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carpkoinobori · 4 months ago

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[†] thursday girl — giselle x reader

[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

summary: you debut in SM’s newest girl group. The industry isn’t what you thought it’d be. It’ll be fine, right? or , more accurately: a girl’s guide to breaking all ten commandments.

pairing: giselle x aespa member!reader

to be honest the dynamic is more like the apple x the snake x eve

tags: angst, happy and open ending, literally just angst though, reader is raised catholic

wc: 7.3k

cw: dieting, eating disorders, religious trauma, catholic guilt, homophobia, internalized homophobia, comphet, mild implied sexual content, creepy variety show hosts and fans mentioned, the mortifying ordeal of being a girl

ex: not beta read, reader is third oldest/youngest - middle of five. reader’s stage name is Eve.

a/n: leaving this warning here. I was raised catholic. if you find negative mentions of organized religion upsetting, this one isn’t for you. NOT BETA READ ONCE AGAIN

psalm 32:1-5 Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him, and in whose spirit is no deceit. When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord’— and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

——————————————————————————————————— debut.

that’s what you’ve been working towards your entire life, what you hungered for, what you wanted.

since your early teen years, you’ve dreamed of debuting. You loved to perform, to sing, to dance— that’s why you were in your church’s choir group. The advent show, the way of the cross, everything— you were there.

did your parents approve of you being an idol? Absolutely not. They tried to convince you to settle down with one of the nice churchboys, the son of one of their friends. He was.. nice, okay looking. But you just didn’t like him. You dreamt of falling in love, being swept off your feet into happily ever after— but for most of your life, you had never even had a real crush! You must just not have found the right guy yet. It only counted when it was with a boy.

you auditioned for SM, and miraculously, you got in. Your days were spent training, dancing, weighing, singing, dancing, showcasing, singing, training, dancing, weighing— a cycle, really.

you met Yu Jimin and Kim Minjeong pretty early on, and you got along great with Jimin. She was catholic, and so were you! She wasn’t as dedicated as you, of course, but it was nice to have something in common.

you all didn’t get the chance to talk with Ning Yizhou a whole lot, even if she did share a dorm with minjeong. You dormed with jimin, but there was an empty bed.

that bed would be filled by one Aeri Uchinaga.

and from that day, your life would also be filled by aeri uchinaga.

The five of you were called to a meeting. You were a little worried, of course, clutching your silver cross chain and pressing the tip of it into your chest. A nervous habit.

“Hello girls,” the man began, the five of you sitting and fidgeting nervously.

“I have good news for you all. You five will be debuting as SM’s newest girl group, Aespa. Congratulations,” he smiled, and it felt like your world had just crumbled and rebuilt itself, three times over.

“We’ll begin thinking of your stage names soon, so feel free to give us some ideas. We’ll be waiting,” the man continued, and like that, the meeting ended.

you all had to celebrate, right?

The five of you met in your dorm, as minjeong didn’t want to bother the other trainee living there. You all begin thinking of stage names, and your eyes drifted to the figurine of Mary that sat on your nightstand. Jimin was thinking of using Katarina, her baptismal name, anyway! Your confirmation name could also work, but you weren’t sure.

“What if I used Mary?” You thought out loud, the other four girls turning their heads to glance at you, and the figure just behind you.

“Mary?” Jimin began. “Like, the Virgin Mary? Our Lady of Naju?” She questioned.

“Yes, I quite like the idea, don’t you?” The other girls knew you spoke a little formally, never really speaking in slang or impolitely in the slightest. It was your parents, after all. You had grown up in a secluded, small town in America, but your parents had taught you Korean, along with your own interest, reading books to perfect grammar. Sadly, that didn’t really teach you many informal words— not that your parents would allow that. You had to be a lady, of course.

“It seems a bit.. outdated, doesn’t it?” Aeri voiced, tentatively, and the other girls agreed with her. They began giving suggestions.

“What about Lily?” Jimin offered.

“Eden— no, maybe Eve?” minjeong hummed.

“Lilith!” Ning exclaimed, much to the amusement of the other girls.

“Ning, that’s similar to Lily, though, isn’t it?” Minjeong gave an amused half-smile.

“I guess so,” she sighed.

“I like Eve,” Aeri voiced, and the other girls all mostly agreed, although more name suggestions were given out, for everyone.

You debuted with the names Karina, Giselle, Eve, Winter, and Ningning.

you said a prayer every morning and every night, with the rosary that was around the figurine. A small Our Father, a Hail Mary, an Act of Contrition— no matter what, you never missed your morning and nightly prayers, no matter how small. You attended mass on Sunday, and while you usually couldn’t go in person, you’d try to listen to it in the morning, before it was time for practice, or at night, before bed— it didn’t matter how much sleep you gave up for it.

You were moved into a group dorms a bit after debut, Black Mamba being a sensational hit. You dormed with aeri, while ning and minjeong dormed together, karina having pulled the leader and oldest card to secure the single-room.

You and aeri weren’t exactly close. There was no animosity, of course, you two just never really got the chance to talk. It was definitely by chance. Not because she made your heart beat just a little faster, your steps a little more uncoordinated, your words fail. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all.

you just admired the other girl. It didn’t help that you two had more than one language in common— aeri had gone to an international school, you were raised in america. You just hadn't gotten the chance to approach her, that was all.

well, the first night before the debut stage, you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned, finally sitting up, when—

“Can’t sleep?” aeri’s voice was low with sleep, and she was speaking in english. You felt an uncomfortable skip in your heart.

“Oh, yes, I’m just a bit restless,” you laughed, definitely not nervously. “I am, too. Just a little,” she replied, making a pinching gesture with her fingers, and a smile.

“Why?” You asked, even if it was kind of a dumb question.

aeri was silent, for a beat. At one point, you started to wonder if she was even going to respond.

