#I did go to Catholic school but by choice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venusjeon · 2 years

Text

rock god

you've got one year left to either finish your novitiate and become a nun like your parents always wanted, or leave the order and live a secular life like you've always wanted. but the fact that a sister's flirty nephew is staying in the convent for the summer provides a perfect distraction to such headache.

♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader

♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l

♔ WORD COUNT: 16.3k another long one i'm sorry

♔ WARNINGS: minor characters death, religious themes, catholic guilt, smoking weed, swearing, sacrilege and exhibitionism: fingering in a church, profanity, blasphemy, quiet sex & loss of virginity (you're probably thinking girl AGAIN?), protected sex, betrayal, one mention of rape

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: for an atheist i do seem to write a lot about religion lol. the first song jk writes & performs for reader + the inspiration for the title is rock god by selena gomez, and the second one church by chase atlantic. i recommend you listen to them in advance☺️ also, we'll pretend jk is blond in the banner okay?

1986

The day was going incredibly slow, as all of last month’s had.

Most people would attribute that to the fact that you were a novice, but their idea of what that entailed was far from the reality. Contrary to popular belief and even if some sisters wished it was the case, cloistered nuns didn’t spend all day just praying. There were many other things to keep busy with in a convent, such as attending to one’s studies, doing household chores, or working to bring money in and keep the place going. Free time had never been the part of the day you looked the most forward to, though, until recently. Not that it got any better then.

Contradictory as though it was, you were kept from the present by the same plaguing thoughts you didn’t want to be left alone with… And sometimes, such as now, you didn’t have any choice but to force yourself back into reality, running late as you were.

The novice mistress Sister Daeun—that is, the one responsible for the training of the novices—had assigned you to fix the torn seams on your classmates’ habits that morning. Hey, someone had to do it. So off you ran through the cloister not to melt under the same sun others didn’t seem to mind.

Others being Jungkook and the group of girls who gathered around to listen to him play the guitar.

The presence of men wasn’t rare in your abbey, built some centuries back. It was sort of shut off from the rest of the world, hidden up in a mountain, but lost hikers always wandered into it and the abbot was more than happy to let them spend a night or two as guests, regardless of their gender.

Jungkook was a guest too.

He was in a rock band, or so you’d heard, and that career choice was why his parents had kicked him out, something you’d pity him for if he wasn’t always in a cheery mood whenever you chanced to see him around. Of course, what guy wouldn’t, surrounded by girls?

It didn’t bother you that some of your less spiritual sisters succumbed to his tattoos, long dyed blond hair, charming voice, and piercings. Their parents would doubtlessly tell them to stay away from someone who looked like a delinquent—your conscience did too—but then again, they were the ones who’d forcefully made them join the order, so you understood where the girls’ disobedience came from. On a personal level, in fact.

Though not because of the same reason, you weren’t there willingly either.

Unlike theirs, your behaviour wasn’t scandalous in any way and there was no need for you to be schooled in rectitude, no. This was just the path your parents had wanted you to take since you were little and you’d resigned to comply, however unhappy it made you. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t make a good nun, devout as you’d been raised and actually enjoyed being, but it wasn’t your calling.

Leaving the lively cloister behind and trying to do the same with your affliction, you rushed to your destination.

About three hours later, you were still sat in front of the sewing machine in the otherwise empty laundry room, humming on a loop the part of the song Jungkook had been playing earlier. You couldn’t deny it was catchy... Besides, you needed a tune to distract you from the machine’s repetitive noise and the summer heat, or else you’d go crazy. Maybe you had already, given you’d failed to notice someone opening the creaky door and walking in.

“Hello?”

Startled, you raised your head to meet the eyes of the rockstar himself, filled with something akin to interest. “Oh, hi...”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Before you could kindly tell him not to worry, that it was your fault for spacing out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt to show you the hole in it that until then you hadn’t caught sight of. “I was told to come here to get this fixed?” He then glanced at the dozen habits lying on the table you still had to work on, and changed his mind not to burden you, “But I can come another time– Or not at all! I mean, ripped clothes are trendy, aren’t they?”

For the first time in a while, you laughed genuinely and not out of courtesy, “I wouldn’t know, there’s not much variety in a novice’s wardrobe.” Since Jungkook’s t-shirt would just take a moment to mend and you didn’t mind helping him, you decided to neglect your current task without a second thought, holding out your hand with a smile. “It’s alright, really!”

“You’re an angel.” He smiled back as he took off his t-shirt, exposing a toned body you weren’t prepared for. Bet he says that to all the girls, intruded a thought in your mind as though to make go away the uplift of his compliment, but you brushed it off before he reached the table. “By the way, was that my song you were just humming?”

“Oh? I heard you sing it earlier, but I didn’t know it was yours,” you said while getting to work. Meanwhile, Jungkook leaned against the door’s frame. “I don’t really listen to music much.”

“What?!” He was utterly shocked, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost. “That’s the greatest sin of all! I’ll have a serious conversation with the abbot, they’re not teaching you girls the important stuff here.” Father Jimin would certainly be amused at such a request. “But I did see you running earlier in the cloister, now that I think about it. It is hot, Y/N, but I don’t believe the floor is in flames.”

He knows my name? What a stupid question. Whoever had told him to come to the laundry room must have seen you entering it and mentioned you’d be there.

“Yeah, I was late, had overslept. It probably looked like someone was chasing me… Nun on the run!” you rhymed out of nowhere. “There’s a title for your next single.”

“If naming my songs will get you to listen to them, I’m down.” You looked up from the task at hand to ask him if that meant he’d credit ‘Sister Y/N’ as a songwriter, but the sight of someone walking down the hallway towards the laundry room scared the words away. “You know, you’re too pretty to be a nun.”

Sister Daeun, now right behind Jungkook, smacked the back of his head and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook’s smile turned into a pout as he rubbed the spot. “Nothing, aunty. Ouch…”

Yes, he was her nephew, which was the main reason why Father Jimin had allowed him to stay not just for a few days, but the whole summer. Sister Daeun had promised on his behalf that as a thanks, he would help around to earn his bed and under no circumstances put in peril anyone’s vow of chastity. If he weren’t so good-looking, you imagined she wouldn’t have needed to make that promise.

“Y/N…” she sighed when she saw the pile of habits you had yet to fix the seams of. Despite the disappointment in her voice, she made sure to say tactfully, “It’s almost midday, I asked you to have all of them done before ten.”

Jungkook was the only one in the room who had no clue as to why you’d been working so slowly, but he didn’t hesitate to step forward when your head lowered in shame. “My bad, I’ve been distracting her for hours. And on top of it, I gave her more work…”

He approached the sewing machine, got his t-shirt, and put it on, all while you stared at him at a loss for words. Why would he take the blame? Sister Daeun started telling you to finish some other time and get ready for lunch, but you stopped listening, attention fixed on Jungkook as he discreetly winked at you before leaving.

That wasn’t the last time you met that day. Well, incorrect, because it was past midnight.

Like many nights before, guilt stirred a restlessness that kept you from falling asleep, the only solution you could think of being walking around the empty abbey in the hope of tiring your body and with it, your brain. It wasn’t that easy, though, often hours how long you’d wander about, always ending up at the cloister. Sitting on the stone base between the columns and gazing up at the stars brought some peace to you. More than praying, it appeared.

That night, such peace was disrupted when barely after ten minutes of it, the sound of a lighter being flicked made your head whip around.

“So you do have hair,” Jungkook joked as he sat against a column, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow on it. Although a bit embarrassed you were in your pyjamas and thus wearing no white veil that covered your head in front of a guy you didn’t know, you did the same on the next column to be able to face him. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Lately, not.”

He puffed at his joint before offering it to you, and a short laugh broke through your lips. Was he seriously tempting a novice to burn one with him? To be fair, he did mean to help you sleep, but it was still a bit… much for you. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Yeah, probably not a good idea,” Jungkook nodded at his own words before taking another puff, blowing the smoke to a side so it wouldn’t reach you. “I don’t want your parents to make a complaint because there’s a bloke loose in the convent corrupting the nuns. Can’t afford to be kicked out of here, too,” he whispered the last bit, as though talking to himself.

“Don’t worry, that’s not happening.”

“Why not? Are you girls not allowed visits or something?”

“No, we are, it’s just… they died last month. Car crash.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” You could see in Jungkook’s wide eyes how much he regretted bringing them up. “That explains why you were out of sorts this morning... Agh, I can’t believe they’re still making you do work, what a bunch of heartless pricks! Not to mention class, I mean, isn’t it summer?”

His indignation for your sake came as a surprise. Ignorantly, you’d allowed prejudices to decide what kind of person Jungkook was before he got the chance to show you himself. The familiar guilt well-deservedly returned to grip your heart.

“Father Jimin actually had me switch jobs with some sisters so that I’d get to do less demanding stuff,” you came to the poor abbot’s defence. “It makes no difference, but he’s not to blame nothing can.”

"Doesn’t praying help?” He took another puff, lips curling into a smirk at the thought that next crossed his mind. “I thought nuns had a direct line with God.”

The truth was your relationship with the Lord had strained. As someone whose thoughts and desires couldn’t help but fall into sin over and over, you didn’t feel worthy of His comfort, or dared ask for guidance. His or anybody’s.

“I have to go through the telephonist angels first, I’m not an official nun yet.” The muscles of your face relaxed, gaze falling to your lap. “To be honest, I don’t think I want to be.”

Jungkook’s head cocked to a side. “Really? So, what are you doing here? You don’t strike me as the type forced by her p– uh, family.”

“I do like this place and what they’re teaching us, but I’m here because my parents wanted a saintly daughter who could put in a good word for them up there. I tried telling them once that I have dreams of my own, but it ended in an argument they had the last word in. Now that they’re dead, it’s like the topic is permanently sealed, I can never talk them out of it. And I mean, I love them, so how can I disappoint them? What would it say about me if I waited until my parents were dead to disobey them?”

Only after you finished venting did it dawn on you that perhaps you’d said too much. After all, what did Jungkook care? What did anyone?

“What’s your dream?”

The question took you aback, but you still answered, “I’d like to go to university, get married someday, have kids... Not be trapped inside these four walls for the rest of my life, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean, trust me,” Jungkook said quietly before puffing at his joint again. “You’re free to leave, though, right? I don’t need to master-plan an escape?”

You hummed a laugh, mindful not to be loud enough to wake anyone up, given neither of you should be out of bed. There may or may not have been a curfew you were breaking, as well as a tradition called the Great Silence in which everyone kept quiet from the final liturgical prayer of the day until the earliest one the next morning. It was a rule often broken, especially by you, but that didn’t mean the abbey wasn’t dead silent.

“Anytime I want, yes, only next year I’m supposed to take my solemn vows.” Jungkook nodded but a slight frown gave away he didn’t know what that meant. “Poverty, chastity, and obedience? It’s like a wedding with Jesus. I can always divorce him, but that doesn’t mean marriage is a light affair.”

Most orders didn’t work like that. There were various stages one had to go through before becoming a professed nun: an optional aspirancy, then a postulancy, a novitiate, and finally, a juniorate. Since you’d gone to Catholic school all your life, you’d skipped the first, done no more than a few months of the second, were about to start the final year of the third, and would not be doing the fourth since your convent didn’t teach it. Instead of six more years of formation before taking your perpetual vows, then, you had only one.

“Damn, and here I thought I had the most fucked up horoscope of the year. Maybe we were born on the same month.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t everyone know my parents kicked me out because I want to be a rockstar?”

“Yeah...”

Once again, you’d assumed wrongly about him. That because of his profession and looks, he was a rebellious kid who hated his parents and was glad to be rid of them. You hadn’t even considered their shunning might be putting him through a hard time.

“Look, disappointing your parents beats living a miserable life just to please them, even if it sucks. One day we’ll be old, and I personally want to look back and not regret my youth, feel like I wasted it. I’m not gonna tell you what to do but if you want my opinion, getting out of here and chasing your dreams says no more than you’re in charge of your own life.”

You had no idea why after that, Jungkook had taken it as his mission to stick with you.

It was common knowledge that you’d barely uttered ten words since your parents’ accident, so all eyes were drawn like magnets when you engaged in conversation with him of all people for hours on end. Since you came from vastly different worlds, it surprised you too that even though his company didn’t lessen your guilt, it was the best way to distract you from it. And precisely, that was his intention.

He would sit next to you at meals, trying to convince the sisters around the table in all seriousness that because they were cloistered, they weren’t aware Earth had been invaded by aliens last year.

“Do you think we’re stupid?” a postulant asked, giggles escaping you at how ridiculous the conversation you were having was. “Some of us do go out sometimes, I think we would’ve noticed.”

“They want you to think everything’s normal because only an army of nuns can defeat them!”

“How do we know you’re not one of them, huh?” you played along, narrowing your eyes in suspicion while Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, feigning shock.

“Aunty will vouch for me but even if not, I can’t believe you’d doubt me. We’ve known each other for like, what, a week? That’s enough for me to follow you into battle.”

“Sorry but can’t be too careful during an alien invasion.”

“That I warned you about! Why would I say anything in the first place?”

“I’ve been here for many years,” an older nun chimed in from the other side of the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. She addressed Jungkook, “You’ve just reminded me why I joined the order.”

He blinked, dumbfounded. “Why, sister?”

“Men talk so much nonsense it makes my head hurt.”

To see Jungkook argue playfully about aliens and men with a seventy-year-old nun who was having none of his shit was an experience, but it wouldn’t be just that.

Like you’d told him, Father Jimin had allowed you to switch jobs. Your old one consisted of embellishing clothes with elaborate religious embroideries—hence why Sister Daeun had asked for your help with the torn habits—that would later be sold on a street market stall in town beside other products manufactured by your sisters, whereas your new one required almost no effort.

There was an old married couple nearby who ran a goat farm, and a small group of nuns from your convent helped them in exchange of a portion of the food they made, instead of a salary. Father Jimin was clearly trying his best to raise your spirits when he’d assigned you to tend to the cutest new-born goats, but it wasn’t until Jungkook tagged along and you saw him struggle with the baby bottles, spilling milk all over his clothes and cursing at the tiny animals, that the abbot’s goal was achieved.

“No, no, no, come back, you little shit!” He chased a hoppy kid around the barn, unable to contain that lovely high-pitched laugh.

“How are you making a mess out of literally the easiest thing in the world?” you teased from the bag of pine shavings you were sat on, another kid resting otherwise peacefully on your lap.

“That’s easy for you to say, I’ve got Psycho making me do cardio over here!”

“Try this one,” you giggled, motioning to the empty spot beside you with your head so Jungkook would sit down. When he did, you lay the kid on his lap carefully and brought the baby bottle to its mouth, both of you watching as it fed without any problem. “See?”

It didn’t take long for the milk to run out, after which you and Jungkook stroked the kid to sleep while the other one still hopped around, sharing a smile when your fingers accidentally brushed.

Because he’d tag along, you agreed to helping out in the kitchen on another day, as time was somehow bearable if he was there. But you were still going through the motions, your parents’ absence ever-present.

“What do you think?” Jungkook stirred you awake from your trance. “Bitchin’, right? The best thing you’ve ever heard?”

The song that got stuck in your head the day you met was playing on a boombox he’d brought from his van and put on the worktop while the two of you and three other sisters cooked lunch.

The girl you’d just heard, he had explained, was the band’s lead singer Amber, whom he sometimes joined apart from playing the guitar. There were also a Hoseok on the drums and a Taehyung on the bass. Bangtan, their name was. You’d never heard of them.

“I’m not sure about the lyrics,” meaning all the cursing and allusions to sex, which got your sisters flustered in the background, “but I like the tune.”

“The tune…”

“I’m just more used to church songs, is all.” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No.” You knew he was thinking exactly of blasting his rock songs in the middle of Mass.

“Why not?” he asked as a joke while trying to steal a couple of french fries from a dish. You slapped his hand before he could.

“Because Father Jimin will exile you, duh.”

“And don’t you think I’ll give up yet. I’ll be found outside your cell’s window playing music on my boombox until you agree to go out with me.” You should’ve cast away the heat before it reached your cheeks, as his flirting was obviously just for fun. Something he did with all girls and which meant nothing. “Better yet, I’ll write you a song.”

“I don’t think a novice is the perfect muse for a rock song, especially if it’s about…”

Jungkook shook his head. “I’ll keep it PG-13 for you, I promise.” He then grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll start working on it tonight.”

You weren’t together at all times, though. No, you had class, he had work, sometimes you didn’t see him for whole days. Such was the case one cloudy afternoon around three weeks after first meeting, when Father Jimin approached you in the cloister. It had been a while since your last visit to his confessional box, so you feared a scolding.

“I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he said with that distinctive, soothing voice of his as you walked together, “about Jungkook.”

Your heart missed a beat for a reason that escaped your knowledge. It felt, somehow, as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. “What about him, Father?”

“I hadn’t seen you smile for a while and now it’s all you do when he’s by your side. I know the past month has been very difficult, so it makes me happy to see you get through the loss of your parents, Y/N.” Did it really look like things were fine? Well, better that than having everyone worry about you until things got fixed, if that ever happened. “However,” Father Jimin continued, “as your Spiritual Director, it’s my duty to advise you not to rely too much on someone other than God for solace. There’s a reason for enclosure, so that the outside world doesn’t distract us from religion. Unless… you’ve reconsidered your life as a nun? There’d be nothing wrong with that.”

What Jungkook had told you that first night, you’d been chewing on ever since, but God and your parents had long won the war. ‘Honour thy father and thy mother’ was one of the Ten Commandments, after all.

“I have no doubts. I belong here.”

The last time you’d stepped in town had been for the funeral, but Bangtan was doing a gig at what Jungkook claimed was the coolest venue he’d ever been in and he’d managed to persuade the other members to perform Rock God, the song he’d pulled an all-nighter to write. You didn’t know what a title like that had to do with someone like you but apparently, the lyrics were from your point of view.

“You have to come,” he’d begged for the millionth time across the table the previous day, interrupting your Bible reading in the library. Luckily, nobody else was there, or had been before his arrival.

‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’

Did that mean He would forgive you for the sin of going against your parents’ wishes? That you could hang the white veil and live how you dreamed of? The next passages from the Book of Isaiah answered those questions.

‘If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land: But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.’

In other words, you were fucked. There was no way out.

“I’d have to ask Father Jimin for permission, and I don’t think he’d let me go to a rock concert.”

You’d laughed to yourself at the idea but Jungkook had been serious, insisted, “Tell him you want to go buy groceries or something, he won’t say no to you.”

“You mean, ‘lie to him because he’ll take pity on you.’”

“Please.” He’d sank his elbows on the table, leaning so close you almost had to back away. You would have, had he not bewitched you with the most angelic of smiles. “Do it for me? I’ll tell Saint Peter I made you do it so he lets you in Heaven.”

That’s how you ended up in the queue for his concert, holding a plastic bag full of stationary you’d told Father Jimin you needed for class.

Jungkook had given you no ticket, said telling the security guy your name would suffice, and surely enough ‘Sister Y/N’ got you in. The habit had wisely been left at home, but the man still frowned at your modest outfit before putting a wristband on you that was a different colour than everyone else’s. You assumed it meant you were VIP.

There was a secluded area with round tables near the stage you were indeed taken to, where only a handful of other people were hanging out, waiting for the show to begin. You wouldn’t have thought of approaching them, as there was likely nothing you had in common, with them or anyone in the whole poorly lit venue. If you were there, out of your comfort zone, it was for Jungkook only.

