his chin resting on your covered thighs. this was strange— he was strange! it was too much, you just met him and he’s doing all of this!

“I think i’m fine now. we should get back out there, your parents will start to won-“ he tugged your hands softly yet with enough force that it lunged your body down.

“no. they’ll be fine. i’m pretty sure your parents don’t want to see you after that anyway. what’s the rush?”

he was right. your parents would be upset if you did come back out. silence hung over you and jaemin, as you just stared into his eyes.

“did your parents tell you?” jaemin suddenly broke the silence.

“tell me what?” you pulled back, sitting normally again.

you didn’t even notice how much closer he was getting to your heat, the way he’d rubbed his cheek on your thighs.

“…that you belong to me now.”

your eyes widened in so many emotions— shock, horror, surprise, anger. most of all.. betrayal. all those years of punishments, slaps… your knuckles red and swollen from the ruler smacking down on them at church; just to be given to a man you didn’t know.

maybe he just wanted to scare you, but you couldn’t say anything. the worst part is— he wasn’t lying. you knew, at some point..

you’d be like your mom, given to a man.

“no words, hm? I guess I’d feel that way too..” he mutters, his voice full of pity but his eyes full of something else.

“you know, our heavenly father is watching over us in heaven. jaemins tone was mocking, nearly taunting you.

“do you think he chose this fate for you? all those years of devotion, all wasted because you’re someone’s property now.”

you felt tears brim at your eyes, wanting to be angry. to rebuke, yell, scream kick.

you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. his hand rubbed soothingly on your covered legs. the position made it seem like he was worshipping you.

he wanted this. he wanted your purity. you said nothing- and he’ll grant you that. your time to accept.

he didn’t stop, though. his hands wandering down, rubbing your calves under the skirt.

“you’re so soft…” he praised, he blushed, turned on already by your soft skin.

“stop that.. what are you doing?” wearily protesting did nothing to falter him.

“shhh. let me have what’s mine.” jaemin cooed, relishing in the feeling of your warm skin.

you stifled back hot tears that spilled.

“oh, nono, baby.. don’t cry.” his hands delved, going to your thighs. “it’ll feel really good right now.”

you silently pleaded with him to stop, to let you go.. but your pussy welt warm.. and wet. it was a strange feeling, one you hadn’t felt before.

“please stop, our parents might hear us..” you importuned, as the hot feeling grew stronger.

“they’ll only hear us if you’re loud.”

you covered your mouth with your hands, as he lifted your hips up. he slid off your skirt, spreading your legs just enough for him to see your clad panties.

“you’re not telling me to stop.. so i’m going to keep at it.” his fingers rubbed your slit through your white cotton panties. jaemin felt like he was on cloud 9, you trulywere pure.

every movement of his made your body tremble, your left hand covering your mouth, the other going down and gripping his arm.

“calm down.. i told you, it’ll feel good.”

and he wasn’t lying. lying was a sin, after all.

his slender finger moved your panties to the side, and he delved into your sweet essence. your body, naturally, jolted.

“no! don’t go there!” you whined pitifully, as your hips grinded against your will.

his tongue was licking in that area— that sacred area. it felt warm, hot, you felt like you were gonna pee.

“p-please, i’m gonna pee!”

he paused his slurping momentarily.

“you’re not gonna pee, and if you do.. let it happen.”

he delved in more, his nose brushing and rubbing against your nub. you held your hand over your mouth. you prayed— to whatever it was, that no one could hear this utter indecency between your wet legs.

soaking his mouth, he tasted your innocent pussy. his fingers soon made their way, your thighs tightening around his head.

every movement of his made your body jolt and twitch, you couldn’t think.

your hand went down, rubbing his hair because you were scared of tugging it. your feet thrashed, as you leaned over, letting a pressure form in your tummy.

pressure and heat combined, as you felt the pressure release, painting jaemins lips a clear white.

he looked up at you, his mouth sinful, eyes full of greed.

“it feels good to be impure, doesn’t it?”

you panted softly, covering your face in utter shame. what came out of you? what was he doing with his mouth down there!? jaemin locked his lips, letting your panties slide back on naturally. as you delved in your shame, he put your skirt back on.

“let’s go to your room.”

snapping you out of your shameful demise, you looked up at him as he stood. your necklaces were hanging off your necks, a reminder of the sins.

“we need to go out and see them.”

“no we don’t, that’s nonsense. I’ll make up and excuse, too.” he replied, a promise of you not being in trouble.

hesitantly, you and him walked to your room.

no one had any idea, only a concerned murmur from his mother.

“her wound must’ve been pretty bad..”

moments later, jaemin let you lay in your bed. he sauntered out of your room, into the dining room.

“say.. is it alright if i stay with her? she wasn’t feeling well after her cut.”

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