“I’m just kind of.. scared,” she admitted. “We’re gonna be on display to the whole world, and who knows what’ll happen?” She chuckled, throwing her arms up just a bit. “I’m just.. worried. And.. I mean obviously, I miss home,” she added.

you looked at her, slightly, turning your head just to glance at the dark haired girl. “I know,” you murmured. “I miss home too, even if it wasn’t.. the most exciting place. I just miss it,” you continued. You were just a little afraid you were speaking too quickly in english, but aeri seemed fine. “I mean, I understand. I miss my parents,” she agreed.

you wished you could say the same. It’s not that you didn’t love your parents, but they were a little.. much. They didn’t like the fact you hadn’t found a guy yet. They’d ask you if you.. liked girls. You denied it, you didn’t! You were steadfast in your faith, dedicated, you didn’t like girls. You couldn’t.

“I miss my friends, you know. Sometimes I worry I’ll forget english,” you admitted.

“Well,” aeri gave a grin. “I’ll talk to you in english all you want if you promise to talk to me in japanese,”

you didn’t even speak japanese, but for her? you’d learn.

You smiled. “Of course,”

the two of you tried your best to sleep, after that, but it was mostly you two continuing to talk about anything and everything.

You could tell aeri was going to be one of your best friends. A reminder of home, if anything.

the debut showcase went great, the song was a hit, everything was good.

you and aeri spoke before going to sleep every night— you’d even bought a book about japanese grammar, how to read, write and speak it. You tried your best, but aeri had a nice time correcting you. It was.. nice. You always loved to learn languages, and for some reason, having someone who spoke it already help you was.. a bit comforting, in a way.

you still prayed every night, and aeri would sometimes give you a look, but she never said anything.

everything was going great.

until the hate began

Every little thing you or your group did was criticized, nitpicked, blown out of proportion— and the stress was getting to you.

you had never handled stress very well. You didn’t have a reason to. There was really nothing for you to ever stress about— other than following god, of course, but that wasn’t stressful to you. You had no reason to be stressed about something like that! You were a good person, you hadn’t ever wanted to sin.

some of the comments were about your appearance. It started to chip away at you. The company was always happy when you lost weight, so why not just a little more? It’s not like it would kill you. you were three months into an eating disorder that you called a diet.

the second you got up, you’d pray as your sustenance, head to practice, do your schedules— the other girls would order lunch, you’d ask for a salad. No dressing, of course, you didn’t like the taste. then, as you’d all get to the dorm, again, if there was even an hour of free time, you’d head to the company gym. Sometimes, when you were just in a waiting room, or you couldn’t work out— you’d pace. Anything to keep moving, you just couldn’t sit still. It was taking over your mind.

you couldn’t even eat normally. Any food given to you on a variety show, any drink, anything— mentally, you were counting. You liked to be in the negatives, you liked to skip meals, anything to be better. This was for yourself, so people couldn’t comment on you. You started to come up with even more elaborate ways to prove you were okay, to be better, you practiced more, you stayed late, you slept in the practice room, at times. You begged the vocal coaches to tell you whether or not you were actually good, and as much as they said you were, you just couldn’t believe them.

it was starting to destroy you.

“y/n?” Aeri called, as you prayed right before bed. She stood by the open room door, looking at you with a concerned expression. Why would she be concerned?

“Yes?” You answered, setting down the rosary, putting it back around the statue of Mary that watched over you so carefully. Sometimes, you wondered if you’d made her proud. Maybe if you said the suffering was in the name of god, he’d forgive you. He’d forgive you for the things you had thought and done and wanted to do. He’d forgive you. You could punish yourself, already. You could pray for him to fix you quickly, maybe you could give up eating for lent entirely—

“You.. haven’t been sleeping here, lately. We haven’t gotten.. to talk,” aeri began, sitting down next to you, looking down at you from where she had sat on your bed, right next to where you knelt.

you had completely forgotten your promise. It had just slipped your mind, you never really were awake enough for it, lately, and—

“Are you okay? You’re kind of.. pale, and you have dark circles, and-“

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled, quickly. “It’s just.. lent,” you lied, quickly. “All catholics fast and give something up for lent, don’t worry,” you assured, waving a hand dismissively. While it was true, it didn’t call for someone to starve themselves. You were lying. That’s a sin. But it’s just a white lie, so they won’t worry, right? It’s okay, you told yourself.

“We’re worried about you,” aeri frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder, the weight making you go from a kneeling position to sitting with your legs crossed. “I’m worried about you,”

god damn aeri, and her kind personality, and her need to care for others, and she was just so good- she was such a good person, and here you were, about to ruin her, damn her to hell. You were a horrible, filthy, disgusting person. For some reason, your eyes grew hot, but you couldn’t cry. You simply stared at her, with wide eyes, like seeing god’s light, it blinded you. You wished she didn’t care about you. You wouldn’t blame her. Vaguely, you remembered the first commandment.

the first commandment. Exodus 20:1 I am the Lord your God. You shall not have other gods beside me. You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down before them or serve them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God

“Aeri, I-” your voice cracked, and you were so determined not to cry, but you could feel your resolve breaking, because you were weak, you were weak to your vices and weak to aeri, you were so pathetic. The older girl let out a small sigh, sinking down onto the floor next to you, taking you into her arms. She was silent, for a bit, while you choked out words that were mostly incomprehensible. She ran a hand through your hair, and was a bit unsettled to feel how cold you were to the touch, but she pointedly ignored it.

“Y/n, you can’t let the words of those people get to you.. they won’t do you any good, and.. I know that’s hypocritical of me, I’m learning to ignore it too, but.. you can’t let it kill you like this,” she continued, voice soft. It made you sick how much you liked her comforting you. What would she do if she knew that you were so disgusting. You wanted aeri, you realized as you held her shirt, with some sense of finality hitting you. You didn’t want her to leave. You wanted her to hold you, and she wasn’t even aware of what you felt towards her. You were taking advantage of her. You were so disgusting.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice a little choked as you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to cry. “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay,” she said, a little confused on why you were apologizing, look of worry on her face. Not that you could see it. You had your head in the crook of her neck.

that’s why you were apologizing, really.

you were sorry that you loved her. You were sorry she wanted to help you. You she couldn’t fix you, no one could. you were defective, and wrong, and oh so selfish. Aeri was such a good person.

the presence of the statue on your nightstand caught your eye from the corner. You turned away. She shouldn’t have to see this.

you could feel the tears stinging at your eyes, the shame, the guilt, the hate— it was all too much. You needed to push aeri away, to get as far away from her as possible, to save what little integrity and goodness you had left—

but you didn’t.

you clutched her shirt tighter, breathed her in desperately, and let out a choked sound. You wanted to cry, but you screwed your eyes shut and bit your lip. The blood was heavy and sharp in your mouth.