The lights at some point changed colours and finally, the concert began. Bangtan got on the stage and performed song after song, giving their all to an audience that cheered loudly. You cheered too, captivated by a Jungkook who made you feel things with every look he gave you.

His blond hair was wet, whether with water, product, or sweat you didn’t know, but it dripped down his curls to his ripped clothes which allowed a glimpse of the inked skin of his torso. When had he got new tattoos? They weren’t there the day he’d got his t-shirt off for you to sew. You had never paid much attention to those that covered his veiny right arm and hand, but now you found yourself tickled by the fact, and wanting to see them up close. Definitely the tattoos, not his bare body… But most tantalising of all was the passionate way he played his electric guitar, moving around the stage with a confidence that made it clear he belonged there.

With that confidence, though, came a cockiness that had him eye-fucking every pretty girl in the crowd. Who’s to say he didn’t write songs for them too? Not to mention Amber, to whom he sometimes got so close you feared they were going to kiss—as did their fans, judging by their screams of excitement.

The last song of the night was Rock God, which he made sure to announce by enthusiastically mouthing you ‘This is it!’. You braced yourself for the lyrics.

Preacher man walked into the club, and he said He said, "Hey girl, can't you walk and not stray?" Father, I'm torn and I'm selling my soul to the Rhythm, the beat and the bass 'Cause I can't confess my rock and roll ways (Ooh) 'Cause I'm so possessed with the music The music he plays

Was the preacher man supposed to be Father Jimin? He wasn’t likely to walk in the venue right then, but the idea of him attending a rock concert was so absurd it made you smile. You guessed the tone of the song before Amber had even got to the chorus.

I can't stop my feet from dancing to the sound of his drum (Oh no) I fell in love with my rock god I can't keep my hips from swaying to his sweet melody You see, I fell in love with my rock, rock god

Oh, so not only did you like his music in this narrative, but you were also in love with him? You raised an eyebrow at that, to which he failed to bite down a smile. There must be thrill in succeeding to seduce a novice.

The next verse was similar to the first one. Then came the chorus again, twice, but it was the bridge that struck you, putting an end to the fun you were having. Jungkook watched your reaction closely, as he had during the whole song.

No, I wouldn't change a thing even if I could 'Cause I chose a path and I'm not looking back And I'm sorry if I left the angels crying over me

The chorus was sung twice more but the music muffled into the back of your mind, the bridge’s words lingering in the foreground. Would you be able to choose a path that resulted in your angels weeping? How could you? And how could Jungkook portray you as remorseless over it, when the matter was eating away at you inside?

The show was over before you knew it, and the audience slowly exited the venue while the band got out of their rockstars outfits and makeup backstage. About fifteen minutes later, they came into the area you were sat in and Jungkook bumped fists with the friends who’d come to see him in a rush, so as to not keep you waiting any longer.

Checking out your collared shirt and ankle-length skirt while approaching, he whistled. “Gee, Y/N, I can’t handle myself when you dress so sexy.”

“Because a novice’s habit is so much better.”

“There’s an appeal to it. Makes a man want to tempt you.” Earning a smile from him, you rolled your eyes. “Thoughts on the song. Shoot.”

You pouted. “Full of blasphemies. Are you supposed to be the rock god?”

“Who else?” Jungkook asked surprised. How did that escape you?

“Then why do I say ‘sound of his drum’? You’re a guitar player. Are you trying to set me up with your bandmate?”

“‘Guitar’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘god’,” he said matter-of-factly, it hitting him in the pause that followed. You laughed. “Well, yeah, neither does ‘drum’… but it does a bit more, right?”

“A bit more, yes. So, are you and Amber dating?”

Jungkook smirked. “Jealous much?”

“If you are,” you ignored his question, “she might not be too happy her boyfriend’s writing songs to other girls.”

“She has a boyfriend,” he cleared up, lifting a weight off your chest. “We’re just friends, what we do onstage is part of the show. Don’t worry, you don’t have to fight anyone to keep me.”

“What a relief,” you joked, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Listen, I’m gonna get going, it’s late and you said you were getting some drinks with Bangtan, so I’ll leave you to it. I had fun tonight, you did great.”

“I can drive you to the convent,” he offered, but you shook your head, picking the plastic bag up from the table.

“It’s alright, Sisters Joan and Theresa are still at their stall in the street market. I’ll go back with them.”

“Swell…” he said under his breath, hoping you couldn’t tell he’d wanted to say ‘bummer’ instead.

You didn’t see each other until the next night, when you broke the curfew yet again to hang out in the kitchen. Sat on the table, the two of you discussed your dilemma while sipping at the awful tea Jungkook had made. There weren’t many ways to fuck up tea, but he’d still managed it, holding the old kettle responsible.

All had begun with him pointing out you’d paled towards the end of Rock God and you telling him the lyrics had moved you because you’d chosen to finish your novitiate. There was no way, therefore, you could sell your soul to the rhythm, the beat, and the bass.

“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you what to do, but–”

“You did.”

“But hear me out. Now that we’re friends, I can’t just watch you make a decision I know you already regret.”

“I’d regret leaving too, at least this is the selfless choice.”

“Well, aren’t you a good person!” Jungkook’s mocking made you sigh and sip on your tea like it were alcohol. It did taste as bad. “Y/N, you need to live for yourself, not for two fuddy-duddies who couldn’t put their daughter’s happiness before theirs.”

“Don’t be mean to them.”

Jungkook only bit his tongue because of your pleading tone. “Sorry… Even if you loved your parents, you can’t deny they put you in a tough spot. I’m sure wherever they are, they’ve realised they were wrong and want you to be happy however you choose.”

“The thing is, they were convinced I’d be happy as a nun, that I just wanted to switch to secular on a whim. That’s why they ordered me to stay, they were looking out for me.” Jungkook almost grimaced at the word ‘ordered’, fought against commenting how messed up was the fact that you were using it in this context. Staring at the almost empty mug on your lap, you wondered whether it was insensitive of you to speak your mind. “It’s also what’s happened to you that I couldn’t bear happening to me, even if my parents are gone. I don’t want to do anything that would make them spurn me. I don’t want them not to love me,” your voice broke despite your best efforts.

Jungkook immediately stole the mug from your fingers and put it next to his on the table, so he could hold your hands. “Listen to me, my parents are assholes. Like, genuine bad people who shouldn’t’ve been allowed to have a kid. I won’t tell you the things they’ve said and done to me because you’d cry, but they are a different breed. Normal parents love their children no matter what. Why do you think yours would spurn you if they were still alive, instead of realising that they were making you unhappy?”

Good point, actually. If only it wasn’t far more complicated than that…

The second Jungkook withdrew his hands, you missed their warmth, even though it was a hot summer night. He sipped at his tea, and you suspected he only mmm-ed with delight to make you laugh, given he bloody well knew its taste was disgusting. Idiot.

“Just promise me one thing,” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you quit being a novice, go out on a date with me.”

Now, that made you laugh. “A date?”

Jungkook nodded, anchoring his foot to one of the legs of your chair so he could drag it close to his and rest his arm on its top rail, the proximity such that you could feel his breathing against your cheek. Heart racing, you crossed your arms and tried your hardest to appear unbothered. “I’ll pick you up at five and we’ll go roller-skating until we can’t feel our legs, then we’ll have dinner in my van while we watch a drive-in movie– A scary one, so you cling onto me for safety. Then I’ll drive you home, walk you to your door, and you’ll go ‘Oh! It’s too late, why don’t you stay over?’. So we’ll have some drinks, and you’ll take my hand to lead me into your bedroom, and then…”

“And then we’ll say our prayers and go to sleep.”

“To sleep, yes,” Jungkook chuckled, “afterwards.”

“I don’t know what makes you think I wouldn’t live almost like a nun if I left here. I am, in fact, a Catholic.”

“A relaxed one, I dare say. Oh, come on. You’ve never thought about breaking your faith’s rules? Not even to have fun?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a confession, but you shook your head.

“I can have fun without breaking the rules, I always have.”

Jungkook nibbled at his lip for a while, mentally debating with himself. Whichever of the voices in his head won, it made him say, “What if I showed you my ways? Would you be up for that?”

“Up for what, exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

Due to the series of communal prayers scattered throughout the day called Liturgy of Hours, it was as early as five that the whole convent got up. You’d usually go straight back to bed after the first one and get what more rest you could until it was time for class or work, but today, despite it being Sunday, a few sisters had volunteered to go to the farm and help around, you and Jungkook joining them to nanny the goats.

You didn’t mind getting your habit dirty there, but it was being an awfully hot July, which was the reason why you were wearing lighter clothes that morning when walking into the chapel alongside Jungkook to attend Mass. He was an atheist whom you supposed only went to these things to spend more time with you, and that warmed your heart.

Ever since you’d started hanging out, the same less devout sisters who’d previously flocked around him had gone back to the handsome abbot’s orbit, so the nearer pews to the altar had quickly been taken. Together, you sat alone at the back, the pew all to yourselves. Three quite tall sisters were sat in the one in front of you and acted as a barrier Father Jimin hid behind of, but as long as you heard him, it didn’t matter.

Your mind went elsewhere no more than a couple of minutes into the service anyway. Tuning out seemed to be easy as of late.

It was just so unfair, all of it. You could be learning in university, meeting new people, living a normal life where you wouldn’t need to ask an abbot for permission to go out if you fancied taking a fucking walk! It didn’t have to mean you’d stop practising your religion or let yourself fall into sin at all, nothing had to change in that regard. You took a deep breath charged with frustration. If only your parents hadn’t decided to take the car in the middle of a storm and you’d had more time to make them see reason… Why did they have to die? Why did God have to take them and leave you alone?

Right in the middle of your brooding was when Jungkook put his hand on your bare knee and asked in a whisper, “Hey, are you okay?”

You forced a smile that he didn’t seem convinced by, so his hand remained on the same spot after he’d gone back to paying attention to Mass. His touch didn’t make you uncomfortable, you welcomed it and the comfort it provided, but your jaw did drop when it slowly travelled down your inner thigh, towards your intimate area.

“What are you doing?” you mouthed, petrified at the possibility of anyone noticing. Luckily, the only person facing the pews was Father Jimin, who couldn’t see a thing from the altar thanks to your barrier-sisters.

“Showing you my idea of fun,” Jungkook leaned in to whisper, lips brushing against your earlobe. It wasn’t that what made you gulp, though, but the fact that he reached your clit and rubbed it softly over your linen shorts, up and down, side to side… The unexpected pleasure made your breath hitch in your throat, gaze flying around the chapel at the speed of light. “No one’s watching,” Jungkook reassured you. “Live a little, Y/N.” Feeling his middle finger now press your clit firmly and at an increasing pace, you looked at him, shocked there was no sign of shame on his features, eyes half-lidded with arousal as they studied your worried ones. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Stop? You were still registering something had started there, in a sacred place, during Mass! What you were letting Jungkook do to you was all kinds of sinful, but… it felt so good you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Sobering up, he ceased his actions at that lack of consent, and was going to withdraw his hand and apologise had you not grabbed it and kept it in place down there, much to the surprise of both.

Relief showed on Jungkook in the form of an exhale. He wasted no time, then, sliding his hand inside your shorts and underwear, making you bite down on your lip when he found your clit once more and rubbed it in circles. He lingered there just enough to make your core pulsate with ache when he abandoned it to move on to your wet slit, something you had to slouch for him to do. He eased two fingers inside you that he began pumping in and out with a mastery that got you squirming in your seat, hand glued to your mouth to hold back the moans that threatened to escape it and gaze locked on the tattooed sleeve that disappeared inside your shorts.

That was when everyone started singing a hymn. Jungkook took the chance to quicken his movements, the sounds of your irregular breathing and his fingers sliding into your juices eclipsed by the song. He licked his lips, coating them with saliva before leaving chaste kisses on your neck, knowing if his tongue met it he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from fucking you right there and then. When he pulled back, he noticed you’d closed your eyes to get lost in the pleasure, and that they opened only when you felt his breath near your parted lips, to stare down at his. So close, yet he restrained the urge to kiss you, intent on watching you come.

He didn’t have to wait long, your walls now clenching around his fingers every time he rubbed that magical spot, thighs shaking as a result. All the tension built up inside of you suddenly released, and you dissolved into a daze just in time for the ending of the hymn. Not to overstimulate you, Jungkook gently removed his fingers and slipped out of the chapel. He returned a minute later with his hand washed and dry, and although you readily intertwined fingers with his when he reached out, you dared not meet his eyes after what had just happened.

That night you lay awake tossing and turning forever, unable to forget the feel of his touch.

Inexplicably, you weren’t ashamed of all the sins you’d added to the collection that day: falling into the temptation of lust, doing pre-marital sexual acts that didn’t lead to procreation, breaching your vow of chastity, desecrating a holy place, taking the sacrament while in mortal sin… Somehow, you just weren’t. You were, right after, but now it was as though you’d managed to sweep all the guilt related to it under the rug. As for the one related to your parents, well, Jungkook had been the sweetest distraction from it.

A distraction you craved again.

You must have been held sway by a demon when you got up from bed to go find Jungkook, but you were in no hurry to free yourself from its grasp.

Except for the first night, he tended to be the sleepless one who wandered about the abbey until you eventually joined him, so you knew he’d be awake. Indeed, he was on the phone in the community room, getting tangled up in the cord as he paced around, nervous. He couldn’t see you lurking in the hallway’s shadows, so you decided to let curiosity get the better of you and eavesdrop the conversation he was having.

“No, you’re not following,” he whispered into the phone. “My cousin’s friend’s brother is into this hot religious girl, and I– he! sort of fingered her in public… In a church… No, there were people present, it was in the middle of Mass… Nobody, that I’m– that he’s aware… No, Hoseok, it’s not dope! He’s going up and down the walls like a fucking yoyo... He isn’t so sure it was a good idea, fears he might’ve crossed a line… Well, he hasn’t seen her since, I think she’s been avoiding him– Agh, he thinks!... Fuck yeah, she did, and he loved it too… The problem is that I don’t want her to regret it and feel bad about it just because it wasn’t the time or place, or to never want to have sex because I got her into it the wrong way… What? He, I said he… You’re right,” he sighed, putting an end to his pacing. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, bro... ‘Night.”

Arms crossed, you couldn’t help but smile fondly. He was that worried about it? You should’ve known, you were friends after all. That was all he probably wanted to be, at least. Friends. With benefits, but friends. Who would want to be more than that not only with a novice, but with one as troubled as you?

A noise made you look up. It was Jungkook, now by the window, flicking his lighter over and over to pass the time. Your eyes inspected his fingers under the moonlight, the same ones he’d buried inside you that morning, and the longing that had got you out of bed returned to move your feet in his direction. You must’ve been abrupt while approaching him, though, as he jolted with a gasp at the sight of you.

“Sorry.”

“Y/N…” he said as he caught his breath from the startle. He had hoped you’d show up, but not so suddenly. Payback, he thought, for the way we met. “Listen, about earlier–”

You cut his sentence short with a kiss. It was soft at first, as timid as you felt, but Jungkook soon got over the shock that had frozen him and took charge of the matter, pulling you in a tight embrace. His tongue entered your mouth and swirled around yours like it was always meant to, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. How else could it feel so good, and Jungkook so addictive?

It was a challenge, but you found the strength to step back and whisper so lowly that he almost didn’t hear, “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. No need for that, they already had you enthralled, dark with the desire you’d infected him with.

“Yes,” you exhaled, taking his hands in yours to lead him upstairs. “With you, yes.”

Once in your cell, you lost your pyjamas in a matter of seconds, both too impatient to feel each other.

Being naked and seeing Jungkook so was initially nerve-racking but once you were under the sheets, under his toned body, your bashfulness flew out the window. Especially when you saw his dick, already hard from just making out—you figured he’d been charged up since the morning. Yet his priority wasn’t his own pleasure, but yours, not an inch of your skin left untouched by his lips as he slowly travelled downwards. Until you started giggling out of nowhere, and Jungkook raised his head from in between your boobs to look at you in confusion.

“Your Barbie hair is tickling me,” you teased him as you tucked behind his ears the blond cascade that covered his face and grazed over your chest whenever he moved.

“Barbie, huh?” Jungkook whispered next to your ear only to lay a warm kiss right under it, all while he positioned himself in between your legs. “Do you want me to tickle you somewhere else?”

“Actually, I…” How did one say such a thing? “I want to tickle you, but I don’t know what to do.”

He chuckled, “My pleasure to instruct you.”

You did as he said and reclined next to him, upside down so he could touch you—he’d insisted—while you sucked him off. It did feel strange to take him in your mouth and run your tongue along the length of his shaft, at least until you heard his breathing speed up, resisting to buck his hips into your face as he was. Your cunt throbbed, and you wished Jungkook’s cock was inside it instead of your mouth. He seemed to sense that, so his hand soon crept between your thighs to remedy your ails, a whine escaping you then.

“You’re just as tight as earlier, fuck,” he groaned from the pillow as his fingers struggled to curl and uncurl inside of you, given you couldn’t keep still. It made you all the more eager to pleasure him, taking him as deep as you could so he saw the same stars you were beginning to see yourself. “You’re doing so well… That’s it, suck it harder, darling, ah… Wait, stop, stop!”

Immediately, you backed off. “Did I do something wrong?”

Jungkook sat up and used his thumb to wipe the drooling trail of saliva on your chin. “You were doing too well, miss.” Ogling your body, he licked his thumb. “Why don’t you come over here?” You nodded, would’ve agreed to do anything he asked in that moment.

He lay down again while holding your hands to guide you over to his lap, over his erection, but your sudden nerves made you shy away. Nevertheless, Jungkook pulled you closer with a smirk. “Where are you running off to?”

“I’m sorry, just… Will it hurt?”

He sat up to peck your lips cutely, “Oh, it will be excruciatingly painful,” and you pushed his chest with an eye-roll, so he returned to his previous position. He grabbed the condom he’d stopped by his cell to get before following you to yours and put it on.

A deep breath later, you grabbed his cock and placed its tip in your wet entrance, looking down at it to make sure you were doing it right. Hands between his head and the pillow, Jungkook watched patiently, turned on by your inexperience and the fact that he and he alone got to be the one to pop your cherry, make you break your vow of chastity. He thought it’d take you a while to get used to the size of his dick, but you surprised him by rolling your hips almost aggressively the second you sat on it, chasing pleasure as though it would escape from your grasp otherwise.

“Shit, yes, like that.” All flushed under you and with his eyes barely open, feeling the way you moved with all his senses, Jungkook ignited a lust in you that even an angel would be willing to fall from grace for.

“Oh my God, it feels so good…”

“I know, baby.” He wanted to dig his nails into your hips and move them back and forth himself but found that for a virgin, you were already doing a superb job, laughed instead. “Look at you, fuck. What a dirty bitch, you’re loving it.”

“I am…” you panted, his name-calling sending you over the edge. “Jesus, I am.”

It wasn’t long until Jungkook felt your walls clench tight around him, something he didn’t blame you for as he himself was close too. His cock had been burning in his pants ever since Mass, even after he’d jerked himself off in his cell when the service had finished and you’d vanished. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close to his mouth and kissed you hungrily, but even then, you refused to stop moving, felt too good. “Gonna come already? You like me that bad?”

I like you a lot. You were having a tough time not moaning, especially when he talked. His deep voice did all manner of things to you. “I’m so close, ah...”

“Why don’t I help you out with that, hm?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before bending his knees and repeatedly thrusting into you with such force that it had you gasping for air. If you’d known he could fuck you like that, you’d have asked him to be on top at the beginning. Eyes squeezed shut, you buried your head in the crook of his neck to moan against it as you came, finally letting go. Jungkook bit into your shoulder, not to hurt you, just hard enough to keep himself from grunting loudly as he found his own release after a few more thrusts, but your bodies remained locked until your heartbeats slowed down.