You woke up the next day beyond exhausted, but in your bed and off the floor. You surmised that aeri had put you there. You held your head, and got down on your knees in front of your bed. You prayed.

“Mary, mother of God, please guide me away from sin, as you have for so many others. Help me to continue being steadfast in my faith, and to follow all commandments well. Allow me to be worthy of your son, and continue to protect me from sin. These thoughts have been given to me by the devil, as a challenge of my faith. Guide me out of temptation, and forgive my actions, in the Lord’s name, I ask for this mercy,”

you stood up. Your knees ached. Aeri was up, sitting cross legged on her bed, watching you with a concerned expression. “Why are you praying to Mary?” aeri asked, voice light but expression still a bit worried, if not a tad curious.

“Catholics pray to saints as well. Especially depending on their patronage— I mean, if I lose something, I usually pray to Saint Anthony,” you chuckled, explaining the concept.

“What’s Mary the patron Saint of?” aeri asked, softly, curiously.

“Many different things, depending on which version of her you choose to pray to. Our Lady of Lourdes is Mary, but when she appeared in Lourdes. She’s the patron saint of the sick. There’s Our Lady of Loreto, the patron Saint of pilots,”

“Which one do you have, then?”

“Our Lady of Sorrows,” you murmured, glancing towards the figure on your nightstand. The rosary was draped around her carefully. Her downcast, frowning face, her hands clasped together, the feeling of her porcelain eyes boring into your back nearly burned.

“What’s she the patron Saint of?”

“Sinners,”

the second commandment. Exodus 20:1-7 You shall not invoke the name of the Lord, your God, in vain. For the Lord will not leave unpunished anyone who invokes his name in vain.

practice that day went on for a long while. You were all practicing for next level. At one point, you took a small break, drinking water— your heart had been beating quite fast, that day, and your throat had been dry the entire practice.

during the beat change, it was nearly impossible for you to keep your eyes off aeri- or should you start calling her giselle, now? maybe it would be best to separate the two.

you shouldn’t be looking at aeri like that— but giselle was an idol. giselle was not your friend— she was someone untouchable, unattainable. It was okay to like her, to find her pretty, to want- no, no. You didn’t. You just envied her appearance, was all.

Your eyes were glued to her, the way she moved, her expression, everything, it was-

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, eyes locked onto her movements, before you heard the instructor call for you to get up and were immediately snapped out of your haze. You didn’t even remember the event before you went to sleep.

the third commandment. Exodus 20:1-11 Remember the sabbath day—keep it holy. Six days you may labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God. You shall not do any work. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the Lord has blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.

It was Sunday. It was always a toss-up whether or not you’d have a schedule that day, and today you did not. You watched the six a.m. mass, while aeri slept a few feet away. You knelt when they knelt, stood when they stood, prayed when they prayed.

but you did not sing, no. That would wake aeri.

the girls usually used their rest days to sleep. You always woke up early. You were restless. You hated to sleep. In your dreams you’d see images of a life you could never live, of things you shouldn’t— couldn’t— do. You’d see aeri. No, not aeri— giselle. Aeri didn’t look your way on the stage, hold your gaze for a moment too long, send a wink. The company didn’t order aeri to hold you closer, smile at you more, intertwine your hands.

aeri would never look at you that way.

but giselle would.

you went to the practice room after you prayed. You rehearsed until you felt the world spin, your skin too hot- until you forgot about aeri, and giselle, and the figurine on your nightstand, and the pastor’s homilies, and the way your parents would never love you the same because of what you had done. You danced until your vision became blurry, so you couldn’t see your hands, so whatever or whoever you touched wasn’t your fault, so you couldn’t see their face. More likely, so you couldn’t see yourself, and the body you lived in. You danced until your ears rang, so you wouldn’t have to listen to the sounds, to how your members pleaded with you to stop doing this to yourself. Till you couldn’t hear the people telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear yourself telling you it wasn’t enough.

till you couldn’t hear your parents words resounding in your head, the endless comments of it being unnatural, of being sent straight to the hellfire, to how it was the most hideous thing in the world.

till you didn’t hear the way fans leered after you, and your members— the stares they’d give you, as you walked, the way they’d clamber for you, so many hands reaching, reaching for you, to touch, to take. it ate you up inside, how badly you wanted to be pure. and how you knew, through it all, you never could be. they could imagine you any way, salivate, draw, take, write it in comments. They even had the confidence to say it out loud, passing comments on variety shows.

you danced till you could forget their words, their looks, what you knew so well that they thought, you danced till you thought your body would give out—

or, conversely, till the leader and main vocalist of red velvet opened the practice room door and rushed over to the the shaking body of their junior, nearly unable to breath, head in her hands and knees to her chest in the farthest corner of the room, brightly illuminated.

you wanted to assure them you were fine, but the cross chain you wore was too tight on your neck, the silver feeling like hot iron burning your throat. You swore if you looked down it would be burning into your skin, leaving a brand.

each breath felt like swallowing glass, and your eyes were unfocused, and your ears were ringing, and your body was screaming in protest of each movement, and your eyesight was blurring—

but you got up, bowed, apologized, assured them you were okay, thanked them, and left.

you had been lying a lot, lately. To your members, about how you were— to your managers, your staff, to your seniors, now. Lying was a sin. but you could excuse it, couldn’t you?

you hoped they wouldn’t mention it to your members.

the fourth commandment. Exodus 20:1-12 Honor your father and your mother, that you may have a long life in the land the Lord your God is giving you.

you rarely talked to your parents. You should call them, more. Or, more accurately, you should pick up their calls, more. Except, it was maddening. You hated talking to them. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t, that they were your parents, and what they said was gospel, you couldn’t stand it. Their prying questions, asking how being an idol was, if you kept up with your faith, asking why the media would report on how “close” you were with your members— with Aeri. Asking why you had gotten so thin, and that you needed to gain weight. They would pick and pry at every little thing. You couldn’t stand it, you couldn’t-

the phone rang. Again. You picked up.

“Finally, you answer the phone, y/n,” the voice of your mother crackled, thousands of miles away.

“I’m sorry,” you respond, robotically, like a reflex. “I was in practice. We’re busy, since we’re preparing for a comeback,”

“You always have some excuse for us, don’t you? You can’t just talk to your parents? What a daughter, you are. We’re your parents, y/n, you should actually listen to us, more. I told you being an idol wouldn’t be good for you, and look at you now! Barely any respect for your parents, how horrible is that? I can’t believe you,” she ranted, going on and on about this and that and every failure and everything you should’ve done better.

“This is why I didn’t want you going away, I knew what it’d do to you.. we tried to fix you, but you are a sick, sick little girl,” she spat, accusingly. “You know what you did, you know what you did to this family— that I have to live with a daughter who’s-”

click.

You hung up.

her voice was so grating.

Your mother loved to spout silly little ideas, didn’t she? She was wrong. You didn’t do anything. You weren’t gay. You didn’t like girls, or a girl. They had just been confused. The reason you became an idol was because you loved to perform, not because it was your only way out— after they saw you with her. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kiss her. You didn’t, you’d never-

the truth was that you had left your hometown because of an incident. Yes, you loved to perform, and being an idol was always on your mind. But you never thought you’d do it, how could you leave?

You soon found out what it was like to live outcasted, alone, treated like something wrong and filthy and horrible. Your parents didn’t help. So, you did what anyone would do— you ran away, off to Korea, off to the harsh idol system

because anything

anything

would be better than living with the guilt and shame, with the knowing eyes and hateful stares. anything would be better than being stuck in that suffocating smalll town, where everyone knew everyone, and all your secrets were magnified.

she had moved away, anyway. Her parents protected her. you protected yourself. You had to run.

so you did.

you had to kill that part of yourself, bury her more than six feet deep, deep enough so that the world would never find her.

You died the day your parents opened your bedroom door and found you with the daughter of a deacon, who helped at the church, who your parents had invited over for dinner, who they had been invited by for dinner. When they found you with the daughter of their friends.

they didn’t know whether to say if she corrupted you or you corrupted her.

they chose the latter, of course, they got to it first. They drove them out of town, blaming that girl for your transgressions. For your sin.

she kissed you, after all.

you just sat there and took it.

it wasn’t your fault, they said to the town. It was hers. You’re just too trusting and naïve.

if only they knew, the rest of the people. Your parents certainly did.

they forbid you from having any friends that were girls over, again.

and you understood. You knew. And you took it.

You killed that part of yourself, that day. Buried her, and tried to forget. But there’s dirt and blood on your hands and you’re still hollow. There’s nothing left of you, from before. Bright smiles and eyes, a cheery demeanor, giggling in secret with her- there’s none of that left.

You’re not a little kid anymore, a teenager with a crush, no.

You grew up. You had to.

and that little girl is dead.

dead and buried, underground.

you wished Aeri knew you when you were younger.

she would’ve loved the softer you.

the fifth commandment. Exodus 20:1-13 You shall not kill.

You know, there’s a reason priests and nuns can’t get married.

it’s because, allegedly, they’re married to god.

so, in that case, is it wrong for you, married to god since birth, by your parents— that anything, anyone other than a boy, was wrong?

you tried to understand, but you couldn’t. What was the consensus?

you knew, deep down. What you were was wrong.

and yet, you couldn’t stop. You tried. But you were weak, at heart. A sinner, with no control.

that was your downfall, you thought.

or maybe salvation.

You and Aeri were the last two in the practice room— you were near obsessive with your need to perfect choreography, and Aeri asked you for help, so— you were here. You had already released Next Level, but the practicing never stopped, obviously. You had to perfect it, make it yours, make it the best— so that’s where you were, right now.

it was late, honestly. Already dark out, and your other three members had long since left. You regretted saying yes to Aeri— you knew the choreography for next level, obviously, you knew the way Giselle moved made you feel something wrong, something dark and wanting. You tried to push it down, though— you ran through the moves together, you fixed some posturing and some other small timing issues, really, it was nothing major. You watched her run through those parts, and clenched your jaw.

you felt hot, and your hands itched to reach out and touch her. You couldn’t be making this up, could you? She was looking at you through the mirror, your flushed face barely visible from the darker corner you were sitting at. You swore you could see a smirk on Giselle’s face, for a split second, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

you hated it, hated how Giselle made you feel out of control, made you feel wanting, made that dark thing in you, shoved deep down, squirm and claw. You felt sick. You wanted her.

“I’ll be back,” you said, abruptly standing up and turning the door of the practice room, practically scrambling out. “Bathroom,” was what you supplied as reasoning, before you got out the door, rushing through the empty halls. They were weirdly eerie, at night.

you walked into the bathroom, the sound of your shoes clicking on the ground far too loud, the yellowed glow of the SM building’s bathrooms surrounding you. You gripped the sink, turning on the water and splashing some on your face. You felt dirty, and wrong. Your skin crawled in the suffocating space, the sound of running water driving you insane, the sound of your breathing almost too much. It seems you were in there for longer than you thought, though, as you stated into the mirror, lost in thought, knuckles turning white with the bruising grip you kept on the sink counter.

“Y/n?” Aeri called, opening the door.

You snapped your head to her— she was wearing just some white tanktop and sweatpants, with a black sports bra, but god.