It didn’t hit you how loud your panting had been until your breath toned down and there was silence in the room. You prayed it hadn’t woken anybody up.

At some point, you got off Jungkook for him to remove his condom and go throw it in the bin next to your desk. You covered your naked body with the sheets, expecting to next see him get dressed, but he lay back on the bed. You didn’t understand.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

He scoffed. “Kicking me out, ouch. Why would I leave?”

“I thought… that’s what guys do.” At least, that was what your non-virgin sisters had told you. That men lost interest in a woman as soon as they’d had their way with her.

Jungkook shook his head as he said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Having sex surely messed with one’s head, there was no other explanation as to why you blushed like a teenager. The two of you got on your side, facing each other, and Jungkook started caressing your arm with the back of his fingers, the simple action so soothing you thought you’d fall asleep. “Is this nice?”

“Very,” you replied, eyes closing against your will.

“Did I go too far earlier?”

You were taken aback by the sudden question. “Maybe, but I liked it. You were right about breaking the rules. Looking back… I think it was what you said about living a little that got to me. Here at the convent, I don’t really feel alive, but I do when we’re this close.”

“See?” Jungkook asked gently, trying to make you see his point. “What’s stopping you from quitting, then? Nothing should cost you feeling alive.”

“Apart from my parents?” you sighed. “Look around. As a novice, I couldn’t receive their inheritance. Vow of poverty, remember? What you see in this cell is everything I own.” Jungkook had already noticed on his way in your lack of personal belongings. A cross hung over the bed, a small pile of religious books on the desk, a framed photo of you with your family, and little more. It was so empty and cold that anyone would’ve thought you’d just moved in. “I can’t afford to go to university, much less live on my own.”

“Well… I’ve been saving up for a while and I’m moving in an apartment with Hoseok and Tae when summer’s over. Why don’t you come stay with us? I’m sure they won’t mind!” he said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like he’d come up with the solution to all your problems. “I’ll help you find a job and you’ll be able to afford uni, easy-peasy.”

You were too sleepy to chuckle, but a faint smile did tug at your lips because of how determined he was to fix things. Things that were too broken to be fixed. “Let’s not talk about this right now, please?”

Even though Jungkook wasn’t pleased with your response, he forced a smile. “Why, did I tire you out?” Leaning in, he kissed your lips lightly. “You’re right, let’s not ruin the moment. Come here.”

He had you rest your head on his chest, and held lovingly, you fell asleep.

Understandably, he’d left by the time you woke up. If anyone saw him coming out of your cell, they might work out what he’d been up to there and the two of you would be kicked out of the convent. His scent lingered in your sheets, but it didn’t make any less disappointing waking up without him by your side. What’s more, as you put on your habit after having a quick shower, you were assailed by the most heart-breaking questions.

What if Jungkook had pretended to be your friend only to get in your pants? What if, now he’d got what he wanted, he blew you off? What if you’d risked everything for a guy who felt nothing for you?

To your immense relief, when you walked into the refectory for breakfast, he waved at you with a smile and gestured you to sit next to him. You were going to before Father Jimin suddenly appeared before you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted warmly, as ever.

“Oh, good morning, Father!”

“I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

You blinked. “It is, why?”

Shit. He knows?

“You left the chapel in a hurry after Mass yesterday,” he said, “and you didn’t show up to the remaining services. Were you unwell?”

“Oh... Yes, I was.” If you had locked yourself up in your cell, it was for no other reason than to avoid Jungkook and digest the fact that he’d fingered you in public. You lied, “I was sick all day, but I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad,” Jimin said with a smile you returned, then grabbed your hand to surround it with both of his, like old people will. “I know this comes out of nowhere, but I’m really proud of you, Y/N. For pulling through these challenging times. Many, including myself, can only learn from your strength. I know you’ll make a great nun.”

He gave your hand a soft squeeze and left you there, frozen in your spot. It was as though your sins finally dawned on you, all of them at once. You’d really believed leaving the convent didn’t have to mean you’d betray your faith and here you were, sleeping with a guy you’d met barely a month ago without shame because that made you feel alive.

What had you done? What were you turning into?

No longer hungry, you left to go back to your cell, tears already streaming down your cheeks before you made it out of the empty hallways. Or were they empty?

“Y/N!” You ignored Jungkook’s voice and quickened your pace, too ashamed to face him. “Hey, wait up!” He sprinted to reach you, concern shaping his features when he blocked your way and realised you were crying and trying to hide it from him. One thing was telling him your troubles, another to break down like a pathetic, helpless little girl. In the most caring tone, he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You explained, told him how you felt.

“I’m letting Father Jimin down,” you sobbed. “Him, my parents, God, and everyone.”

“You’re not,” Jungkook kept repeating. “You’re in a period of discernment, right? So who says you can’t reach a conclusion by trial and error? That’s what other nuns have done too. Before they got here, yes, but it was doing things they later regretted that convinced them to become nuns.”

“I don’t regret last night,” you said in all honesty, “but I do hate that I don’t regret sinning... You just can’t understand, you’re not religious.”

Jungkook looked down. “Maybe I can’t, but if I know something it’s that if what we did made you happy, it shouldn’t be a sin.” He looked around to make sure no one else was there before cupping your wet cheeks and kissing you, every muscle in your body relaxing under his touch as he knew they would. “Now come with me and eat something.”

He didn’t fully convince you, but your will wasn’t strong enough to resist his tempting.

For the next three weeks, you continued sleeping together at night, pretending you were no more than close friends at day. Whatever the time, Jungkook made sure to spend as much of it as possible with you, although not for a moment did you ever let yourself believe he had any feelings for you other than sexual. You weren’t even sure you wanted him to develop them, truth be told, as this thing you had was a fling. Come the end of summer less than a month from now, he’d move out and you’d start the second and final year of your novitiate, so whatever it was between you had no future.

Still, he kept writing you songs.

Some he’d sing quietly in bed so you’d fall asleep listening to his angelic voice, but the latest one, Church, he’d also asked you to come see him perform in a concert. And so, you’d lied to Father Jimin again, claiming the ancient kettle in the kitchen was broken and a new one needed to be bought. What’s a sin more to secure your one-way ticket to Hell?

Jungkook had warned you this song was not PG-13. He’d be the one singing it, not Amber, and he’d begged and begged you to wear one of his huge t-shirts to the concert with nothing underneath, refusing to tell you why. Leaving the abbey dressed as modestly as was expected of a novice, you changed outfits in the venue’s toilets. You didn’t know why you’d agreed to it but the first line of Church explained his request.

You're wearing nothing but my t-shirt Call me shallow but I'm only getting deeper, yeah Stay on the ground until your knees hurt No more praying, baby, I'ma be your preacher

He half whispered the whole verse into the microphone, all while his eyes pierced yours from the stage. You couldn’t look away either, entranced by his voice and presence. So far from where you were sat, how could he make you feel as though the air had run out in the whole venue?

And I'll keep leading you on If you keep leading me into your room The drinks are all gone But that's fine, baby, so am I

You remembered the date Jungkook had talked about taking you out on and how… standard it now sounded to you as he turned his attention to the girls who cheered for him in the audience. Was it scripted? Something he said to all of them to lead them on? The more you thought about it, the more you realised he’d never actually take you skating. No, you were just for keeping his nights busy.

His gaze found you again.

I'm about to take you back to church (back to church) Well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst? Yeah Baptise in your thighs 'til it hurts (you know it hurts) 'Cause I'm about to take you back to church (oh yeah)

I'll keep you up until the sunset Speaking in tongues, yeah, we ain't done yet (yeah) Don't take my verses out of context I know it's weighing on your conscience

Those last two lines… Further confirmation your relationship was just sex and that you shouldn’t read too much into anything he said, or feel guilty for sinning by having a friend-with-benefits. It was self-contradictory of you to feel down about him not reciprocating your feelings, but you did. Don’t they say love is irrational?

Despite how sad you’d got, the night didn’t end with the concert, but with Jungkook fucking you without restrain. When he was inside you, nothing else mattered.

You were in the back of his van, parked somewhere near the abbey yet not enough for anyone to hear the loud moans that each of his thrusts caused, even with the windows open not to melt in there.

“Fuck, keep moaning for me,” he grunted, gripping your waist to keep you in place.

“Keep fucking me, then…” Jungkook scoffed, would’ve commented on how dirty he’d turned you had he not been so close. You’d come already yourself, but were more than glad to let him go on until he did too.

“Since you’ve got such a big mouth,” he said, panting, “why don’t you put it to good use?”

It took him most of his willpower to pull out and remove his condom. You sat up and opened your mouth for him to shove his hard cock in, swirling your tongue around the tip before closing your lips tight around it and starting to bob your head to take all of him. A bit more experienced now and having learned to love sucking Jungkook, you knew exactly how he liked it done. You could feel it, his cock twitching against your tongue as you savoured it, letting you know he was going to come.

He pulled back again to jerk himself, and you began rubbing your clit, aroused again by the sight between your spread legs. “I thought you were done?”

“Yes, but you’re so hot…” you moaned, and he huffed out a laugh. Biting his lip harshly as he ogled your naked body and the way you touched yourself, it wasn’t long until he came all over your thighs, your own release following.

Jungkook smirked when he was no longer out of breath. “Dreams do come true.” He was staring at your thighs dripping with his cum and your own juices, and you realised he was talking about Church’s ‘baptise in your thighs’. You were about to smile when the rest of the song came to mind, and suddenly you didn’t feel like it anymore… Once Jungkook had cleaned you up with a cloth, he lay down next to you. “Come here.”

You always hoped he’d say that, even though he never failed to. So resting your back on his chest, he held you from behind, caressing your hands in a comfortable silence. It was then that you noticed the blank spot between the tattoos in Jungkook’s wrist. It was tiny, but seemed intentional.

“Are you not inking this bit?”

“I’m saving it for a small symbol, maybe a letter.” He kissed your temple. “Your name’s initial, what do you say?”

Your lips committed to it before your brain did. “Do you get tattoos of the others?”

Jungkook frowned. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he did. “What others?”

“The other girls you sleep with.” There was no jealousy in your casual tone, but it was still petty. Jungkook shifted so he could face you. He was indeed frowning, both perplexed and offended.

“There are no others,” he promised, serious as you’d ever seen him. “You trust me that little?”

“I didn’t think I had to trust you. Aren’t we just hooking up?”

Jungkook rubbed his eyes as if the confusion was giving him a headache. “You thought I was sleeping with other girls and said nothing?”

By what right could you ask him to be faithful in a relationship you planned to end soon? Besides, what if in doing so, you annoyed him enough to stop wanting to be friends? If sharing him with others was the only way to have him, it hurt, but you’d do it. You looked down as you whispered, kind of embarrassed, “I guess I do like you that much…”

Jungkook raised your chin with his curled index finger, made you look at him. He despised the sadness he saw in the depths of your eyes, the one you were trying to repress. “You’re much more than sex to me. I worship you and if I could, I’d spend every waking moment next to you.”

In a small pause, you tried to rack your brain. “Is that from a song?”

“No, but it should be. I’ll write it down later.” Jungkook nodded, agreeing the rhyme had potential. Still, he wasn’t going to let you change the subject. “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

He is? That did take you off guard.

“You shouldn’t be, I’m a novice,” you said anyway at your most hypocritical.

Jungkook sighed, “What’s so wrong about it? Don’t you love me?”

You didn’t want to lie to him. A smile made your lips stretch before you answered, “I do,” and softly, Jungkook kissed them. Every time he pulled back from a kiss, it felt like it had been too short, no matter how long it lasted. Like you needed more because you could never be sated of him. “Does this mean… we’re dating?”

“I mean, you’re technically engaged to Jesus, and I’m not a guy who likes sharing,” Jungkook joked before giving you a peck and returning to his previous position under you. “If you don’t wanna be just lovers, you’ll have to break up with him first.”

You answered nothing. Should you listen to him, though?

Around two weeks of bliss sprang from your love confessions, where it became hard to pretend you weren’t mad for each other in public, such as when he’d whisper in your ear how provocative you looked in your habit and you giggled like a schoolgirl in love—which, technically, you were. Your parents barely made it into your thoughts, as they were filled to the brim with Jungkook.

From the moment they were over, it all went downhill. Worse, it fell into an abyss.

You had just come out of class with other novices when your hand was grabbed by someone who dragged you through the hallway to head upstairs. “Sorry to steal her, sisters, it’s urgent!”

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you asked as he led you into your cell in a rush, closing the door for privacy. “You can’t be in here during the day–”

“I’ve found a way.” Only then did you notice how excited he was, a grin across his face. “A way to pay for your university.”

His aunt had been the one to tell him, at the beginning of the summer, that he must plan ahead as an adult now that his parents had turned their back on him, but it wasn’t until he fell for you that he actually started doing that. He was sure he wanted you to be by his side on whatever path he took, for his future to merge with yours somehow.

You, however, knew this conversation would not end well. “Enlighten me.”

“Bangtan is going on a nationwide tour next year.”

“Oh my God, that’s great!” You held his hands and grinned with him. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Y/N, this means I’ll earn a lot of money.” Then, you looked away. “With what I’ve got saved up plus that, you can afford to go to uni, even a private one, and we don’t have to live with the boys, we can have a place of our own! On the road we won’t even have to sweat about that, our company will pay for everyth–”

You freed your hands from his grasp, said with a nervous laugh, “You’re going a bit fast, Jungkook…”

His grin faded. “What do you mean? Isn’t money what you need to get out of here?”

“I’m grateful you want to take care of me but I can’t leave, you know why.”

“Are you serious right now?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, your parents are gone. I know it’s hard but you have to move on, I don’t want you to wither in this place when you have a chance at happiness.”

“Just because you chose to let your parents down doesn’t mean the rest of us want to.” You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, the sound of Jungkook’s heart breaking reaching your ears. Or was it your own?

It took him some long seconds to process you’d said that, then answer, “I told you how they were to me, forgive me for not giving a shit about them.”

“Well, mine are a different story. I do care about them.”

“And not about us? We can’t be together anymore after I leave the convent. Have you not thought about that, or were you going to end things like they meant nothing? Because for weeks, I’ve been trying to find a way to have a future with you.”

“I never asked you to,” you sighed, welling up. You might not have, but a part of you had wanted to. Wanted to go with him too. “There’s no way we can have a future together.”

Jungkook teared up as well, and you hated yourself for it. He was being met with unjust meanness from the person he genuinely loved. You sucked so bad.

“What am I to you, then? What have I been these past months?”

“A distraction.”

It wasn’t a lie, and that’s what hurt the most. You loved Jungkook, and yet, you’d used him to set aside the pain of your parents’ loss and the guilt that was consuming you for being a sinner. You were always going to dispose of him like a toy outgrown, regardless of everything he’d done for you.

He stared for a while, but you couldn’t meet his eyes out of shame. “That’s good to know,” he muttered before storming out, leaving you in a puddle of tears you deserved to be drowned in.

You trudged your way to class after a grey morning in the library. There was still no passage from any religious book that excused your countless sins and promised the salvation of your blighted soul, but that didn’t worry you so much right now. What did, was Jungkook.

He was likely avoiding you—for which you couldn’t blame him—though you doubted meeting and apologising for the ugly things you’d said would be a remedy to the damage done. Not that you didn’t mean them, but they could’ve been said with tact. Jungkook’s wicked crime was loving you, after all.

So busy were you missing something as random as his cologne that you didn’t notice until the end of the class that everyone kept stealing glances at you, whispering to each other afterwards. Even if a tired demeanour wasn’t deserving of such a disproportionate reaction, you still blamed the barely two hours of sleep you’d got for your sisters’ scandalised looks, but another novice approached you in the hallway out of pity to let you know you’d actually made the convent’s news.

You froze in your spot when she said it was because Jungkook had spread the rumour that you’d been sleeping with him.

No, please... Tell me he hasn’t.

Leaving your sister where she stood and running off to find him with the disapproving gaze of every other person you passed burning into your skin, you prayed you were inside a nightmare harder with each stride.

Jungkook couldn’t have betrayed you. Someone must have seen or heard you and put two and two together, right?

Such theory turned into dust when you saw him sat in the cloister surrounded by girls like the day you’d met, playing a melody in the guitar for their attentive ears. Somehow, you knew he’d done it then, and on purpose. You started to feel sick as you approached them, whether because of the summer heat or the knife stabbed and twisted in your back, you didn’t know.

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook didn’t bother to look up as he said, “If we were still dating, I’d totally be shaking at that sentence, Y/N.”

Some of your sisters giggled, others bit their lip not to. You went red, begged, “Please.”

Albeit reluctantly, he stood up and followed you to an empty hallway. You didn’t know whether you were more upset, scared, surprised, or disappointed, but the smell of the cologne you were missing earlier managed to calm you down a little, as Jungkook’s company tended to do. Your stupid body seemed to not have caught up on the fact that he was the cause of your hurting.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly.

“What do I want? To know how you could tell everyone about us, Jungkook, how you could do this to me. I’ll be expelled! And I don’t have parents or a family that will take me back if I go apologise to them, I have nowhere to go. Is that what you want? For me to be with you because I have no other choice?”

“Of course not, we’re done,” Jungkook assured you that wasn’t his plan, which you believed. He hated your guts, his dark eyes told you. “But now you’re not tied to a place you don’t really want to be in.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t do this out of revenge.”

“So what if I did?”

You stared at him for a while, speechless like he had the time you’d last met. “And here I thought you’d proved me wrong.”

“In what,” Jungkook asked in a scoff, “becoming a nun now that you’ve been dicked down?”

The coldness of his tone stung your heart. In disbelief, you shook your head. “No, in that there was more to you than what first meets the eye.”

A grain of shock broke through the mask of indifference Jungkook was wearing, probably because your words weren’t visibly said against your better judgement this time, but while seeing him through the same lenses as his parents did. You looked at him just like them the night they’d kicked him out, in a way he had hoped you never would.

And how could you not? You’d thought you knew him, yet he’d gone ahead and ruined your life. Maybe you never did know the real Jungkook at all, who was now too taken aback to come up with an answer before another novice approached.

“Father Jimin wants to see you, sister,” she said, after which you took a deep breath, nodded, and followed her without so much as giving Jungkook one last glance.

In his office, sat on his desk, Father Jimin was quiet. Had been so since you’d come in and sat down.

One of his elbows rested on his chair’s arm and two fingers pressed on his closed lips as he thought of what to say. You already had an idea of what it would be, and it made you no more ready, fists clutching the skirt of your lap.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed in a sigh. It struck you how it was the first time in the few years you’d known Father Jimin that you didn’t see a smile on his face, or at least friendliness. He was the kind of person who always saw the best in people but right now, there was nothing good left in you. “I’m truly at a loss for words. I never thought you’d do something like this, or that I’d find out from other mouths.”

Tears blurred your sight at the memory of him telling you he was proud of you. “I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness, but I’m begging you, Father. It was the mistake of my life–”

“You broke your vows, Y/N. Defiled a holy place.” Oh… Jungkook had admitted to that as well? Chin trembling, you pressed your lips together not to cry. “Lied to me about it and God knows what else… This behaviour cannot be tolerated. You can stay in the abbey until you find a job and a place to live, but you are dismissed from this community, if not excommunicated.”

You sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore, “Father, please. I can’t let my parents down, their last wish was that I become a nun–”

“Isn’t it your wish? Were you lying about that too?” Your head lowered in shame and Father Jimin leaned back into his chair with a loud sigh. “You should have thought about your parents before getting involved with Jungkook. Be grateful they aren’t here to see you stray this bad.” He waited for you to say something, but shame kept you from it, as he was right. “You may leave now.”

Everything had happened so fast that a week later, you were still assimilating it.

Except when necessary, you barely left your cell. Dreaded both the judgemental looks of your sisters and the non-existent ones from Father Jimin, who ignored your presence whenever he had to suffer it in the chapel or the refectory. Not to mention running into Jungkook. To your knowledge, he’d been kicked out too, was sometimes seen moving boxes from his cell to his van. There wasn’t much for him to pack, so you guessed he was dragging the process. What for, you tried not to care.

That was the main reason why, helped by the yellow pages, you’d been job-hunting through the telephone. Not that it was better or worse than going in person, because nobody wanted to employ an ex-novice anyway. They literally hung up when you mentioned you’d been expelled from the convent—as expected, to be honest—but lying again was not an option. You’d learned your lesson the hard way.

Eventually, you did manage to land an interview for a job. Given it didn’t pay that well, it’d be a while until you could afford to move out of the abbey and even longer until you’d step in a university as a student, which was frustrating, but at least you didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave. Since you weren’t a novice anymore, nobody batted an eyelid at you heading outside the afternoon of your scheduled interview.

You were near the main door when, out of nowhere, Sister Daeun stopped you to talk.

“My nephew’s told me everything. I can’t say I approve of your relationship, but it does make me feel better that there was love involved. A lot, apparently,” your gaze averted to the ground, “which makes your decision to break up with him out of respect for your parents all the more admirable. It was wrong of Jungkook to make it public, he knows that, and he would like to apologise and give you the money he made this summer.”

“I couldn’t take it, sister,” you opposed. “It’s his. He needs it to pay rent, he’s moving in with Hoseok and Taehyung.”

Wait, was that why he hadn’t left yet? Because he wanted to wait until September so he didn’t have to pay for August?

“He’ll make much more when he’s on tour,” Sister Daeun insisted. “This is the least he can do for you. That I can do for you, too. You’ll always be my novice, Y/N, no matter what.” Without a second’s thought, you hugged her tightly. It was solacing to know there was at least one person who saw past your sins. “Jungkook’s gone to get the money but he won’t be here until late, Bangtan is opening for another one of those rock bands in a concert tonight. He’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

“I was just going into town, so if you tell me the name of the venue, I’ll stop by. He must be there doing a stage rehearsal.” You remembered the light in his eyes when he’d explained to you everything about the vocation he was so passionate about, how sweet his smile was… No. No. You shouldn’t feel anything after what he’d done. “I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible.”

That turned out to be yet another bad decision.

Once your interview was over, you rushed to the same venue you’d seen Jungkook perform Rock God and Church.

Paying no mind to the fans at the entrance who looked askance at you for jumping the line, the security guy let you in when he recognised you. Memories of the two nights you’d previously been there stormed you while getting backstage, especially how fast your heart had beat because of the racy lyrics of the songs and the way Jungkook had looked at you from the stage.

Now, it died inside your chest as you watched him make out with Amber at the end of the otherwise empty hallway.

He had her pinned against the wall, hands gripping her ass to press their bodies together and lips devouring hers as though he couldn’t get enough. Amber’s hands were wrapped around his neck, and she now grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull his head back and start kissing his neck. You saw how Jungkook smirked at the action, turned on by her dominance.

Both in their rockstar outfits, they looked like a perfect match, so you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been dating all along. If that boyfriend of hers Jungkook had told you about was none other than himself.

Forcing yourself out of your shock, you exited the venue through the back as quickly as you could, saving the cascade of tears that was already building up in your eyes until you were alone.

It wasn’t that you were going to forgive him and expected his apology to come with an offer to date him again, but even after everything he had done to you, you still loved him. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn't help it. You were so stupid that you wished he'd find you there, sat on the cold concrete, and just held you in his arms until you stopped crying.

The next day you slept through breakfast, and would’ve stayed in your cell until lunch had Father Jimin not summoned you to his office again.

Curiously, this time around he looked… sorry?

“I’ve been made aware of some information this morning,” he said from across his desk with a nod.

“About me?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh, God, what now?

“I can’t answer that because it has to do with a confession, but it’s made me realise I was wrong.” He leaned in, gaze moving around as he tried to think of a way not to reveal anything disclosed in the confessional box. “I should’ve been more cautious instead of welcoming just anyone into our home. Sometimes, I fail to see beyond the surface, and it results in the harm of others. A harm I pray it’s possible to heal from.”

“I don’t understand…”

“What I mean is that you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can go back to being a novice, or take as long as you need to resolve any doubts you might have. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

“But, why, Father? The things I did– You forgive me?”

“I’ve seen you regret them even if they weren’t your fault, so yes, I do.” You frowned. “I just hope you can forgive me too.”

On your way back to your cell, you walked slowly, using all your energy to figure out what Father Jimin had been talking about. When the answer popped up in your mind, you turned around and ran through the abbey. If Jungkook had done what you thought he had… Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find him, as you almost crashed together when turning to the next hallway. Had it not been because he’d grabbed your waist in time, you would’ve fallen.

When he realised it was you, he let go and stepped back. “Y/N, I wanted to talk to y–”

“Did you tell Father Jimin you raped me?”

The question took him by surprise. “He talked to you first… Wait, I thought confessional secrecy was unbreakable?”

“He didn’t tell me, I deduced it on my own.” You crossed your arms, disappointed you were right. “Why would you do that? I can’t make sense of it.”

“It was the only way to get the abbot to take you back. It’s not like he can report me to the police, and I’m leaving anyway… I told him I made you do things and that you were scared to tell anyone.” Jungkook looked everywhere but your eyes. “I’m really sorry for outing you. It was fucking childish of me and you didn’t deserve it. I was just so mad at what you said… but I know that’s no excuse.”

A part of you wanted to apologise for that and even ask him if it was too late to start over, but another reminded you of what you saw last night and stopped you, along with the one that should hold the most weight—your parents. It was a miracle you’d been given back the chance to honour their wishes, so you couldn’t ruin it again.

“I also wanted to give you this.” Jungkook handed you an old school bag. “My aunt told you what’s inside, right? She mentioned earlier you were going to come pick it up yesterday at the venue.”

“Yes, I forgot…” you lied. “I was at a job interview and got out quite late.”

“That’s okay. Did it go well?” He shouldn’t have asked, it was none of his business anymore. The interest in you had just rolled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“It did, actually.” Both of you knew that if you went back to being a novice, you couldn’t take the job, but neither addressed it.

“Swell.” Jungkook put his hands inside his pockets, looked at you like he wanted to say much more. “I hope you have a happy life, Y/N. I really do.”

“Wait, are you saying goodbye? You’re leaving now?”

So soon?

“Yeah, poor Father Jimin thinks I’m… Well, you know. I wouldn’t want someone like me around you girls either. Plus, it’s September today, summer’s over,” he said with a forced smile. “Hoseok and Tae are waiting for me in the van. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Before he could leave, you walked closer and gave him a hug. It didn’t feel right even when he wrapped his arms tight around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, what with everything left unsaid, but you needed to feel his warmth one last time.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. And happy birthday.”

Two years later

“You’ll like Bangtan, they’re wicked hot,” Chloe said for the third time, rather trying to convince herself than you, as she knew rock wasn’t your type of music. “Especially Taehyung, he’s my favourite!”

The concert was supposed to start soon, so hugging yourself and rubbing your arms, you stood on your tiptoes to check if the long queue ahead was moving any faster. “Well, I’m glad they’re hot, ‘cause I’m freezing.”

She, Chloe, was a friend you’d made on the first day of university. Lots had changed.

“It won’t be long now, get the tickets ready,” she gave you something to do, to forget about the February cold.

As she’d promised, it took less than five minutes for the two of you to enter the biggest venue in town. Such was the fame of Bangtan now. You were only glad the security guy from the other times wasn’t there to recognise you, since Chloe was unaware of your past as a groupie. It wasn’t that you were keeping it from her… You just didn’t feel like talking about him.

“Come on,” she grinned while grabbing your hand, all excited, “let’s get close to the stage!”

The concert lasted what felt like an eternity.

Not only did you have to endure Rock God and Church again, which opened the wound of a relationship you still hadn’t healed from, but you also had to keep your head down so as to not be spotted by the band members.

It was going alright, though, until you made the mistake of glancing up, and saw him. And he saw you.

Minus the fact that he wasn’t a blond anymore, Jungkook looked the same as always. Not that that was a bad thing. Whether in his rockstar outfit or covered in goat milk, he took your breath away. He skipped a few notes due to the shock of seeing you in the crowd but as the professional he was, he managed to make his faltering almost unnoticeable and keep playing the guitar like nothing had happened. But he wouldn’t lose you out of sight.

You wanted to look away, leave, even, but found you couldn’t, like Jungkook had put a spell on you. A spell that only broke once Bangtan thanked their fans for coming and left the stage.

Chloe, who’d been cheering throughout the whole show, now went on about how amazing it had been, how hot Taehyung had looked. Not really listening, you automatically nodded to everything until you heard, “Let’s go to the toilets before a line forms, I really need to pee.”

“Sure.”

You held her purse while you waited outside, recalling how Father Jimin had warned you seeing Jungkook again would only make your wound sting—to which you’d agreed! The only reason you were there was because you’d promised Chloe. Chloe, who was taking so long.

With a sigh, your eyes neglected that random spot on the floor they’d been fixed on and flew around to end up on those of Jungkook, who was walking towards you. The few people in the line to use the toilets gasped and watched their idol, but he didn’t care, walked past them like they didn’t exist. You, weren’t sure what to feel when he was finally in front of you.

“Hi,” he said with a faint smile that you returned rather awkwardly, given the fact everyone was looking at you. “Can we talk… in private?”

Every cell of your body told you to decline, that Jungkook was a book you shouldn’t pick up again even to leaf through, but your head nodded on its own accord. Hope you don’t mind, Chloe.

It was upstairs to the now deserted first floor he led you, and the balcony of which you stood next by, where you could see the few people left heading out. They didn’t hold your attention for longer than a second, though.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jungkook spoke almost shyly, yet his eyes didn’t leave your face until he forced them to, not to weird you out. How long had he been staring like that? But you looked so pretty...

“I’m here with a friend from uni, she’s a fan.”

He didn’t understand. “Wait, you ended up leaving the convent?”

“I did finish my novitiate but I never took the vows. They let me live there, though.”

It wasn’t a decision you made overnight, obviously, and one Father Jimin and Sister Daeun worked hard for many months to make you see it wouldn’t have upset your parents as much as you believed, much less get them to stop loving you. In fact, you were still coming to terms with it, not entirely free of guilt, but a mix of secular and spiritual life was proving to be exactly what you needed.

The university and the abbey, parties and Mass, your new friends and your family… You could have both and save your soul from damnation. Now, could you save your heart from breaking all over again? It felt like it already was, physically so close to Jungkook yet so far that an uncomfortable silence had fallen between you.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

You looked at him. Cut to the chase, alright… “I’m not. A-Are you?”

Was that a sigh of relief he let out through his parted lips, or did you just want it to be? “No.”

“I thought you’d be dating Amber.” Jungkook frowned slightly, so you went on and confessed, “I saw you together the night before you left. I came to pick up the money and… Well, none of that matters now.”

Horror painted Jungkook’s face. That was how you’d remembered him? Getting off with Amber?

“She’d just broken up with her boyfriend,” he wasted no time in saying. “Neither of us was thinking clearly. It was a one-time thing, an adrenaline rush after a concert.”

You hugged yourself, lips pressing together at the details you didn’t want to hear. “You don’t need to explain, we weren’t dating anymore…”

“Fuck, I’m sorry that you’ve thought all this time that I was with her,” Jungkook apologised anyway, gaze falling to the floor in shame. “Actually, I know that it doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Yeah, I wish it did. Count… Or better yet, I wish I’d gone with you,” you laughed, at the fact that you meant it.

“What?” Jungkook took a step closer, as though he’d misheard and wanted to make sure he got it this time. Suddenly, you realised what an idiot you were being.

“Nothing, forget it.” You turned around to leave before the lump in your throat summoned any tears, but Jungkook took your hand to stop you. He couldn’t let you go, even if he’d been the one to leave last time.

“I’m glad you didn’t come with me, Y/N, and that you got to do what you wanted. But I do wish I hadn’t ruined everything and hurt you. If I could go back, I'd punch me in the face.”

It didn’t mean you’d forgotten, but the truth was that you’d forgiven what he did a while ago. After all, “I was also a dick to you.”

“If you’re a dick, then I like dick.”

Actually, you hated him.

You hated even more that that made you laugh but it was because of Jungkook’s clownery that you first fell for him. And you’d never stopped loving him. He smiled fondly, caressing your hand. On his wrist, where there used to be a small uninked spot, now was your name’s initial. Neither had he, it seemed.

“Does this mean you want us to…?”

His eyes opened wide, feigning scandal. “What, here? I’d sooner do it in a chapel.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling. “How about we start with a date? Say... Friday at 5pm? I know a good roller-skating rink.”

⇢ drabble: faith

#bts au #btswritingcafe #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts jungkook #rockstar jungkook #bangtan imagine #jeon jungkook scenarios

3K notes · View notes

specialagentartemis · 3 months

Note

First Impressions: Doug Eiffel

for this ask game

First impression

Oh my god I can’t stand this fuckin guy. He is SO annoying. Minkowski is a far better woman than I am because if he treated ME like that I would have just left him to drown in space. Little bit disappointed that she didn’t.

Impression now

Favorite podcast protag Basically Ever. I love him and I want him to be happy and he’ not but I want him to be!!! The heart of the team, the social glue who holds everyone together. Character development leaves me in awe. He went through Some Shit and the way he is makes a lot of sense, in retrospect, but also, him getting hit over the head with You Need To Try To Do Better and him truly trying to do better was so well done and I am So impressed.

Favorite moment

Choosing one is hard but I looove “Mayday” when we see Eiffel cast off in space and he shows how clever he actually is to survive!

(Also: “GODDAMN IT RENÉE DON’T DO THIS”)

Idea for a story

It’s extremely spoilery postcanon stuff but I would love to write him developing a friendship with [REDACTED] that absolutely no one else is happy with. The Tension. They get each other now in a way no one else does.

Also SOMEDAY I will finish the Box 953 story where Eiffel comes in clutch to save the day by completely misunderstanding the assignment. A Hero

Unpopular opinion

Eiffel’s relationship with Hera is an extension of the theme of parenthood—the parallels between Eiffel’s relationship with his daughter Anne and Pryce’s relationship Hera are extremely strong in “Limbo” and “Memoria.” The parent who feels a sense of ownership over their child, and in the process gives them a traumatic brain injury because they can’t let go of that sense of control. Eiffel’s relationship with Hera is affirming and healing for both of them—Eiffel can’t undo what he did to Anne, but he can do better this time by treating Hera like a whole person and an equal who gets to have her own choices and have her opinions heard; and Hera getting to have a relationship with someone who has that respect for her. They've mutually adopted each other, but there are times—especially in “Bolero” at the funeral—where Eiffel is taking that parental role and trying to do it better than he previously did, or she previously got.

The father-daughter aspects of Eiffel and Hera’s relationship are pretty thematically relevant to both of their character arcs. And it doesn’t have to be infantilizing or childish because uh adults have parents too, and the relationship between Cutter and Pryce is a third parallel there for a man and his adult daughter when he can’t let go of that feeling of control over her either.

Favorite relationship

Minkowski and Eiffel’s incredibly slowburn friendship to becoming so incredibly important to each other… it’s everything to me

Favorite headcanon

This man is aromantic and I have textual support of this. He has never heard this word before in his life tho.

Also this man went to Catholic school and that strongly informs very much of his general demeanor regarding authority.

#elexuscal #ask game #Wolf 359 #I love Doug Eiffel actually

68 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 9 months

Text

The Fourth Season (Rewritten)

Part Two: First Day Blues

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Religious and Anti-Religious Themes, Mild Smut, Sex Scene

Previous Parts: 1;

Day One

You slowly rolled over as the alarm from your phone started to increase in volume and then you groaned as you sat up, your hair especially wild this morning.

You sat there not exactly excited to be up at this hour, but then you knew that today was the day your life would change forever.

Reaching high above yourself, you stretched, feeling the pop and creak of your bones, which was something unusual for you and probably due to the fact that your new living arrangements were somewhat strange for you still.

Just two months ago, you separated from your husband and high-school sweetheart James and moved back into your parents’ house in Cork before embarking on your new acting journey.

You were now staying in Wexford to film a movie called “Small Things Like These” and since this was your first movie role, you were rather nervous about it. Thus, you didn’t sleep well which was pretty much what happened whenever you were placed into unfamiliar surroundings and the last two nights were somewhat uneasy for you.

The fact that your ex was working on set with you did not help either. He was in charge of logistics and placed you into a small unit with two other cast members named Lorraine and Emma respectively.

Being around strangers, however, didn’t bother you and after you hopped out of bed, you started about your morning routine, bounding across the tiny apartment, putting together a bag that would be needed for the day.

‘Are you ready? And excited?’ your new roommate Emma asked and, after taking one final step in front of your mirror, you nodded.

‘As ready as I can be’ you said before you took in a deep breath and, together with Emma, you walked out the front door of your apartment which was conveniently located right next to where the film crew had set up camp.

During your short walk downstairs, Emma tried to talk to you, but you were too nervous to respond. You struggled to focus and you could not fight the urge to start humming to yourself as you reflected on things including your separation from James after a total of eight years.

***Flashback***

Two months ago, James admitted to infidelity which occurred when he was working on a set in the US and this mishap ultimately cost him his marriage.

You told him that it was over and, since he was the one with the higher income between you both, you decided to move out and leave him with the house you shared in Cork.

At the time, your parents were supportive of your decision, thinking that you simply needed a break but when they learned that you engaged a solicitor to handle your divorce, all hell broke loose.

As such, during the past two months, you were dragged through the so called “process” the church envisaged for members of your congregation and since both your families were strictly catholic, you had little but no choice than to attend numerous counselling sessions with James.

Thus, you sat down with the monsignor and a counsellor of your church on three separate occasions and every single time James repented and thought that you would forgive him for his indiscretions. According to the counsellor, it would have been the reasonable thing to do, but for you, it was not.

You told James to “go to hell” in no uncertain terms and this caused a shitstorm like you had never seen before.

Your parents were outraged by your attitude towards the church and your beloved husband and the fact that you took up a role in this upcoming movie made matters even worse for you and your family as the movie itself criticised the catholic church and their past actions.

Of course, for James to work on set and for you taking the role, were two entirely different things, which just highlighted again the double standards imposed by your kin and it were exactly those double standards you could no longer accept.

Thus, you applied to the courts for divorce and you most certainly took the role which you knew would change your career forever, seeing that this was a movie produced by two famous actors.

By this time, you had spent all your days learning and practicing your lines. You were sent your scripts and read them every day, over and over again, and soon began to realise that, what was expected of you, was much more than you had anticipated.

Amongst the dialogue and acting out different kinds of emotions, there were two intimate scenes you had to participate in and, in one of those, you would be almost completely naked. All of the scenes were with Cillian Murphy whose wife you had to portray in the movie and, unbeknownst to you, when you signed up, these scenes were scripted entirely at the discretion of the screenwriter to gain more interest from the audience.