Giselle walked over to you, with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? You’re breathing pretty hard,” she asked, walking closer, putting a hand on your hip, other hand touching your arm.

your composure snapped. You moved your hands to her face, holding it in them, looking at her with wide eyes. “Giselle, I-”

“Why are you calling me Giselle? That’s my stage name, y/n, just call me Aeri?” she said, a little confused and a little irritated. Why the hell were you calling her by her stage name?

you held her face a little tighter, taking in a sharp breath, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Aeri,” you murmured, voice low. You leaned in, and her eyes widened, slightly. She didn’t push you away, in fact, she met you in the middle, holding you tighter, moving her other hand to your waist, squeezing your hip, where she could feel the outline of your hipbone. You hated how much you needed her, the kiss messy and desperate, filled with an underlying sense of want and need.

“G- Aeri,” you mumbled, out of breath, panting against her mouth. You couldn’t reconcile the two, easily. Giselle was the one who was making you do this, right? Not Aeri, you didn’t like Aeri, right?

no, that wasn’t true. You liked Aeri. A lot more than you’d admit. You wanted her. You needed her. You couldn’t stop, now.

“Aeri, please-” you murmured, between kisses. They were more desperate, now, wanting, as she pushed you against the cold bathroom wall, the light flickering once. Twice. Three times.

“Yeah? What do you want?” She asked, lowly, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as she looked down at you.

“Lock the door,” you muttered, grabbing her wrist, tightly, and moving her hand upwards.

the sixth commandment. Exodus 20:1-14 You shall not commit adultery.

you and aeri never spoke about it.

but it became a thing, now.

you needed her like a drug, constantly wanting and waiting for the next time you could have her.

you and giselle shared a room, after all. you were pretty sure everyone knew. and by everyone you meant your members, of course. the public could never know, they’d ruin both your career and hers, and you couldn’t do that to her. you weren’t evil, just weak. just horrible, but not evil. you could never hurt her. you loved her, didn’t you? the way a friend doesn’t hurt a friend.

deep down, you knew. It was so much worse than that.

they couldn’t know the way you put concealer on, before practice. the way you were strangely hot and cold, terrified of her touch, but how the both of you would disappear into your room, or somewhere, together, always appearing back, more than a few minutes later, though the tension was always still there.

the way you had become a shell.

you were ashamed, really.

you felt so disgusting, all the time. here you were, dirty, filthy, robbing someone else, sullying them, damning her, all for your own selfish needs, desires, wants.

you had always wanted, too much.

giselle was your temptation and aeri was the sin, the collateral to the damage.

it’s not like she protested, either, the way giselle’s hands lingered, a beat too longer to be friendly. the way her fists would clench on those stupid variety shows, when the hosts mentioned your appearance, saying you were so pretty.

she hated how they’d look at you.

but you couldn’t see that, really.

you hated yourself, and you had stolen aeri’s sanctity.

it was giselle’s fault, though, you would think, sometimes.

but deep down, you knew the truth.

it was your doing. Your fault. You ruined everything you touched, everything you wanted would die and burn because you were a sinner. All because you couldn’t control yourself.

eve ate the apple, too, you’d think. but maybe, the snake wasn’t just the creature, no, but the whispers of lilith, beckoning her away, promising her everything she’d wanted. forbidden knowledge, godhood, becoming better— and maybe, even herself.

was biting the apple an act of naivety, of greed?

or the blind, blissful ignorance of trust? of love?

someone you loved wouldn’t damn you, would they?

but oh, you knew better. You knew.

you had stolen both of your chances of sanctity and holiness.

out of blind, ignorant, nearly all encompassing love.

it was love.

the seventh commandment. Exodus 20:1-15 You shall not steal.

The weeks went by, in this strange commitment.

you had just arrived back from yet another variety show, and Giselle was obviously annoyed at something. It was late, and everyone wanted to sleep. You made your way back to your room, the door open a crack—

giselle was changing into some sleep clothes. You didn’t really care which. the glimpse of her back, of skin, made you nearly feel ill. You shut the door, quickly, feeling like you couldn’t breathe. It made you feel sick.

you entered about a minute later, to see her scrolling on her phone, with a bored expression. You, instead, went and knelt in front of the small Mary statue you kept.

“Mary, mother of God, please hear my prayer. I’m asking you to give me the strength to-”

your breath hitched as you felt giselle put her hands on your shoulders, leaning into your back, feeling her smirk press against your neck.

“y/n,” she called, a mischievous lilt to her voice like this was a fucking game.

“y-yes?” was the reply.

Her hands moved, pressing along your collarbone.

“You know, I hate variety shows, sometimes,” she hummed, voice so unbelievably distracting. “I don’t like the way they talk about you,” she continued.

“I- I agree, I do, it’s quite-”

her blunt nails dug into your shoulder, slightly, as she pulled you back, just a bit, your back pressed to her front. Her head craned forward, to murmur into your ear. “It pisses me off,” she added.

of course, you tended to her anger. You had to, as penance.

later, when you were laying beside her, panting with tears in your eyes, saying anything that came to mind—

“I love you,” you choked out, reverently, like a prayer.

god never responded to those, usually. aeri didn’t love you back.

there’s no way god loved you. and aeri didn’t, either.

the eighth commandment Exodus 20:1-16 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

“Tell me not to,” you begged, clutching onto giselle like a lifeline, holding her arms. “Tell me no, tell me not to love you. I can’t, I shouldn’t, I don’t want-”

girls never hungered. They never want, like a boy.

“And what if it’s what I want!” She spat back, acidly, pushing you off. “I love you, and I don’t know why you can’t accept that! I love you, not like a friend, or coworker, or whatever else you think! I’m in love with you, why can’t you get that!?” she asked, sharply, voice far too loud.

you didn’t know how to explain that you loved her, too, that you wished you could love her. You always wanted, so badly, to like a boy, and to love him, so you could hold his hand in public, and kiss him, and introduce him to your parents and they wouldn’t say a word, to be able to love him without just that fact being controversial, to love someone without it absolutely ruining your career. Idols couldn’t date, yes, but they’d survive if they were rumored to be with a man.

god forbid it was a girl.

you couldn’t ruin her career, or yours. You couldn’t damn her more, you couldn’t ruin everything, like you always did-

“I can’t,” you cried, desperately. “I’ll ruin everything, I’ll ruin you, I’d-”

“I don’t care!” she retorted. “I don’t care! I want you, and I love you. Is it that you can’t, or you won’t? You’re just scared,” she accused, rightly so.