Given your lack of sexual experience, this was something that concerned you. You had only ever been with James and your sex life had been rather vanilla to say the least. Nonetheless, you tried to get into character for the role and considered your own sexuality and femininity some more. You wasted a good eight years with your husband of being boring and unadventurous and, now, this had to change. You at least needed to learn how to flirt and be seductive and, sure enough, your best friend Siobhan, who lived in Dublin, gave you some good pointers.

The role required you to be stunning, to be open, and have the body language of a woman in control of her own emotions. This clearly wasn’t you, so you had some learning to do.

According to the script, you were the one who needed to lead at least one of the scenes now scripted and this was something you were unsure about. How, on earth, could you do this with someone like Cillian Murphy? By what you have seen of his work, he was an incredibly talented actor. He was much more experienced than you and he was also twenty years older than you and, yet, you had to lead the scene? Seriously?

***End of Flashback***

Making a quick right, you walked straight onto set with Emma. It was her first day too but, unlike you, she had worked with Cillian and some of the others before and thus was not completely overwhelmed by all the cameras and strangers.

‘Y/N, Emma, welcome’ a blonde woman by the name of Lorraine said to you and, just as you reached for her hand to shake it, the director, Tim, came flying by and pulled you aside.

‘You are early. Good’ he said before telling you that Lorraine, who happened to be Cillian’s personal assistant, would be looking after your schedule as well which, according to him, had just changed due to an equipment break down on set three.

‘Okay, right’ you panicked while Lorraine was flicking through her notes in a haste. Everyone seemed to have been stressed out that day because of the technical issues on set and Lorraine was no exception.

‘What scene is up first then? you thus enquired carefully after waiting patiently until, suddenly another man appeared and hurried you along.

‘We will start with scene four, then move to scene eleven and then, this afternoon, we will shoot scene thirty’ he told you and you were lucky that he handed you a running sheet as, otherwise, you would have gotten rather confused by now.

‘Scene thirty? Today?’ you asked with some confusion and, whilst you knew that the scenes for the movie were to be filmed out of order, this scene itself made you panic.

‘Yes. At 3 o’clock’ Tim, the director, then said before taking off again in order to deal with the camera issues on hand.

‘Dear god, they are throwing you right into the deep end, don’t they?’ Emma observed as she looked at your running sheet and saw that scene thirty was an intimate one with Cillian.

‘I am not prepared for this’ you pointed out to her anxiously especially since you have not even met your co-star yet but Emma reassured you that you would be fine.

‘No one ever is but Cillian is easy to work with. You will be fine’ Emma then reassured you, which is when Lorraine made a somewhat inappropriate joke.

‘I am sure some of the other cast members would happily trade places with you’ she teased before pulling you along and giving you a calm and relaxing stroll through the street following which you spent some more time rehearsing your lines.

An hour later…

Your first scene was with Emma herself who played one of your daughters and, even though Emma was older than you, the make-up department did a fantastic job in making you look somewhat ancient.

This scene itself was easy to film. It took less than three takes and both, the director and Cillian, who had also stepped on to set a few minutes ago, were impressed by your efforts.

“I can see that you are doing well” Cillian said as he greeted you and his demur most certainly put you at ease. He appeared to be so comfortable even if surrounded by all these cameras and this really impressed you and calmed you down.

“It was an easy scene” you told him almost shyly before the director called you both. You had literally no time to chat until you were up, filming your second scene with the man himself.

This scene was more dialogue heavy but you were convincing and passionate nonetheless and, just as you filmed the end of this particular scene, Emma still watched you quietly and smiled.

She acted like a big sister, taking you under her wing and her presence clearly calmed you down as well.

After about six takes, Tim and the others were happy with your work and praised you again. According to them, six takes for something like this was not a lot and you appreciated their kind words.

After you were done with the scene, you took a break and spent some more time with Emma, following which you were sent to the dressing rooms.

You had to get changed for your next scene, which was the rather raunchy scene between your character and Cillian’s character and, whilst there was not much dialogue in this scene, it was the scene that concerned you the most.

You were meant to lead this scene and, by this point, you had barely met the man who the scene was with. Cillian and you only exchanged a total of five sentences which, in your opinion, was not enough in order to get comfortable around him without wearing any clothes.

An hour later…

Luckily for you, you had waxed your legs and every other part of your body just two days ago and yet, when you sat down and a tall woman applied your make up, she still found a hair or two which she plugged away.

Unlike before when you were wearing somewhat ugly brown clothes for your scenes, this time around, you were sitting there in beige underwear while being assessed by the staff and, quickly, a few scars and blemishes were patched up with some foundation.

You were then given some lingerie which was raunchier than anything else you had ever worn before. It took your breath away and you felt incredibly vulnerable when you put it on. On top, you had to wear a woollen cardigan and you were also given some suspenders to put on which you knew your co-star would have to take off slowly.

‘Looks great. We are ready, I think’ the make-up artist eventually said and, out of respect for Cillian, you quickly brushed your teeth before having your lipstick topped up.

Regardless of all the preparation and your deep breathing techniques, you were out of your depth with a scene like this and, when you first walked onto the so called ‘closed’ set dressed in nothing more than a cardigan and underwear, you began to fidget a little.

You were the first one there and sat down in the area indicated for you. It was a tiny bed in the middle of a room which was said to be inside the main characters’ house. There were no windows, but several drapes which divided this part of the set from the rest of the building.

Eventually, Tim the director joined you and so did a camera man, followed by your co-star, Cillian and the crew’s intimacy co-ordinator shortly thereafter.

‘Hey’ Cillian said quietly and you could see that this was as at least a little awkward for him too. ‘Are you alright? You look nervous” he then asked while taking a seat next to you and you carefully bit your lip and stammered out a response.

‘Yes, for a matter of fact, I am nervous. This is my first day on set and I didn’t expect to film a scene like this quite so soon” you admitted while assessing your partner inadvertently as he wore nothing but a worn pair of brown trousers.

“Yeah, timing is not on your side, is it?” Cillian chuckled before apologising for the change in schedule which, you knew, he had nothing to do with, and just as you both sat there, making small talk, the director and intimacy co-coordinator came to see you both.

‘Now, this is what I need from you both’ the director began to say before explaining the scene to you.

According to Tim, it was you who had to take control while , yet, Cillian was to remove your cardigan, suspenders and bra. Tim also explained to Cillian where to place his arm so that your breasts would not be visible on camera before the intimacy co-ordinator addressed your comfortableness level with this kind of scene.

‘We know that Cillian is used to being naked on set but, to you, this is probably something new and my word of advice is to ignore the fact that we are here. You can improvise on the lines and we will shoot the scene in three steps, giving you a break in between’ Tim then furthermore explained and, with that, you nervously nodded before Cillian and you both waited for everyone to get into place.

***

Just as Tim was about to call action however, the team was interrupted as James barged on to scene, relaying yet another issue on set two.

“You cannot just barge in here. This is a closed set” the intimacy co-ordinator said somewhat angrily as James was standing there now, talking to both, Tim and Cillian, while you tried to cover up your semi naked body with the tiny cardigan you had.

“I am sure it is fine. He is her husband” Tim said, dismissing the fact that James saw you like this and you felt it be necessary to correct him.

“We are separated actually, but I am still fine” you pointed out, causing Cillian to look at you with some surprise before pulling his large jacket off the chair behind the camera and handing it to you.

“I am sorry” he then said and you were not quite sure what Cillian was apologising for, but nodded nonetheless before the three of them wrapped up their discussions.

***

After they were done and everyone was back in situ, the director outlined the scene to you once more and, after Tim indicated to the team that everyone was ready now, you took off Cillian’s jacket and placed it aside.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian then asked and you immediately snapped out of your somewhat intrusive thoughts about how to pull this off.

‘Just nervous. Sorry’ you admitted shyly in response and Cillian smiled.

‘Like I said, there is no need to. We all dislike these kind of scenes. Just follow the directions of the crew and you will be fine. I promise’ he then reassured you and you nodded all while some sweat was building up on your forehead.

‘Okay, I will try. I am ready I think’ you then said, causing Cillian to nod and, whilst it was obvious to him that you had not done this kind of scene before, he remained calm and patient.

‘Me too’ Cillian then said, shortly after which Tim called “action” and you began your dialogue.

Cillian’s presence, however, threw you off guard completely and you needed at least three goes to even get your lines right at the beginning of the scene before you could even move on to the next part, which is where you were wrapping your arms around Cillian’s body.

You did, however, get there in the end and the director called cut. You took a breather and then commenced part two of the scene, which was also the longest and most uncomfortable part you.

‘I don’t know what to tell them. It has been fifteen years…” Cillian began to say with heavy Irish accent as part of the dialogue and you pulled him in tight.

‘You don’t tell them anything and, at least for now, forget about!” you said as you felt the bulging muscles of Cillian’s core.

“I am trying Eileen. I am trying, alright?” he asked and, just as you took in a deep breath and inhaled the fresh scent that accompanied him, you began to stammer.

‘Cut’ the director called and you quickly apologised.

‘You weren’t wrong when you said that you were nervous’ Cillian acknowledged and you wanted to responded with a snappy ‘duh’. Of course you were nervous. You were there, with a stranger, hugging his naked body.

‘I am sorry’ you told him and, just as the director gave you both another quick break, Cillian had a chat with you about the scene.

‘Take a deep breath and try to think about being somewhere else, with someone else. A park maybe, with someone you are attracted to…’ Cillian began to say before giving you some pointers on how to feel comfortable, naked, in front of the camera. But what he didn’t know was that the cameras weren’t what threw you off. It was him. You felt some strange kind of attraction towards this man all of a sudden and even though he was twenty years older than you. What he also did not know was that he was only the second man who had ever seen you like this and you knew that, within minutes, he would be taking off your cardigan, unclasping your bra and kiss you. This, too, was new for you and you began to panic.

‘A park? You want me to imagine being naked in a park, kissing someone I am attracted to?’ you then eventually asked him and laughed to cover up your nervousness and this, too, made Cillian laugh as well.

‘Okay, maybe a park was a bad example. Maybe your house. Your bedroom. Somewhere else, where you would usually have some privacy’ Cillian chuckled and you momentarily closed your eyes and tried.

‘Okay. Let’s do this’ you then said again and Cillian nodded before giving Tim the go ahead.

‘Okay then’ he confirmed and, after about three goes, you managed to say your lines and found yourself in Cillian’s embrace.

Just as the script demanded, Cillian then slid the cardigan off your shoulders and it landed on the floor while you tried to push him on to the bed. He let you, but each time you tried to be dominant, it looked awkward and, eventually, Tim called cut again, for the tenth’s time.

‘Okay, this is not going to work. Let’s move on and revisit this part later. Maybe we can even cut that part out. Let’s see what we get’ he then said before directing you to both get on to the bed which is where he would pick up on the scene.

You felt a little deflated but, just as you were supposed to do, you climbed on top of Cillian’s half naked body and he sat up and caressed your back.

You tried your best not to make contact with his intimate region as you rocked back and forth, allowing your clothed breasts to move against his body while caressing his face until, finally, he kissed you and you began to crumble again.

The nervousness inside your bones was evident to the director and so was the fact that, contrary to the script, you did not take the lead. You were unable to take the lead and Cillian realised that you were getting rather uncomfortable.

‘I am so sorry’ you said to Cillian who was nothing but professional and polite despite the fact that, no doubt, he didn’t really want to kiss you over and over again. By this point, you were up to take eight. Eight kisses and you simply couldn’t get it right.

You looked shy, afraid and nervous and Cillian was quick to hand you his jacket again as the scene was called off once more.

‘Don’t be sorry, alright!’ Cillian said. ‘It is your first day and a scene like this, on your first, is pretty harsh’ Cillian said before telling you about his embarrassing scene in a movie called 28 Days Later.

‘That is very reassuring, but I feel like a failure right now’ you said and there was something endearing about how he was so polite, yet his voice shook your core.

‘You are not. I have seen your stage work, Y/N. It was the best I have seen a very long time and this is exactly why I wanted you for this role” Cillian said and, after yet another break, the director picked up on the scene again and, this time around, gave you slightly different instructions.

As before, you tried to follow them and, this time around, you finally managed to get some of the scene right, including a close-up kiss with Cillian.

But then, the next part of this scene involved much more and when the director and the camera man gave Cillian instructions again on how to move and how to remove your bra so that your bare breasts were not visible on screen, your nervousness returned.

This man was about to take off part of your underwear. Your bare breasts were going to be visible to him and, the worst of it all, was that there was actual skin to skin contact between you. Bare chested and semi-naked, you had to pretend to have sex. You had to moan and pull his hair while he had to pretend to bite your neck. It was a raunchy scene and, after it took you one hour already to get a twenty second kiss and some mild physical interaction on camera, you didn’t know how long it would take you to get a scene like this wrapped up.

You did one take, then another, then a third and, eventually, during your fourth take your bra finally came off and the embarrassment and shame was written all over your face.

You tried again, and again and again but between that, the moaning and hairpulling, it soon became too much for you and Cillian put a stop to it. The scene was not going to get done today and you knew that this was your fault.

You felt deflated and thought that, perhaps, you were not meant to be an actress after all. Perhaps they should have casted someone older or someone with more experience.

You did not even know why you reacted like this in the first place. Why was this so god damn difficult? Was it because of your lack of experience or was it because you felt somewhat flustered in Cillian’s presence? The fact that you thought that he was incredibly attractive did not help you. It made it so much worse and you felt like a little school girl who was too afraid to steal a candy bar from the school cafeteria for the fear of getting caught by the principal.

Of course, no one should ever do that and you thought that this was the most ridiculous analogy you could ever think of but, in the end, you could not come up with anything else.

When you filmed this scene (or at least tried to film this scene) your body was waking up to the idea of having another man pressed against your body for which you did not have much experience at your age. But Cillian did, and tried to guide you, with his arms pulling you and manoeuvring you like a delicate doll. And yet, his efforts were futile as your actions did not translate to the dominance your character was meant to portray.

It was a disaster and the director was not exactly impressed by how the filming day ended and neither were you.

***

Later that day, back at the small unit which you shared with Emma, you sat down and rehearsed your scenes for Day Two. You had two scenes with Cillian and, luckily for you, neither of them were intimate ones. Despite this, you knew that you had to pick up your game but Emma believed that you were doing much better than you had thought.

‘Listen, your scenes are great. Sex scenes are awkward and after having worked with Cillian in the past I can tell you that he will not be annoyed or frustrated with you. He is one of the producers of this movie and probably called off the scene to do you a favour. He is a nice and caring guy and is very professional even though, sometimes, he acts like a twelve year old child’ Emma laughed after you told her in great detail about what happened that day and what you thought that Cillian might think about you now, causing you to panic about tomorrow’s schedule scenes with him.

‘He seems nice. But still. I failed. Miserably’ you said but Emma shook her head and pulled you off your seat.

‘What are you doing?’ you wanted know and all she had told you was that you had to come with her.

“We are going for a quick drive” she announced and you didn’t dare to question her.

***

Fifteen minutes later, you eventually arrived at a small cottage outside Wexford and got out of Emma’s car.

As you stood there, wondering what was going on, Emma began to knock on the door and, after about a minute, you were surprised when Cillian opened it, seeing that this was his rather secluded accommodation for the duration of the show.

‘Hey’ Cillian said before smiling and furrowing his eyebrows all at the same time.

‘Do you want to come in?’ he then asked politely as Emma already marched through the door and you were still standing there, frozen to the spot.

‘Uhm, yeah. Sure. Thanks’ you stammered as, in his pyjamas, he was a little less intimidating than being half naked.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Cillian then joked, seeing that, clearly, Emma was not there, at the cottage, just for fun and, when she asked him for a quick chat about today, you began to get a little nervous again.

‘A chat? Sure’ he said. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’ he then asked with a smile. His demur was generally friendly and down to earth.

‘What do you have?’ Emma asked cheekily while looking through his fridge.

‘Guinness or tap water. I am out of wine’ he laughed, causing Emma to roll her eyes.

‘Tap water’ she chuckled and Cillian’s look turned to you.

‘I don’t drink alcohol, so water please’ you told him and he went to pour you and Emma a glass of water with some ice.

‘You don’t drink? At all?’ Cillian then asked surprised and you nodded while he handed you the glass.

‘So?’ Cillian then asked, waiting for Emma to fill him in and, when she asked Cillian to tell you the story about their first ever intimate scene together on stage, he began to laugh.

‘Fuck, really?’ Cillian chuckled before realising why Emma wanted him to spill the beans on his little mishap. What happened today was clearly embarrassing for you and Emma wanted you to realise that it was not as uncommon as you thought.

With that in mind, Cillian did, indeed, tell you what happened and, according to him, the stage production had to be called off for three days because he inadvertently broke Emma’s nose.

‘How?’ you wanted to know, causing Cillian to shake his head. He could laugh about it now and so could Emma but, back then, more than ten years ago, he was petrified.

‘We rehearsed a scene on stage and it took about ten takes. It was not as intense as the scene we filmed today but it was a difficult one for us both. Then, when Enda finally called cut, I got up, leaning against one of the props and it slipped. My forehead went straight down and I hit Emma’s nose, breaking it’ Cillian explained reluctantly and you gasped.

‘Yeah, I was naked and covered in blood while Cillian almost fainted’ Emma laughed, causing Cillian to roll his eyes.

‘I did not almost faint’ he ought to clarify but Emma continued to tease him.

‘You so did. You turned pale and got all dizzy’ she said, causing even you to laugh.

‘Right, so today wasn’t so bad after all then?’ you acknowledged and both Emma and Cillian shook their heads.

‘Honestly? This scene should never have been scheduled for today. It was your first day on set and I spoke to Tim about it. We will just give it another crack in a few weeks or scrap it’ Cillian said and you appreciated his words.

‘I don’t want to scrap the scene. Clearly, you think that it is important’ you then said but Cillian laughed.

‘It is not that important. The production company wanted some sex and nudity, that’s all it is’ Cillian acknowledged.

‘Aren’t they getting to see your naked butt in the first twenty minutes? Isn’t that enough’ Emma then teased, causing you both to laugh.

‘Apparently not’ Cillian told her and, just after you had a little laugh yourself, you asked them both how they ever manage to film scenes likes this, namely raunchy intimate scenes.

‘Cillian? You’ve done a few more than me. Tell her about them’ Emma went on to say but Cillian simply laughed again.

‘What works for me will not necessarily work for you. I honestly just try to switch off and focus on my lines and the directions given to me’ he explained while shrugging his shoulders.

‘Great. I did try that and, quite evidently, it did not work’ you told him.

‘It might after we have some more scenes together. Like I said, I think that it was a mistake having a scene like this scheduled for the first day on set even if it was scheduled that way simply due to the mechanical breakdown on set three. You’ll be fine and we can talk through the scene beforehand if you like’ Cillian suggested and you nodded nervously.

‘That’s true. You will get to know each other first before you have to make out again. That always helps’ Emma chuckled, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Your comment is not very helpful Emma. Making out? Really? This is art, work, or whatever you want to call it. But it is not making out’ Cillian laughed, trying to cheer you up and you sure had a quick chuckle yourself when he commented on Emma’s suggestion.

‘Well, I tell you what I do Y/N and no offense to you Cillian, but when I film a scene like this I think about the man in my life and just switch off. So, if you have a boyfriend, think about him. That might help with the comfort level’ Emma explained causing Cillian’s eyes to widen.

‘I do not. I am single. Happily so. I only just separated from my husband’ you said and Cillian couldn’t help but comment again.