“I am,” you admitted, pathetically. “I’m scared.”

She scoffed, clenching her fists. She turned, sharply, turning the door handle, wiping her eyes and slamming the room’s door.

You were alone.

god abandoned you, long ago.

you don’t know why it hurt more the second time.

the ninth commandment Exodus 20:1-17 You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

it was a few days later, at night after an off day. You had been hiding in your room most of the day. Cowardly, yes, but the other members weren’t exactly thrilled with you. You couldn’t blame them. You were currently pretending to be asleep.

you heard aeri enter the room. She laid down, to sleep. The lights were off. It was dead silent. You turned.

“aeri,” you called. No response.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” you continued, after surmising she was asleep. “I love you. I really do. I’m just so, so scared. I don’t know how to let myself love you. I feel wrong. I’m sorry. I want to. I don’t know how to love you how you deserve, I don’t even know how to love myself. Im weak and pathetic, really. If you knew the real me, I think you’d hate me,” you chuckled, without humor. “As long as you’re happy, though. I’ll be okay,” you murmured, finally.

“Im not happy, actually,” she informed, suddenly, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. “I love you, y/n. I don’t care if it’ll make everything more difficult, or if you think I’ll hate you. I won’t, by the way,”

you didn’t know how to respond. aeri did it, for you.

she got up, walked over to your bed, and made you sit up.

“so can you stop being scared? I love you, and-“

you cut her off.

you clutched her face, and kissed her, desperately. You felt tears well in your eyes, and this time, they fell. You pulled back.

“aeri, I love you, I love you so much. I love you, please forgive me. I’ll try, I swear. Please, just-”

she kissed you, again. nothing was completely fixed, yet, but you both loved each other. You were still scared, of course, but aeri had seen you at your worst, already, and was still here. so maybe, it was okay.

the tenth commandment. Genesis 1:1-Revelation 22:21 Love thy neighbor as I have loved you.

The last few weeks had been.. different.

You had started eating again, or, more frequently, was a better way to put it.

it was mostly because aeri had taken up cooking, and you could never say no to her, and it was kind of nice, really, to see her happy when you told her you liked the food.

you started to ignore the comments online, not even bothering to read them most of the time. You called your parents less, if that was even possible, and started talking with aeri and your members more.

it was nice, to have friends. To have people that you knew cared about you. It was nice to know that people didn’t view you as disgusting, or filthy, or wrong.

you had a hard time viewing yourself, differently, but if someone like aeri, someone so good, could stand you, then maybe, you weren’t as bad as your parents said you were. They were wrong about a lot, you’d come to learn.

on one of your breaks, you had found another statue.

it was of Saint Maria.

you put it next to the statue of Our Lady. You thought it fit, in a way.

you didn’t attend sunday mass, or hear it. You didn’t pray much, anymore, either. but you kept the statues as a reminder, of sorts.

aespa had been doing very well, as well, and you didn’t practice late into the night, as much, anymore.

all of you were currently deciding what takeout to order, and trying to pick a move. no one could really come to a final decision, and you watched the bickering amusedly. You got up, heading to the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Aeri appeared behind you, a sly smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around your waist. “Hey, y/n,” she hummed.

“Yeah?” you replied, turning your head. she had a smirk on her face.

“I got you somethinggg,” she grinned, tilting her head, a mischievous expression on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

“what is it?”

she handed you a gold necklace, with rose quartz in the shape of a heart at the end, a bashful expression beginning to take place at your silence. “I didn’t know if you would like it, but it reminded me of you, so-”

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, a genuine smile on your face. “Can you put it on for me?”

aeri removed the silver cross necklace you had worn for years, and years, placing it on the counter. She clasped the new necklace, the gold sitting pleasantly on your skin.

you turned to her, holding her face before kissing her, smiling into it. You left the chain on the counter, a smile plastered near permanently your face. “It’s beautiful, aeri, thank you,”

“Of course,” she replied, with a very self-satisfied grin on her face.

“I love you,” you added, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I love you too, you sap,” she rolled her eyes, good naturedly, but still held you, too. “Come on, let’s go back— i’m not letting them watch a disney movie for the millionth time,”

“So what, you can watch Deadpool?” You teased, with a grin.

“Maybe,” she replied.

it was definitely certain, now, with the silver chain thrown in the garbage, easily.

you loved aeri uchinaga

and you hoped, prayed, even, that the rest of your life would be filled by aeri uchinaga.

A/N: hi guys… so I love aeri uchinaga btw. uhmm so basically the catholic version of the Ten Commandments the ninth commandment is separated into nine “don’t covet your neighbors wife” and ten “don’t covet your neighbors goods” but technically all Ten Commandments can be followed by following the one big rule which is “love thy neighbor as I have loved you” and basically symbolism forever eve breaks all nine commandments but follows the one big one which is like love everyone which means she never actually sinned she just thought she did because she is doomed yuri ☝️🤓

I LOVE TOXIC YURI AND DOOMED YURI FOREVERR pleek send asks+reqs btw I need ideas

#carps works #carpmasterlist #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aeri x reader #aespa giselle #aespa imagines #girl group imagines #giselle x fem reader #aeri uchinaga x fem reader #reader is the comphet religious guilt posterchild #aeri is lowk a little toxic and plays into it #reader is eve aeri is apple and giselle is the snake #in readers insane mind..#just 7k of projection #i love yuri

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 10 months ago

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La~La~la 🦇 anon here with a sagau idea!

I don't play genshin with sound on, I always have my headphones on and sing to some songs while I play witch got me thinking.....

What if reader started singing viva la vida/once upon a december or another song really well and it just so happened that they had characters who are really musical like venti Barbra and xinyan in their party?

It would start out really sweet like them complimenting their creators voice and vibing along, then turn into them trying to write songs that are more like our modern ones!