‘Yeah, about that…” he said with some concern before carrying on. “How will you go working with him on set? He is our logistics manager and Tim is rather concerned about you having separated from each other” Cillian pointed out seeing that it was him who convinced Tim to cast you in the first place and in spite of the fact that you were married to someone else employed by the production company.

“Honestly? I hate his guts! But I am professional enough to put my personal life aside and concentrate on my work, so don’t worry. I will just be fine” you told him, hoping that James would be able to do the same.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List

@fastfan

@elenavampire21

@dolllol2405

@allie131313

@cilliansangel

@coldbastille

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@cdej6

@kathrinemelissa

@landlockedmermaid77

@crazymar15

@damedomino

@lauren-raines-x

@miss-bunny19

@skinny-bitch-juice

@odorinana

@cloudofdisney

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@allexiiisss

@geminiwolves

@letsstarsfalling

@ysmmsy

@chlorrox

@tommyshelbypb

@chocolatehalo

@music-lover911

@desperate-and-broken

@mysticaldeanvoidhorse

@peaky-cillian

@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@romanogersendgame

@randomfangirl2718

@missymurphy1985

@peakyscillian

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal

@livinginfantaxy

@rosey1981

@hanster1998

@fairypitou

@zozeebo

@kasaikawa

@littleweirdoalien

@sad-huffle-nerd

@theflamecrystal

@0ghostwriter0

@stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders

@datewithgianni

@momoneymolife

@mcntsee

@janelongxox

@basiclassy

@being-worthy

@chaotic-bean-of-smolness

@margoo0

@vhscillian

@crazymar15

@im-constantly-fangirling

@namelesslosers

@littlewhiterose

@ttzamara

@cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon

@dolllol2405

@pkab

@babaohhhriley

@littleweirdoalien

@alreadybroken-ts

@masteroperator

@stevie75

@shabzy96

@rainbow12346

@obsessedwithfandomsx

@geeksareunique

@laysalespoir

@paigem00

@lkarls

@vamp-army

@luckystarme

@myjumper

@gxorg

@eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld

@cristinagronk16

@stylesofloki

@faatxma

@slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles

@myjumper

@cloudofdisney

@look-at-the-soul

@smellyzcat

@kittycatcait219

@theliterarybeldam

@being-worthy

@layazul

@lyn07

@kagilmore

@50svibes

@mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby

@bitchwhytho

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128

@mrkdvidal1989

@minxsblog

@heidimoreton

@laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby

@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl

@mrkdvidal1989

@bluesongbird

@dudde-44

@gasolinesavages

@kissforvoid

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23

@lovelace42

@bookklover23

@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@moonmaiden1996

@marlenamallowan

@cyphah (cannot tag)

@majesticcmey

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@throughgoeshamilton

@alessioayla

@elenavampire21

@justforfiction

@cilliansangel

@alannielaraye

@satellitelh

@pandoramyst

@duckybird101

@snixx2088

@kylianswag

@alessioayla

@pono-pura-vida

@iraisbored69

@howling-wolf97

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@weirdo-rules

@lovemissyhoneybee

@dazaiscum

@esposadomd

@etherealkistar

@ur--mommy

@throughgoeshamilton

@celverzonkwombatsludge

@cyphah

@atomicsouldcollecto

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #small things like these

118 notes · View notes

betterbooktitles · 1 month

Text

What makes a Jesuit boys’ school so entertaining is the irreverence in the face of certain damnation. There were adult authority figures, some imbued with the ability to forgive Mortal Sin, telling us we were going to Hell if we didn’t take our morality seriously. In response, we laughed and cracked jokes. We laughed so hard, in part, because the stakes were so high. If you could mock the Most Important Question, you could likely laugh off anything.

Humor was what opened me up to the idea that I didn’t share the values of the men teaching me to be a “good” person. Humor also taught me that I didn’t have to accept any of it.

The first time I heard shade thrown at the Theology department was during my freshman year when my favorite teacher sitting in a room in the fourth floor English department, in an entirely separate building from the Theology and History classrooms asked “what movie are they showing you over there this week?” It was true that for half the year, Theology teachers showed movies 40 minutes at a time to make important philosophical points. They screened The Matrix, Life is Beautiful (watched in tandem with our reading of Man’s Search for Meaning), and, my personal favorite The Shawshank Redemption which they showed to us in the summer before 9th grade to let us know what Jesuit school would resemble: something close to surviving solitary confinement. If you had music in your mind, you might make it out. I don’t doubt the efficacy of showing these movies to us to teach moral lessons. It was a better strategy than trying to force teenagers to read. I had never heard anyone mock the department, though, especially not another teacher.

To be clear, this scrutiny, at least of the lay teachers in the Theology department was justified. They fed us one-sided anti-intellectual drivel that had almost nothing to do with Catholic Dogma. Instead of learning about a biblical text, we spent hours listening to a guy tell us evolution was “just a theory,” that being gay was a choice, and that abortion was wrong in any instance (whatever your personal beliefs, understand that it’s kind of hard to hear both sides of that argument at an all-male school where the adult men were the authority on ethics). Then they showed us clips from Fox News of Terri Schiavo and told us the “correct” Christian response to the news.

One day, again in my freshman year when I was scared to question anything because of an inordinate fear that I could be thrown out of school at any moment, our Theology teacher pressed play on The Emperor’s Club (a 2002 Kevin Kline movie about a boy’s prep school that served in our teacher’s mind as some ethic antithesis to the more beloved (and frankly more entertaining) Dead Poets Society). A student in the back row raised his hand, and our teacher paused the movie. We sat in the dark room and rolled our eyes. Make this quick, buddy. We’ve got a movie to watch here!

“Jeff?” our teacher said, lifting his eyebrows.

“Yes, I was wondering about the prayer we read before class today,” Jeff said. He was a senior, a bit portly which was only noticeable because many kids did not bother buying new dress shirts every year. Once the stress of school forced you to eat your feelings four years in a row, you wound up with a gut putting pressure on your old shirts’ buttons. “It says in the prayer…” Jeff continued, “that Jesus descended into Hell. What’s that about?”

“Well,” our teacher said, looking excited to finally talk about religion instead of answering some weird kid’s question about the ethics of having sex with aliens should they ever land on Earth, “according to scripture, we know the gates of Heaven were closed for a time, so when Jesus died he descended into hell first to free other righteous souls…”

“Yeah, a quick follow-up on that,” Jeff said, sounding interested, “does anyone believe this shit?”

The cackles that erupted in the room nearly overwhelmed our teacher’s angry tirade. Jeff was sent to the Vice Principal’s office to await his judgment. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment you were allowed not only to question those teaching us about religion but you were allowed to reject the faith altogether.

From there, every argument began to collapse, mostly through funny moments:

A teacher tried to tell us IVF was wrong because “you have to jerk off into a cup. It’s not right.” One kid announced: “I’ve done weirder!” Guffaws. Cheers.

Another teacher claimed gay sex was always wrong because the sex itself was not ‘open to creating human life,’ to which a brave gay student volunteered “Oh, I’m open to it. I’ll keep trying and let you know if there’s a miracle.” Applause.

When a teacher said video games could be considered a sin if they distract you from work, someone, half-asleep in the front row, let out a loud “Ah, shut up!” that made us all giggle.

My fellow students weren’t playing the game, arguing with the teacher on his terms, using logic. They were dismissing the arguments flippantly, and no adult could reply unless they were funny themselves.

Read the rest here.

#funny #lit #lol #writing #dan wilbur #essays #essay #long post #long reads #atheist #atheism #religion #catholic #catholic school #literature #humor #better book titles #books #reading #memoir

41 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 2 months

Note

we want the juicy details on your sexual awakening

It's not that juicy. It's actually fairly sad, but someone else may be at this point and need to hear it.

Warning - questionable consent, technically a form of sex work, total power exchange, abusive relationships, mental health issues, learning to adapt, and becoming a survivor instead of a victim.

I was a really really good kid and teen. Like I addressed, I got my kicks from fanfiction. I dated once in high school, and it never went further than kissing (which caused my first break up and broken heart). My first "What is happening to my body," came from watching The Mummy, and it wasn't something I could discuss with anyone besides my older brother who did the best he could to try to talk to me about safe sex.

I moved away from my parents in 2014 and went to a college about 4 hours away. Aka- close enough to mom and dad to drive home once every couple months, not close enough for them to randomly show up. I was an art major focusing on art history and visual design, and that required me to take a life drawing class.

Tender 18 year old Liz, a starving college student working two jobs, ended up catching the eye of one of the male models, and we started talking a lot. I found out after a month of him taking me on dates, surprising me with gifts, and him staying up with me when I'd be lonely because I didn't live on campus have friends, that he was married and him and his wife were looking for a girlfriend for him since she had a boyfriend on the side. I don't regret this choice because it shaped who I am today, but I stupidly agreed to go into it without having set my own boundaries and limits.

He had rules for me. Rules I can recite clearly to this day: he dresses me, I do not make financial choices without him, I am to tell him where I was at all times and leave my tracker on, he decides what I eat and when, no drinking, no smoking, and no other partners. If I listened, he would pay my tuition, books, help with rent, etc. At the time, I did not realize that I was entering a total power exchange dynamic, and he knew that.

Those starter rules evolved into more... sex based rules, and after 3 months, I ended up losing my virginity to him after he told me refusing was breaking his rules, and if I broke his rules, my allowance was cut off, and I really needed help with rent, friends. I am not proud of that decision, but that decision was made.

I stayed in this relationship with him hanging financial security and my own naivety over my head for close to 10 months. My dad is a law enforcement officer, and he is the one who noticed the change in my personality and looks.

I had waist length dark brown hair. I came home blonde with my hair cut to my lower neck. I stopped wearing Converse and Vans and started wearing heels and sandles more. I would get really anxious and upset if I wasn't near my phone or could not find it to meet my required check-ins. I cried. Alot. Yelling made me actually panic. My dad made me sit down with a female investigator and answer questions about everything.

When she was done and confirmed to him what was happening, he then proceeded to get my brothers, a uHaul, and my apartment keys and move me back home. He had my phone bill at that point, so he blocked the couple, her boyfriend, and their friends that I had the displeasure of meeting and ensured I never heard from them again.

Cohearsed consent is not consent. The second I started therapy and realized that, I spiraled. The weight of everything set in, and I realized I had been a victim of sexual assault. I began to cope by being hypersexual. Within a year, I'd had sex with close to 30 people trying to reclaim my body and, in turn, endangering myself until I met my ex fiancé.

When I met him, things changed significantly. He was a stepping stone in my healing and helped me find religion and value in myself beyond my body. Ironically, my healing and finding the wrong religion (catholics don't seem to be a fan of spirituality) is what led to our engagement being called off. I was 21 when we stopped seeing each other.

I slowed down at that point signicantly and cut off all sex. I was done with it and decided never again. I could please me better than anyone else could anyways. Then, I met baby daddy, and we started as strictly friends with benefits. He is the safest dom I've ever had, the kindest man I've ever met, and from the bat, he understood me more than I understood me. He saw me for me and cared for me despite the damaged goods.

He triggered the true awakening. We took sex between us slow, exploring things gently, talking about what I wanted to try and keeping track of what I liked, what he liked, and meeting in a happy middle. He indulged my want to explore with other women and just sat and watched. Then, when we felt I was ready, he introduced me to the swinging/bdsm lifestyle, and it helped me process the remaining bits of trauma I had with him beside me every step of the way. He helped shape me sexually into who I needed to be to heal and then who I deserved to be sexually for me.

I don't know at what point FwB turned into us living together and telling each other how much the other means to us almost daily, but now we're here, cuddling on couch, exhausted from taking care of our daughter, and discussing which one of us gets the last chocolate peanut butter overnight oats packet and *whispers* marriage.

Him and Sophia are the happy ending 18 year old Liz thought she was losing when she was desperate to pay rent. He helped me heal, learn who I was in terms of sex, and gave me the safest place to land.

One might say I'm pretty attached to him forever now 🤣

Ps - let me tell ya, missionary isn't boring when it's with someone who thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, pregnancy stretch marks, and all. 💕

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons

35 notes · View notes

trafalgarlawsfeathercoat · 2 months

Text

Survivor’s Guilt

based on some MESSED UP (i loved it) art i saw on here (like this and THIS that made me cry)

WC: 895

CW: death, suicidal thoughts, religious imagery (i HC law as a former catholic because of the nuns on Flevance idk)

Trafalgar D. Water Law learned very early on that everything and everyone he loved would eventually be ripped away from him, washed away like footprints in the sand by high tide.

He was born to live this checkered life, cursed by the middle initial forced upon him at birth. He had no choice, no say in the matter. They say the Clan of D were meant to bring the Dawn, to usher in a new age, but all Law wanted to bring about was some peace and quiet. Just for a single moment.

But that was apparently too much to ask for.

Law craved nothing more than the everlasting promise of death as he tripped over the still bodies of his friends and family, corpses piling up with every step he took, but he was urged on by a will not of his own. He had to keep going. He must keep going.

He trudged along reluctantly, day after day. Life wasn’t so cruel as to only deal him bad hands- no, they had the audacity to give him hope every once in a while. A light at the end of the tunnel before that tunnel caved in too.

Being saved by Cora-san, meeting Shachi, Penguin and Bepo on Swallow Island, forming the Heart Pirates, his tentative friendshi- alliance with Straw Hat and his crew. All these moments deluded him into believing that maybe, just maybe, he could dare to dream of a better life. A happy life, even.

Law didn’t have any lofty ambitions such as becoming King of the Pirates like his Worst Generation rivals, contrary to what others believed about him. What could a place called ‘Laughtale’ offer a man like him anyways? Up until recently, he lived for the singular purpose of fulfilling his savior’s wishes, but he couldn’t even do that right. For as many messes as he had to clean up for others, Law could argue he left behind more.

Left behind. The one thing he could count on being.

The hands that touched him all faded into a distant memory, specters that haunted him whenever he closed his eyes at night. They called out to him like a siren’s song, caressing his face as they asked why he wasn’t strong enough to save them. It was no wonder Law gave up on sleeping a long time ago.

He closed his eyes now, begging to the higher powers he no longer believed in to please, please, finally grant him this one mercy. Salty sea water flooded his lungs as his body lost all its’ capabilities, any energy he had left after facing Blackbeard sucked dry as he was dragged deeper below the surface. This was all his fault. Law should have known better than to have hope for the future, to have deluded himself into thinking things were finally going according to plan.

Damn that man in the Straw Hat for giving him something to believe in back in Wano. He should have known better. There was no God; that’s why the nuns of White Town were all dead.

In the depths of the murky water, faces began to appear behind his eyelids. The other school children, begging him to come with them to safety. His parents, love shining in their eyes as they reached out their hands. Lami, looking up at him with so much trust and adoration. Cora-san and his stupid, crooked smile.

‘Wait for me, I’m coming.’ Law thought as his body sunk lower and lower beneath the waves. He could finally go home, after all this time.

As the abyss called out to him, so did another voice.

“Captain! Captain, please! You can’t die!” It wailed.

Law was suddenly pulled back above the water, dragged by the collar of his shirt to safety. He wrenched his eyes shut even harder, refusing to open them and accept reality. He had been ready to rescind the borrowed time he’d been living on since Flevance if it meant never having to deal with the loss of his loved ones again. He coughed once, twice, expelling the foreign liquid from his body as a large paw pounded on his back repeatedly.

“Bepo.” Law groaned out miserably, recognizing the Mink’s cries anywhere.

“Bepo, we have to go back.” He pleaded pathetically, his desperation apparent. Law didn't have to open his eyes to know that they were the only ones here, wherever ‘here’ was. There was no use pretending to be strong anymore, for he no longer had a crew to be strong for.

“I’m not going back! Trust them, Captain!” The Polar Bear Mink refused Law’s orders outright.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his crew, it was that he didn’t trust the world. History was repeating itself as it always did.

Law threw himself backwards onto the sandy beach they’d washed up on, shrugging off Bepo’s attempts at comfort with more force than necessary. It was only a matter of time before he was dead too.

He should’ve known better than to let anyone in, to think for a second he could walk through life anything less than alone. He should have known better than to hope that this time, surely, he could be happy.

Once again, Trafalgar D. Water Law was alive while everyone around him faded into dust. After all, the weak don’t get to choose how they die, do they?

#a writes #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #bepo #heart pirates #i’m so sad #one piece fanfic #one piece fan fiction #the heart pirates are ALIVE #not coping #not clickbait #one piece #spoilers for ep 1093 #op 1093

46 notes · View notes

neonbrutalism · 1 year

Text

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Ship Comics!MattFoggy (Part 1)

Hello My MattFoggy Friends.

Are you sad about Daredevil: Born Again more than likely not including Foggy? Do you agree that he is so crucial to Daredevil and also he and Matt are married?

Then let me introduce you to ... the Daredevil comic! Because if you thought Matt and Foggy were married in the show, wait until you read the comic.

One thing I hear a lot is that there's almost 60 years of Daredevil comics, way too much complicated history and detail and you can't be expected to read all that. And to that I say... correct. And you're not expected to. I myself have not read all of volume 1 nor parts of volume 2, 5 or almost any of 6/7.

You just gotta pick what seems interesting. I like the Waid Run! I started there and have picked and chosen other runs. Nobody actually expects you know the complete history of the characters. It doesn't matter! Did Matt dad die before or after he met Foggy? Did they go to Columbia or Harvard? How old are they? How long did Matt and Elektra date?

The answer: who cares? Not even the comic writers can keep that straight. Just go with what you want to happen! Nobody is going to call you out. If you want dead characters alive, go for it! If you want to import characters from the MCU into your fic, please feel free! It's a 60 year soap opera. Do want you want. If you really want to know, just read a wiki summary.

If anyone gets weird or salty in your comments … that person is making some very weird choices. Do not engage. Good God, it's a fanfic. Do whatever you want. Just reply "lol, yikes" and move on. I am 35 years old and I am giving you grown-up with a job in an office adult permission to do that!

The major differences between the comic and the show are:

Matt is a redhead. Matt having red hair is pretty much the only difference that remains constant. Everything else is different and changeable writer-to-writer. Except early in Volume 5, when he was drawn to look like Charlie Cox and the miniseries between 5 and 6 where in some issues, everyone was copied from the Netflix show and it was weird.

Anyway:

Foggy's hair is usually short but he has 1990s anime girl bangs like Sailor Moon. If you like long-hair Foggy, sure, he can grow it out! He's sometimes blonde.

In earlier runs, Matt is sometimes shown to have been blinded as a teenager, 14 to 16. In more recent runs, he was a child like he was in the show.

Jack Murdock died when Matt was either in college or in law school, either before or after he met Foggy. It changes depending on the writer. He's also been written as dying only a few years after Matt was blinded.

Matt doesn't just have enhanced senses... He has an entirely new, unique sense, radar sense, that functions separately from his other senses. I don't know how. So, if he loses his hearing, he can still understand the world around him.

Stick trained Matt and once, pushed him off a building but didn't abandon Matt until he was in college. Comics Matt doesn't quite have the abandonment issues Netflix Matt has. He has a whole lot of other ones.

Matt wasn't crushed by Midland Circle. But he DID basically die in the storyline Born Again and have to be nursed back to health by Maggie.

Matt's not actually very religious in the comic. He was raised Catholic and he gets more religious when he's especially distressed (and due to inspiration from the show) but for the most part, he is not a very devout Catholic. However, in volume 6 and volume 7, he is (but it's kind of a weird ninja cult way idk i'm trying not to editorialize in this)

Foggy's class. In the show, he is from a lower-middle class family that loves him and Matt. In the comics, Foggy's family is very wealthy and they are pretty disappointed in Foggy. His birth mother, Rosalind Sharpe, is a huge asshole and hates her son and Matt both, but has tried to use them in the past for her own gain.

They're both huge nerds. Foggy's supposedly "cool" in the show but he is not, I assure you, in the comics. Comics!Foggy almost certainly cannot recognize a Taylor Swift song. Comics!Matt likes experimental jazz. I want to give them both swirlies.

What if you want to write comics-verse with Butcher Shop Foggy and Religious Matt? Then do it! It's fine! It's a big multiverse!

I just want my MattFoggy friends to have content.

Now on the downside, as this comic's been going on for a while, Matt (and other characters) are kind of assholes to Foggy about his weight. I ignore that bit. As with all comics, you have to ignore some shitty stuff sometimes because it all varies writer-to-writer.

Anyway, you came here for some MattFoggy Married Evidence, right?

Okay, here we go, presented with the help of my friend @froggynelson and all my chums on Discord and the Avacados in Love server...

In no particular order, a small selection of Matt and Foggy being in love.

One time, Matt got possessed by a demon and Foggy free-climbed a castle to rescue him. He is the only person able to get through to Matt to help save him. Shadowlands is otherwise, unfortunately, bad.

Something else from Volume 1 is that Matt was supposed to be the better lawyer of the two of them. Of course, since then, everyone's agreed Foggy is the better lawyer. But really, they're better together than either of them are apart. (This is the bit that made me think "oh they're GAY gay")

In volume 3 and 4, Foggy had cancer. Matt gave up his (already compromised) secret identity and moved to California in order to help him.

It was extremely sad!!

They had to fake Foggy's death!

He got better :)

Now Tumblr's post editor is chugging at this point, so please join me in part 2 - The Quest for More MattFoggy.

#daredevil #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #marvel comics

219 notes · View notes

thatsmzbitchtoyou · 10 days

Text

The Temptation Chapter 5

A short one! Priest!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Bucky was not the same after that night. He went through the motions of his priesthood jobs, but his heart was no longer in it. He was still calm and friendly, but the light in his eyes had disappeared when she walked away. It had been four weeks when Father Richards pulled him aside one day for counsel.

“Father Barnes, you have not been yourself as of late,” he started, folding his hands in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Father. I’ve just been feeling a bit…off,” Bucky hung his head in shame.

“Hm,” Father Richards tapped his fingers on his other hand. “Would this have anything to do with Miss Y/L/N in your room a few weeks back?”

Bucky’s head lifted, his eyes wide as he stared at Father Richards. “I…”

Father Richards gave him a soft smile. “Yes, I know. I was coming to talk to you about the plans for the donation from Constance Y/L/N when I saw her enter your room.”

Bucky’s lips tightened as his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Father. I have no excuse for my actions. If it’s any consolation, nothing too…scandalous happened.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, at least not to me,” Richards said. Bucky gave him a wary look. “I’m going to tell you something in confidence because I feel like I can trust you. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors of some priests living more worldly lives outside of their priesthood?” Bucky nodded. “I happen to be one of them. You know how I take a few specific days off during the month and certain weekends off altogether?” Bucky blinked. “Those are the days I go home to my wife and children.”

“Your wife? Children? Plural??” Bucky scoffed. “How? You’ve…”

“Made promises? Covenants? Yes yes,” Richards waved away his concerns. “I also met a woman 27 years ago that I couldn’t live without. She’s not my wife in any legal terms, unfortunately, so I could keep this job as senior priest. But she’s my wife in every other sense of the word. And she and my boys are the lights of my life,” he smiled adoringly. “Johnny just finished college, and Ben just got married to his husband a few weeks ago. They’re working on adopting.” Bucky’s mouth was hanging open comically as he stared at Father Richards. “I understand what it means to love someone and love them so deeply that you feel like you would reject all this,” he gestured to the church around him, “for them. I almost did. And to be honest, I should have. Because it makes me a subpar and dishonest priest to my congregation, and a near absent husband and father to my family. You can’t have both. Now if you choose to stay, then I applaud you for your devotion to God and His church. If you choose to leave and live a life outside of the church, I won’t judge you and will commend your bravery. But I would caution you to be prepared for the inner death you will feel no matter what you choose. It’s up to you to decide which death you will be willing or able to overcome.”

Bucky nodded. He sat there as Father Richards waited for him. Bucky thought through his life. He’d basically been raised to be a good Catholic, being an altar boy and singing in the choirs, going to Catholic school then Seminary. He had had a choice to live a normal life or go to Seminary, and he’d chosen the church because it seemed safe and easy. His parents had been proud of him. He’d been a good student and had risen through the ranks of stewardship and learning quickly to become a priest. He hadn’t realized that the other option could have brought him joy. The church had been his life, so how could he know any different?

Then a fallen angel had stumbled into that life and disrupted everything he knew to be true. She made him question himself, the church, his knowledge of scripture and God, and showed him the joy and light found outside of it. And the one night, the few moments he’d had with her, had made him realize he’d gladly drop it all if it meant being with her.

Bucky gave Father Richards a sad smile as his epiphany shown brightly on his face. “I choose her.”

Father Richards nodded solemnly.

The next chapter is the last one!!

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #priest!bucky barnes x reader #priest!bucky barnes #chapter 5

24 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 4 months

Note

Hii i havr is request for

Rockstar!Sebastian

Could you do fluffy headcanons about reader and seb reacting to their children's first boyfriend or girlfriend their first kiss or something like that

Your choice if you wanna do just Jess or just Marion or both :)

I loved this series so so much

author's note: i apologise if i am severely late for this. oops.

Y/N had been cooking dinner when the front door opened and closed with a bang followed by silence. She looked at the car who was happily snoring on the corner of the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Soon enough, Sebastian was walking into the kitchen with a very concerned look on his face. When this happened, there were usually two ways to deal with it - either complete silent and let him burst out with whatever has happened or move to a regular conversation hoping to put him at ease of whatever had happened.

- So, did you get the kids? Did you drop Mason at hockey?

- Yes, Mason is at hockey. - he went to the fridge and got himself a beer. - That weird kid's mum is bring him home after practice.

- You really should try to learn your kid's friend's name. - she handed him a bottle cap opener. - Did you pick u ...

- Y/N, you don't even know what I caught Marion doing. - he interrupted, taking a large gulp of the beer before starting to take laps around the kitchen like a crazed maniac.

Y/N furrowed her brows. Marion didn't cause much harm, she was a good kid. It was usually Mason who tended to be the trouble stirrer.

- Well? - she crossed her arms. - Are you gonna tell me or are we playing the guessing game?

- It was awful. Marion! My good kid. Jesse's at college and Mason at this point has taken too much from my personality to give me any hope but Marion is my good kid.

- Jesus, Seb, what happened? - she cleaned her hands, walking up to him. - Was she drinking, smoking?

- Worse. She was a kissing some greasy dude.

Her nerves settled as she bottled in laughter. It really hadn't occurred to her that this would happen. Jesse and Mason were boys so Sebastian wasn't as protective of them as he was of Marion. The last time Jesse had brought a girl home, Y/N swore she saw him high fiving Jesse. She just forgot that one day it would be Marion's turn to start dating. That day had now arrived.

- Well, you were pretty greasy when we started dating. - she shrugged but Sebastian only looked more mortified.

- Marion better NOT be dating anyone that resembles me at any point before our marriage.

- Seb, calm down. She's 16, she's bound to start dating.

- No, no. No. See, I'm gonna fix this.

- You're gonna fix this? - she crossed her arms, wondering what this meant.

- She's going to an all girl school, a catholic school, a boarding school. Whatever keeps her away from kissing and boys.

- Well ... you can always kiss at an all girl school. - she joked, enjoying how flared up Sebastian was at the idea of his daughter finally getting into dating.

- She's getting home schooled then! We can afford tutors.

- You weren't this fired up when Jess brought a girl home.

- Jess is an adult. He's at college.

- Jess still brings his laundry for us to do. - she laughed before caressing his shoulder. - She's growing up, Seb. You're gonna have to get used to it.

- We need another one.

- Absolutely not.

- But babe, hear me out, if we have another baby, this time we can home school the baby and avoid these issues.

- No. Besides, where is Marion? Did you bring her?

- Yes, she's in her room.

- Probably talking to boys. - she joked but Seb only looked up. - Seb, I'm just kidding.

- Better safe than sorry!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n

51 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 6 months

Note

Not too sure if you keep up with jp twst updates but have you seen the new Halloween update with the fox dude, Honest Fellow? (Yes that's his name, I'm just gonna call him honest John cause his name's an adjective). I am seriously loving how expressive he is, his devious expressions are so good

i am keeping very up to date with what y'all are doing over there and so far i've been delighted by the idea that, while half of the school's named population is experiencing a prolonged hatecrime in a french catholic school, the other half will be running away to nonconsensual join a circus led by a catboy and nick wilde's humansona. i don't know enough about him to have any major thoughts, but rollo was so fun and it seems like they'll be going just as hard for this event as they did for the glorious masquerade. any event with an ortho ssr is bound to slap and i have no reason to doubt that honest fellow (because i refuse to disrespect such a brave naming choice) will contribute to that.

i don't usually read translations for events but i think i might at least find a summary or something, this time. there's just something about a deceptively charming ringleader with a habit of luring people into his pocket-reality fantasy land that feels like it would go really well with what i do here.

#i don't know if i've emphasized this enough but i am NOTHING if not an ortho stan #and if i wasn't an ortho stan #i'd be an ace stan #and therefore the fact i can't read japanese is really killing me rn #i want to see my boys T-T #and i think the character choice in general for this event was really interesting #ortho is arguably one of ths most mature characters in twst #but he still really struggles with not falling into his more idealistic principles and taking his reality for what it is #whereas kalim is much more childish and constantly punished and chastised for that childishness #despite it being the source of his most impressive traits (kindness perseverance etc.) and the source of his growth #and ace is just sorta in ninth grade #the worst of all sins that he will surely be swiftly punished for #dfjksjdklsjdfkjslk i like this game can you tell #the only downside is that yuu probably won't be there #although i wouldn't be mad if the writers just made it like #the back-to-back worst two weeks of the pc's life #like you get home from your impromptu conversion and then immediately have to go figure out wtf is going on with that weird circus #it's not /totally/ impossible considering the camping events #and it kinda feels like something crowley would do tbh #personal #anon ask

41 notes · View notes

glowingmushroom0 · 9 months

Text

Top Ten TBR for August

1. The Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (currently reading)

Back in December, I was re-watching a bunch of Zhao’s videos on YouTube and in one of them she was promoting her novel Iron Widow. While I’ve never been too into mecha-novels in sci-fi, I decided to give this one a try! I’ve been finding the mechanics of the mechs really interesting, and I find Zetian a very engaging character. It also helps that Zhao explains some of the history of the real-life Wu Zetian in two of her YouTube videos. I still haven’t finished the book, but I am pretty close to finishing it.

2. Epithet Erased: Prison of Plastic by Brendan Blaber (currently re-reading)

This novel is a part of the Epithet Erased series on JelloApocalypse’s YouTube channel, which also includes several trailers for this novel and a part of chapter 1 of the novel’s audiobook. I remember seeing the original show on YouTube when it was coming out and it’s a really fun series! This part of the novel focuses on the story of Molly Blyndeff, a twelve-year-old with an epithet, a power that depends on whatever word the epithet is based off of. The story focuses on Molly’s relationship with her older sister Lorelai, and how her friends support her and try to help her as she tries to stop her sister from expanding her dream world within their family’s toy store. I’m actually listening to the audiobook while writing this post! I really recommend the audiobook version of this novel, the voice actors did an excellent job!

3. Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead by Emily Austen

I actually was recommended this book a couple of years ago by an aunt and a cousin of mine. I had gone to a Catholic school and they both knew I was pan (I still haven’t come out to them as agender though, but that’s because I don’t see or talk to them very often). However, what actually convinced me to try the book was an old friend group that started a book club, and this was their first book. I still haven’t read it because I didn’t end up making it to the meetings, but I am interested in reading it.

4. The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar

This novel I was interested in more from the author than the subject matter, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested at all. I first read Jaigirdar’s Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating and really enjoyed it, so I wanted to read more of her works! That’s when I learned that this was her debut novel, and I wanted to compare the two. Plus, I will always find some joy from learning about different art forms through writing in novels. The most I know about henna so far is from a friend of mine who had another friend who wanted to practice henna on them. Because of that, I’d like to learn more about how Jaigirdar depicts henna artists.

5. A Queer Dharma: Yoga and Meditations for Liberation by Jacoby Ballard

I actually found this book at a book exchange that was at an LGBTQ+ friendly event. My friend and I are both interested in this book because we’re both into learning about different kinds of religion and how to express different kinds of spirituality. From what I’ve looked over with the book it talks about how queer people create their own spaces within Buddhism and yoga.

6. So This is Ever After by F. T. Lukens

I’ll go more in-depth with this particular choice in the next book, however the main reasons why I was interested in this novel is because I had already gotten a book from this author that I was pretty interested in. And after looking through another book of Lukens’s (or Lukens’), they also seemed to be really interested in fantasy, especially magic. I also thought it was an interesting idea that the story takes place after the typical “ever after” of defeating an evil king.

7. In Deeper Waters by F. T. Lukens

Now this is the novel that I originally found F.T. Lukens from, and the main reason why I was interested in reading this novel is because I love pirates. I also found myself hooked from just the summary of the novel. When people say a character is mysterious, I don’t really know if they’re going to be mysterious until they appear in the story. However, the summary does show how mysterious Athlen can be, considering he’s introduced as a prisoner on a burning ship. So, I’m interested in learning more about Athlen just from the summary.

8. Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

This novel has a bit more controversial reason for why I want to read it. I originally got this book because it was popular, and I was vaguely interested, but then I started hearing about debates on whether this is good MLM (men-loving-men, not multi-level-marketing) representation. However, I then had another friend that’s a part of the queer community that read the book and he liked it. So I wanted to read the book to figure out my own opinion on the novel. Plus I thought it would be a good time to read it since the novel’s getting it’s own show soon.

9. Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Trans (But Were Afraid to Ask) by Brynn Tannehill

This book is less for me and more for family reasons. I’m not going to go into too much detail for privacy reasons, but a lot of my family still don’t quite understand much about what it exactly means to be transgender, especially not someone who’s under the non-binary umbrella. So I wanted to read this book and see if it’d be a good fit for some of my family members who do read.

10. Video Game Storytelling: What Every Developer Needs to Know about Narrative Techniques by Evan Skolnick

This book is more for my own learning and future career. My specific dream job is to create a video game story, which would go into scriptwriting. However, most of the creative writing advice and tips I’ve gotten were either for fiction in general, or for short stories and poetry. This book might be able to teach more about scriptwriting, but also how to develop scripts for video games.

#tbr list #tbr #fiction #bookish #bookblr #book blog #nonfiction #lgbtq #lgbt literature #epithet erased #iron widow #everyone in this room will someday be dead #the henna wars #a queer dharma #so this is ever after #in deeper waters #red white and royal blue #everything you ever wanted to know about trans #video game storytelling

67 notes · View notes

burningvelvet · 9 months

Text

Mary Shelley’s Lake Geneva diary from August 2nd, 1816…

“Friday, August 2. — I go to the town with Shelley, to buy a telescope for his birthday present. In the evening Lord Byron and he go out in the boat, and, after their return, Shelley and Clare go up to Diodati; I do not, for Lord Byron did not seem to wish it. Shelley returns with a letter from Longdill, which requires his return to England. This puts us in bad spirits. I read Rêveries and Adèle et Théodore de Madame de Genlis, and Shelley reads Pliny’s Letters.”

This was the day that Percy, Claire, and Byron discussed Claire’s pregnancy and what they were going to do about custody rights. Shelley had already known about Claire’s pregnancy for at least a month and was most likely the first to know, since after he and Byron almost drowned on June 25th he had secretly written a will that left sums to Claire and any person of her choice — her name being near the top of the list along with Mary, his wife Harriet, and all his children. Considering that Byron later believed the Hoppner Scandal (unconfirmed rumours that Claire had a secret child with Percy which was given for adoption or aborted) — and that historians believe Claire and Shelley were probably sexually involved at various periods — some people believe that the paternity of the child was called into question. Claire’s identity as the child’s mother would be hidden from the public to protect her reputation, and Byron and Shelley both accepted responsibility for the child (though Shelley was arguably more attached), although everyone agreed that the child (Allegra) looked and acted like Byron, and was therefore his.

Byron in a letter to his sister about Claire and the rumours surrounding his time at Geneva:

“. . . as to all these ‘mistresses’ — Lord help me — I have had but one. Now don't scold — but what could I do? A foolish girl, in spite of all I could say or do, would come after me, or rather went before, for I found her here, and I have had all the plague possible to persuade her to go back again, but at last she went. Now, dearest, I do most truly tell thee that I could not help this, that I did all I could to prevent it, and have at last put an end to it. I was not in love nor have any love left for any, but I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman who had scrambled eight hundred miles to un-philosophize me, besides I had been regaled of late with so many ‘two courses and a dessert’ (Alas!) of aversion, that I was fain to take a little love (if pressed particularly) by way of novelty. And now you know all that I know of the matter, & it's over.”

A decade later, Claire Clairmont wrote to Jane Williams:

“What would I not give to have an unhappy passion, for then one has full permission and a perfect excuse to fall into a happy one; one has something to expect, but a happy passion, like death, has finis written in such large characters in its face there is no hoping for any possibility of a change. You will allow me to talk upon this subject, for I am unhappily the victim of a happy passion. I had one; like all things perfect in its kind, it was fleeting, and mine only lasted ten minutes, but these ten minutes have discomposed the rest of my life.

The passion, God knows for what cause, from no faults of mine, however, disappeared, leaving no trace whatever behind it except my heart wasted and ruined as if it had been scorched by a thousand lightnings.“

Sadly, Allegra Byron died at the age of five due to a sudden outbreak of typhus in Romagna where Byron had enrolled her in a private convent school. This was a betrayal to Claire, as they had promised each other that Allegra should never be apart from one of her parents, due to Claire’s prediction that something terrible would happen if so. However, Byron argued that having a good Italian-Catholic education would give Allegra higher marriage prospects in Italy than any education she could have in England, partly due to her illegitimacy and partly due to the tarnished reputations of the Byron/Shelley/Godwin households, among other reasons. Claire blamed Byron for Allegra’s death, and she felt that while Shelley sympathized more with her, Mary sympathized more with Byron. Three months later, Shelley followed Allegra to the grave, and the already fragmented social circle would further break apart.

64 notes · View notes

gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

Text

say your prayers - seven.

a year after your scandal, you are thinking about her more and more until it kills you. one night, she was in the same bar as you, and you could barely breathe,

SERIES SUMMARY | your school have church service once every week. of course, as a good little schoolgirl you are, you attend to it. which means you always have to see your priestess, natasha, who you are secretly infatuated with. until there was an unexpected turn that made you feel something else other than good. but maybe, even better.

WARNINGS | 18+ MINORS DNI blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, mother kink, mommy kink, rough fingering, very dark!natasha, slight angst, dirty talking, slut shaming, and pet names.

NOTES | this chapter is not my proudest work, but hopefully you’ll like it! let me know your thoughts on this please <3

nagivation | series masterlist | masterlist

“You have to join us later,” my dormmate said with an exasperated tone. “Have you never been to clubs before?”

“You do know that I was in an all-girls catholic school, MJ.”