Venti accidentally inventing an acoustic ballad or smthn (I used almost all my spoons for the first half..)

xinyan making an unholy amalgamation of classic and rock

And Barbra trying out new scales while writing songs about the creator who has the voice of an angel and godly pitch

For a good idea of what I'm thinking try listening to, Viva La Vida (orchestral version) from annapantsu!

(Feel free to add )

OHOHOHOHOHO, 🦇 ANON YOU ARE COOKING.

I need to start crawling out of my hole and listen to the song you're recommending to me ASAP—holy cow, I live under a mountain at this rate (I'm like Azhdaha bro this is NOT good 😭 Watch me run with this blindly bc I keep FORGETTING to listen to the recommendations 🦇 Anon is sending me—)

I won't add any other characters, since the selection you have is already good!

Venti, Barbara, and Xinyan Wanna Jam, Too!

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

WISP BOI SHOOKETH. HE IS WHOOPING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS. MONDSTADT IS GOING CRAZY WITH THIS BARD IN TOWN GOING AROUND ABOUT THE CREATOR—

All jokes aside, he's over the moon to know that about your singing and your song preference. I feel like Venti would try to make his version of the songs you sing :D

By the time you meet in person, man's hands down worshipping your singing like his LIFE depends on it.

"Oh, Your Grace! Please sing your songs for all of Mondstadt to enjoy!" You can hear the literal excitement practically radiating in his voice.

He's very stoked and will sing along if you do decide to sing. Watch him brag this to the other archons (cough Zhongli and Ei mainly cough)

Barbara

The moment she heard the Almighty Creator sing, she thought both you and Barbatos blessed her. I mean, the winds, carrying your voice, to her?!

She's utterly shocked. She doesn't know if she's worthy of hearing your voice—But Barbara loves your voice! Of course the Almighty Creator would have the best voice of all of Teyvat!

She once caught herself humming the song you were singing to previously in the Church of Barbatos. Barbara was so embarrassed because the others managed to catch her humming that strange tune.

When you came around, Barbara was immediately the first one to ask you to sing—albeit a little timidly.

"Y-Your Grace! Uhm...Is it possible if you allow us Nuns at the Church to...hear you sing? Of course, you don't have to agree! We can sing the song ourselves if you wish!" Barbara just really wants to let you know that Mondstadt worships and adores you.

She would definitely make a choir version of the songs you sing. Be prepared to be invited and no, you're insisted to come. By everyone. :)

Xinyan

The first moment she heard you jam, she was loving it! Utterly loves the genre of music she hears from you!

From where she grew up (Liyue), there were some people that were very picky with their taste in music and usually called her rock'n roll a ruckus. To hear you sing something without a care in the world to a song that doesn't really fit to the usual old geezer's standards was utterly refreshing!

Sometimes, when she's given the honor of the stage, she would perform some performances to you and perform a rock'n roll version of the songs you sing. She has a musician's ears after all, she would remember how the riffs go and remix them to fit her style.

When you arrive, you better go out and listen! Xinyan would absolutely credit you and (if your up to it) sing alongside you!

"Haha, Your Grace! You're here—wanna hear my rock'n roll version of your songs?" She's good at remixing, it's almost unfair—

Yeah, none of them realize any of the songs you sang weren't your creation. Good luck explaining to them :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: WHY AM I TAKE 3 ETERNITIES TO WRITE EVERYTHING SOBBING. WHERE IS MY MOTIVATION OFF RUNNING TO ISTG—

Ahem, anyways—I hope you guys liked it :D I'm currently facing a bit of a time crunch atm so my response to requests will be even slower than it already is :') Sorry about that. I hope you guys love this post, though!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #sagau brainrot #genshin cult au #sagau venti #sagau barbara #sagau xinyan #BRO BARBARA AND XINYAN HAVE NO SAGAU TAGS??? SOBBING

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lovelylambi · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 † . ☥

warnings — nsfw, hierophillia, sacrilege, religious themes, corruption kink, blasphemy, finger fuk¡ng, prohibition, overstimulation, subordination, dacryphillia . *

this is my first written smut so enjoy as i wrote is as best as i could ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

The night was rainy in the midst of the night. You arrived to the empty candle lit cathedral, expecting nobody but you. Not a single soul was seen as the rows of seats sat ghostly empty. You were all alone, alone to pray, except you weren't alone, the priest's figure stood ominously, turned away from you.

Every time you'd visit your sermons, you'd always meet his gaze, a sinful feeling of shame lingered everytime you had thought about him. The way his roman cassock suited him as he'd stood there, speaking his sermonic lectures, his image had lingered even after you went home. You knew you had to repent your sins, as it had consumed you. A confession you'd regret but had too for the lord to not make you crave a sinful consumption of guilt and shame, to be forgiven for such impurities.

Your heels tapped against the marble floor beneath you as you walked closer towards the stage of the church. Surrounded you was empty abyss that occupied the rows of seats. The Priest was turned away, lighting candles and praying away as the lights dimly lit the whole cathedral, his figure casting a shadow onto the walls.

The cathedral was hauntingly quiet. Faint organs played when nobody was even there, you can almost hear the dead saints singing a choir. You walked closer, creeping behind the priest until he gazed behind his shoulder, soon turning around, fully meeting your innocent eyes. His tall dark figure stood there while you fiddled your hands together. He scanned you up and down, noticing your quiet timidity. "Father..." You softly gulped down as you felt your throat tighten. He spoke softly while the shadows had caressed his face. His face, soft and comforting, but also cold and emotionless. "Yes my child?" His voice echoed throughout the church, it was authoritative and soft. His hazeled eyes were just as soothing as his words. He slowly blinked at you, his gaze almost staring through your soul. Despite his words being gentle, a hint of danger dwelled in his eyes. You couldn't help but to melt as his scent filled your perimeter, it smelled of subtle incense and cologne. "I – I have something I need to confess, father...." You timidly spoke. His presence seeped into you like a knife. He spoke soft and warm, almost tempting and soothingly haunting, "You do?" The Priest had a strong aura about him that you just didn't even have the mind to back away. You stood before him with your knees trembling, and you could feel his gaze scanning you.