“Well, do you want to be… a little reckless than that?”

If she knew what happened, if she knew my sexual affair with my priestess, then she would know how reckless and giving I was, even now.

“What if I get drugged?” I asked with a small voice, not turning my head away from my homework.

“You won’t,” she responded with a stare. “You can’t be moping around in this room. Look, I’ll even treat you out. You don’t have to spend on anything.”

“Is that what you really want?”

She nods; do I even have a choice?

Finally, after a long minute, I agreed with a nod, and turned my head to give her a small smile. I could sense how joyful she was, with her little turn and the tight smile across her lips whenever she gets excited. She says, “Okay, good. Get ready now, we’re going to leave in thirty minutes.”

As soon as she left, I removed my books from the table, grabbing the old journal that I kept with me for the longest time. I have my old fantasies and dreams about Natasha, all the experiences and the scenes that we’ve played; I could never forget them, I’ll hold onto them for my dear life. It’s been a year since the last time I saw her, the last time she held me before the chaos happened. And when I heard the news of her leaving the school, I was devastated. I never had her number, never had the information that I needed–except her house that is now sold out–and I continued to wait for the longest time.

But she never came back, she was a traitor.

I did my best to not think about the priestess by distracting myself with school, drowning in my studies until I could feel my whole body numb. But each time I spaced out; my mind would be swarming with her, especially her hands that are vile to my skin. Forget, forget, forget, I thought to myself. It’s been a year, she’s happier without you, she doesn’t need you. And I keep that mantra on repeat whenever I’d think about her–and it still doesn’t work. And when I had a one-night stand with a girl my age, I knew it was different from the way I experienced it with Natasha. She was fucking me, Natasha was making love to me. There was a difference, a huge one.

You’re my perfect saint, Natasha says as she bites down my lower lip. I will never forget you, I’ll never depart from you, little girl.

As much as that feels good when I think about it, I try my hardest to forget about it. Did I want her to search for me? Yes. Each day passes, and I always imagine a scenario where she has her pick-up truck by the building, with her gloomy hooded eyes that stared at me until she was bored. I felt like an unopened flower when it came to her, and I would rise when she finally did open me up. Clearly, there was something wrong with me. How can I love someone deeply when they don’t feel the same way anymore? Perhaps she has forgotten about me, moved on with her life, and thrown away the memories that we created. No matter how much it hurts, I had to do the same.

Coming out of my room, I see MJ’s boyfriend, Peter, sitting down at the edge of the couch that we bought from an old furniture house. God, he looked like an innocent human being, just like me once. I bet if he met Natasha or any man that would take him, he’d realize how much we were alike. He looks up at me and smiles kindly, and then I realize how much I’m also attracted to men.

“Hey, Y/N! I’ve come to pick MJ up, she said you’re also joining us for tonight.”

Is he rebellious as well?

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, leaning against the doorway of my room. “I can’t do anything about it, she’s getting on my nerves.” I was merely joking, I hope he laughs.

He chuckles, perfect. “MJ’s like that, that’s why I love her in the first place. She’ll really get you out there and realize that there’s so much more other than studying.”

“Don’t you work for Stark?”

“Part-time only,” he responded. I never thought Parker himself could ever work for a Stark, I find the man too snarky and sexist. That’s just my opinion, I wouldn’t be surprised if he supports him.

We talked about his interests for a while until MJ comes out of the room with a straw cap on her head, high-waisted shorts that shows off her legs pretty well, and decent lip-gloss on her mouth. If I was given the chance to compliment her and say how attractive she was, I’d do it. But her boyfriend was gazing at her, so I never said anything. I quickly slipped on my sandals and walked with them to the bar until I had forgotten about Natasha completely.

“You should try this drink,” MJ slurs, giving me a shot of vodka with a loud chuckle erupting from her throat. “Come on! Drink it up, sissy. Let’s see how strong your intolerance is.”

I wanted to shake my head a no but I had no choice, maybe I do need some fun in my life. It wouldn’t hurt, right? So I give her a small glance and dunk the vodka in my throat, wincing slightly from the bitter taste that is expanding inside my throat hurtfully. I let out a tiny gasp and gave her a chuckle, it did taste good.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked curiously, you could see how drunk he was from three shots of tequila.

“M’pretty good.”

“My, I think you’re a lightweight,” MJ humors and pats my back hard, making my throat let out a rough cough. I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. I was going to stand up until my legs were starting to feel wobbly, which made my friend giggle. “Easy there, pretty. Why don’t you just sit down? I’ll go get you more drinks.”

Natasha only gets to call me pretty, no one else.

I drank three more shots of vodka so that it could get into my system, to make me forget a woman that gave me nothing but despair. Fuck her, I think loudly in my head. It’s like I could feel her pick-up truck running me over until I was bleeding all over the road, numerous people watching with their horrific eyes. I wanted everyone to feel bad about me, to come to my funeral and say: this woman did nothing but her this child because it’s true, it’s true enough that she has hurt me. And while I’m drunk, I do realize how fucked up she was. Or maybe we were both fucked up.

Just keep drinking, forget about her, God damn it.

Tell me you love me, Natasha says desperately. You want me, don’t you? You love me, I know you love me.

Leave my head, Natasha.

An hour later, I was drunk as a skunk. I looked around me and I realized how my vision had become blurrier with each second, I needed to get back home, but MJ’s arm was around my shoulder and I could barely let myself stand up, I was so tired. One of her friends, a couple actually, was staring at my cleavage that has been popping out of my blueish tank top. I wanted to cover them, I felt uncomfortable, but I was too dozen off to do so. I asked myself to go to the bathroom and MJ did let me go, finally. While I tried walking to the restroom, I saw a familiar face at the counter. I turned slowly, and I could’ve sworn my eyes were playing tricks when suddenly Natasha was sitting with a glass of whiskey in her hand, looking tired as I was. I felt my world halting, as well as my heart. She still has that effect on me, after so long, she still gives me that warmth and panic that I always get whenever I see her.

Approach her, tell her that you missed her, hug her, kiss her.

My legs couldn’t move, I barely took off my eyes at her, and I wanted to hug her until my head was nuzzling against her neck. Don’t look at me, I begged. Please don’t take a glance, I won’t able to hold myself together.

After a minute of staring, I walked out of the scene and went to the restroom instead, a pan of regret maneuvering my veins. I should’ve turned back and greeted her with a hello, just a simple hello. Or maybe a question of: where have you been all this time? I thought you were in jail. But I could never bring myself to say such things like that, I could never disrespect her. Why? Why can’t I tell those things to you? Why did you not come back for me? You’re a traitor, a coward. After everything I’ve given you, all you have to do is leave. Coward, traitor.

When I walked back out, Natasha was no longer there. Instead, when I turned around, she was behind me with a hooded look on her face. She’s probably more wasted than I was despite how many glasses she could possibly take. She takes a deep breath and clenches her throat, whispering: “You’re here.”

“I am.”

Speak up.

It’s like she couldn’t believe that I was in front of her eyes after twelve months of not seeing each other, of not contacting one another, and there was this sense inside of her that she wanted to bring me inside of her car and make love to me. But instead, she held that thought and brought her hand to mine–holding them together, twinning our fingers until I felt like passing out.

“I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you,” I repeated her words, almost in tears when she was this close to me again. If she only knew how badly enough I wanted her lips on mine, then I might as well die of thirst. I turned around to see MJ having a great time with her friends, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Natasha still had her gaze on me and decided to come outside, probably to talk. The thing is, did I want to talk? Yes, somehow. Would I want her to fuck it away? Sure. But before I could let out a word, her hand was wrapped on my wrist and pulled me out of the bar within a few seconds.

I didn’t care if MJ would find me, I didn’t care if they send a police search for me, right now–she’s holding me, and I would be in her spell until dawn.

We were alone in a car in the middle of the night, I didn’t know where she took me, but the road seemed pretty lonely just like how I used to feel hours before I saw Natasha again. There were trees around us, a lot more than I could think of, and I turned my head to see her hands gripping her steering wheel hard; you could see her knuckles turning white because of it.

“Why did you take me here?” I asked quietly, almost in a timid voice. She shakes her head slowly, asking herself the same question.

“I don’t know.”

“Are we not going to talk about–”

“I do,” she interrupts me, and I hear her sniffling. Was she crying? “I just… I do admit I have been a pussy for the past year.”

Damn right, you were. You left me without even saying a word, I thought you were dead.

“I thought you were dead,” I said, repeating that word inside of my head. “I thought that–you were in jail or something, I don’t know. You left me waiting.”

Perhaps there was something inside of me that wanted to slap her across the face, choke her with my tiny hands, and cry in agony about why she left me with the window open. The crease of her lips made me want to lick them, to remind her how good we used to be. But I was so angry, so angry that I barely could look at her in the eyes. Could you blame me? Of course, you can’t. You would do the same thing if I left you, Natasha.

“We would be in danger if I came back to you, Y/N.”

“But you’re smarter than me,” I say with a whine, furrowing my eyebrows. I always felt like she was, in fact, smarter than me, tougher than me, and more intelligent than me. I wanted to bring that word up to let her know how she made me feel so stupid for waiting, to pray to God if there was any sign of her. I was foolish, she was not. “You would’ve found a way to come back to me, to rescue me.”

“I wouldn’t ruin your hopes and dreams.”

“But you were my dream,” I tell her off, almost in a raised voice. She turns her head to me slowly and gives me this stare that screams: don’t-you-dare-talk-to-me-like-that. But she had no choice because either way–I was upset. “You said you would never leave me…”

“And I’m here, aren’t I honey?”

“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, staring back down at my hands that were on my lap; I feel my palms sweating with how aggravating I was feeling. “I’m not your honey or your little girl anymore, Natasha.”

“You have to understand that I couldn’t come to you that quick,” she reasoned slowly, dragging her words as if I don’t understand what she was trying to tell me when I clearly did. “If they see me with you, they will put me in jail. Do you want that to happen, Y/N? If I did go to jail, our hopes would be washed away as if nothing happened. I had to come back to you, just not at that time.”

Still, she was a coward for not showing up. Knowing how brilliant and naughty she can be, she would’ve made time to see me without anyone knowing. She knew very well where I lived, where I sleep, why hasn’t she come up and kissed my feet? Coward, traitor, pussy.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered in mock of shame.

She shakes her head and tucks a strand of my hair behind my hair, I forgot how good it feels to have her radiate all over me.

“It’s never your fault, I should’ve come back for you. I know I was capable enough to come back.”

And when she finally admits it, my stomach churns into knots as my head swirls with fuzziness; it’s all because of her, that priestess, Natasha Romanoff.

“We’re both sick, aren’t we?” I asked.

She chuckles and kisses my knuckles, bringing it to her nose as she smells me like how she would smell my insides. “Yeah, but I’m sicker than you are.”

“Would you show me how sick you are?”

Touch me right now, you fool. Fuck me hard, harder than I could ever imagine. I could hear you say: would you come for me, little girl? For Mommy? And I’d fall apart instantly, you know I would. And when you lean so close to me all I want to do is to smell your collar or your mouth that has the scent of your cigarettes. I’m utterly in love with you, obsessed with you, compelled to you, Natasha.

“Would you like to see how fucking cruel I can be?” yes, more than I can bear.

I lean close to her face and swipe the tip of my tongue on her upper lip, teasing her so that something inside of her would pop out. And when our hooded eyes connected, all I wanted for her to do was to pull me in and kiss me until I’m molded to her. She held my right cheek and watched intently as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed her lips together with mine. I love the simplicity of our kiss, the way her lips would twitch when I would try to deepen my mouth but she was still very much in control. It’s like with each kiss we make, we spoke in so many languages that I wouldn’t even know of. It felt foreign and surreal, but I’ve missed the feeling of it.

“Let me touch you,” her hands were now under my shirt, softly touching my stomach with a smirk on her lips–still kissing me hard. “Let me show you how cruel and unsettling I can be, little lamb.”

Was this an actual sinner in front of me? Rattling herself at me? How can someone be such an angel and when in the dark, they can be a different person? There was no denying how this turned me on–more than much–and all I could feel was the wetness between my legs and my stomach flexing because of her touch. She kisses me with my mouth opening, I felt her tongue dipping inside of my warm hole.

“Touch me,” I preached, bringing her hands further to my bra until I felt her squeezing my right breast–I had my hips arched because of it. “P-Please, I need you.”

“I know,” she says, as a matter of fact. Natasha kisses my chin, then to my open chest where her hand still kneads my breast like a soft dough. “You better stay quiet once I’m inside of you, pretty girl. But if you scream, that’s okay. Because no one would hear you either way.”

I watched her pull up my shirt, as well as my white bra, and moaned quietly when her mouth latches on my left nipple; swirling her tongue around the bed furiously, flicking it with so much force. My chest was heaving from her undying innuendo, and I could feel myself coming close because of it. Once I was topless in front of her, she took her time to remove her jacket and a black tee as well until I’ve finally seen her naked, after so long of not being with each other. I wanted to appreciate what she looked like, how she was still rather beautiful in my eyes when her mouth came back to my lips and I was baffled. She wraps her callused hand on my throat and pins me on the headrest with a growl, then slips her inside of my shorts–feeling my crotch.

“You want to see how evil I am?” she teases, licking her lips, and I could see red in her eyes; it turned me on, it made me wetter. I nodded. “I’m sicker than you, little girl. I’ve had these thoughts ever since you came to the school, ever since you’ve knelt down in front of me, I have pictures of you in my home and I would kiss it, I would touch myself with them. Don’t you know how fucking cruel that is? Hm? Does that turn you on?”

“Yes!” I mewled, grinding my clit against her fingers that were slithering through my folds, she looked at me with those eyes that I’d recognized, and I could’ve sworn I saw Satan within just a second.

“I want to get you pregnant,” she whispers to my ear while slipping a finger inside of me, chuckling to herself when I was clenching hard around her finger. “My god, you’re still this tight. No one has fucked you ever since I’ve been gone, baby?”

“No one,” I shake my head frantically, I needed more than just a finger. “J-Just you, I only need you, Mother.”

“I’ve missed you calling me that,” her lips were now on mine as she gives two hard thrusts that made me squeal out of pain and pleasure. She had long fingers. Her mouth was now in the corner of my mouth, but her eyes never left mine. She smirks, “You think you can be a good slut and cum around my fingers? Maybe once I slip my dick inside of you, I might fill you up with my cum.”

The word cum turns me on crazily, especially when I imagine her strap-on thrusting inside of me with her wild self, her head buried to my neck, as she cums hard inside of me with her hips twitching. I could hear her say: there, now you’re fully mine. I can’t wait until you’re carrying my babies, little girl and with that thought, I was clinging to her with all my strength. She could notice it by now despite how desperate and noisy I was from her thrusting, I didn’t even notice that she slipped another finger and I wish it was her dick instead.

She lets out a grunt, “You like it when I’m choking you, baby?”

I nodded, letting out a small: “Uh-huh, I do.”

“Yeah?” she taunts, curling her fingers to hit my spot hard. She kisses my lips desperately, as if not wanting to let go, and whispered, “How about when I hurt you, hm? You like it when I slap your face?”

I nodded again; and she gave me a wide smirk before I felt her palm smacking across my face, bursting more of my juices inside of my vagina that coated her fingers warmly. She loves the feeling of it, the way she hears squelching sounds coming from my pussy until she has this fantasy of making it bleed. It is impossible now, though. She has already ruined me. She continues to grip my neck hard and thrusts inside of me widely, with louder grunts filling the car.

She smacks my right cheek again before mumbling out with a hoarse voice, “If I could fucking drag your head to my house, I would. I’d fucking hurt you until I’m bored, maybe even touch you without your consent so that I could come. You do like it when I’m like this when I’m mean and cruel… right?”

“O-oh god,” I heaved, sobbing when the sting from her slap is still radiating on my cheek. As much as that hurt, I was so aroused by it. “Yes, I do love it–please fuck me harder, Mother. I’m a good little lamb for you, I’m so good to you!”

Natasha lets out insistent moans and curls her fingers harder to my walls while having her other hand clawing my throat. She whispered the dirtiest names to my ear, especially how much she wanted to hurt me, which never occurred in an alarming sense–it was never alarming anyway. Perhaps I was just in love with her, especially when we met again and I’m giving myself to her that easily. Am I that kind of a slut?

“So good,” she murmurs with a deep tone in her voice, her eyes fluttering close when I was producing more wetness around her fingers. “You fucking feel so warm around me, little girl…”

“Mommy–” I choked out a sob. “I love you so much, fuck your baby–please fuck your baby.”

“I’m going to enjoy you since you’re no longer with your parents,” she whispers with her teeth pearling; I could feel myself getting close. She was animalistic with me, her thrusts were too rapid, especially when she hit that spot. “You’re my good little girl, right? Then cum for me, cum for your Mother. Maybe say a little prayer while I hurt you, hm? Come on, do it for Mommy, sweetheart.”

I muttered out a whole sentence of prayer when all of a sudden I was at my climax. I arched my whole back, shutting my eyes tight, as I twitched while her fingers were still prodding inside of me–her eyes never leaving once more. With her free hand, she pushes the hair away from my face and kisses me hard, moaning when I couldn’t stop being so tight around her fingers. I mumbled, “Mommy, I love you.” I could see her smirking, kissing me for the last time, and responding with a moan.

“I love you too, my little lamb. More so than you know.”

A few hours later, she drove me back home in silence. We didn’t talk much, maybe because I was so speechless from the sudden sex incident that I couldn’t process it in my head. I wanted her to touch my hand, to let me know that she still wanted me, but nothing came out of her sinful mouth. Has she regretted this? Will she leave me again?

“Please don’t think I’m never going to see you again.” I’m glad you brought that up.

I nodded, turning to face her as I gave her an innocent smile, acting as if nothing happened an hour ago.

“Are we back?”

She shuts off her engine and sighs deeply, looking back at me with a curling lip on her face. Then, I felt her knuckles touching my soft cheek, and I died that night. Natasha leans feverishly close, so close that she might lick my lips, and whispered: “Of course, we are. Maybe not in secret anymore.”

This gave me excitement for some reason, it’s like there was nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to her.

“Really?” I asked, flabbergasted.

Natasha only smiles and pecks my lips, then my cheeks, and lastly to my forehead. “We just have to be careful when we are in public, I look enough to be your mother.”

“But you are my Mother.”

“Yes,” she agrees, chuckling to herself as she kisses me hard on the lips; I let her, of course. “You’re my child, my little girl. Now go off, okay? I’ll come to see you again, I promise.”

I hope you will, you fool. Because if you don’t, I might have to kill myself for you to find out that I’m dead, that would make you run to my apartment just to see my lifeless body. I felt intrusive and bold too, as if this relationship was such a healthy one–when clearly, it’s wrong in so many ways. Did I care? Hardly, as long as I’m with her, nothing bad happens.

taglist: @olicity boo@nickalpatel@sayah13@inluvwithfictionalwomen@daddynatasha@natnutkuy@mrs-johansson@ageofolsen@easybxy@natasharomanoffswifeyyy@ayyy-lety@wandsgurl@rt–link @pancakefan7529 @korekiyoss @natash7456574657646645 @riveravalonsage@queen234 @gracied710 @aru-son@katherineromanova @agent99galanzo @dumbdoll-420@meshuganna@jessromanoff5@kimromanov@cl-e@profoundpersonacoffee@wandaslittlewhore@natashaswife4125@setsuna1415 @encyrpted @d14n4ol @natashaswife4125

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark natasha #black widow x reader #black widow x you #say your prayers series

353 notes · View notes