The Priest gently shuts a bible in his hand and places it onto the podium. He then stepped backward, gesturing for you to follow him inside a dark, empty confession booth. His footsteps echoed into the dark booth. You could feel his presence lingering behind the wall, the air felt heavier in there somehow, almost suffocating with the guilt and shame of sin. You didn't know if you'd want to leave while you still can. His presence alone just caused you to quiver at the thought him. He closed the booth and stood there, leaning forward. His shadow casted across over the wall, you couldn't help but stare at his outline. With only the sound of his faint breath, with a sheer wooden windowed–wall separating you, you could hear him quietly utter. "What do you have to confess my child...?" His voice soft. "I have been thinking sinful things... father... things I might not be forgiven for." You spoke in shame. You could feel the guilt loom over you like a shadow. "Sinful things?" His voice echoes out softly, you felt his gaze wander on you like a sharp arrow in the darkness. You couldn't help but to feel your breathing become heavy.

Even if he was the priest and was meant to protect you from sin, the thought of him being alone with you made your heart beat. But you also couldn't help that the sensation was somewhat soothing... but it was wrong, it fueled inside your bones like a disease... "Yes..." You clenched your legs together while you grasped the lining if you skirt as you sat there. You could feel the sinister thoughts not going away, as if god was almost listening. "And what are these sinful thoughts lingering inside of you..?"

"You..." You suddenly spoke of it, the humiliation of coming forward. You almost wanted to cry as you perch your head down in shame and guilt, for someone who's to forgive your sins, you felt an immense burden as it was your own priest that you were sinning for. "Tell me my child..." You were nervous, the thought of what he would do now was worrying. You worried about how he saw you now, as you were an impure girl, not to you, but to him also. You'd always see him at church, but now you see him in a much more sinister light. "What is it that you've thought.. ?"

"I – I can't say, father." Your voice almost plead with a sharp breath. His voice slowly drifted out again and was now more menacing. "Tell me." You felt like a criminal. He knew that the more you'd keep it in, the more guilty you'd feel. Your breathing was getting heavier, it was becoming harder to confess under his gaze. Your legs felt weak. Was this wrong? He was a priest devoted to god. Your voice fell in desperation, "Father.... I want do die for how I am sin itself..."

The Father leaned forward the booth's window, listening carefully to what more you had to say. The only noise was your trembling voice speaking through the gaps of the booth. Your hands clenched tightly together on your lap, hoping for forgiveness, hoping to be cleansed from your sins. He listened intently, soft and calm he was. His gentle voice filled the booth once again, "The lord forgives you dear child..." He was remorseful.

"Father... I repent..." You plead with a soft cry. His voice was deep as he kept leaning in closer. "Now that you've confessed your sins.. you must atone for them."

"Atone them..?"

His voice lowered into a deep whisper. You felt your body grow hotter by the second as he spoke. "Yes... atone..." The way he said it made it sound as if you were about to be punished... you felt even more nervous now, you almost couldn't take it... "Repenting is one thing, but the Lord does not forget easily. You will have to make up for it my child, or else the Lord will not forgive you." You felt yourself shiver at the sound of his words. "How will I... father." You spoke soft and sincere to him. His voice was full of authority, he knew exactly how to get a little lamb full of sin and somber to shiver. "Repentance requires atonement. The only way to truly repent for your sin is through me..."

"And how exactly.." You softly murmured. Listening carefully through the other side, it was cold and silent, as if he wasn't there at all. "Father....." You spoke out once again. No answer...

Soon the door swung open, revealing the dark figure of the mysterious priest. You flinched at his sudden appearance. He gestured you step out of the confessional booth, stepping aside. You brush past his way and followed him towards the stage of the church. The Priest came to a stop near a marble slab table, columns vertically placed onto the sides. The big gothic glass pane window ominously glowed an almost reddish.

You stood in front of him, wondering what he wanted. What you needed.. "Get on your knees..." He demanded. Abide by his command, you knelt to the cold bare floor on your bare knees. "Pray..." It was almost a threatening command.

You prayed for the sins to be forgiven as you closed your eyes and placed your palms together in prayer.

You prayed. Hoping for forgiveness. It was all you could do for the sin you had confessed. The candle flames dancing against you. You fluttered your eyes innocently up towards the priest, your eyes sparkling with the candle lit flames. Praying for any saint that would listen to you and spare you from the sin as you and the father's eyes conjured, his gaze watching your every move as you worshipped for forgiveness. He watched from above like the sinister thoughts you've thought about, it was no different. You closed your eyes and spoke, "Lord, I am a sinner, forgive me for I have sinned before you. Wash away my sin, purify me, and help me turn away from this sin....." You sincerely repented, words slipping softly out of your tongue. You opened your eyes once more, his grimace gaze filled you again. "The lord forgives child, but in this world of impurities, I have not, not quite yet.." He spoke coldly. You slowly stood up, wondering why the prayer hasn't satisfied him.

"Father....?" You questioned. He gently grabbed you by the shoulders and backed you up against the edge of the marble table, his presence looming over you, entrapping you against your will. He didn't dare touch you, not yet.

As stared at you closely, you knew he was about to do something sinful for he is a priest... Yet you felt no remorse. You were his sacrificial lamb to kill. He leaned in, making you more nervous than you already were. His lips merely inches away, you couldn't help but flutter your eyes to his lips. You were in desperation, he was giving you something you wanted, desired. You felt the resurgence of your fantasies, you couldn't help it, he was taunting you. You couldn't take it anymore.

Soon, you couldn't help yourself, as you leaned your lips closer and closer, your lips softly latched onto his like a desperate puppy. His lips devoured yours relentlessly. He grasped his hand on the nape of your neck. There was a taste of chocolate, a sweetness lingering. His lips tasted of salvation that was soon filled with sin. You were now his. You couldn't help but moan for more to consume you, to drown you and take control of your body. To lose you in his lips. His body pressed against yours tightly. The candles danced against the shadows that surrounded him.

You were all his to worship. All his to cleanse. You began to shiver as you unlatched your lips from his, gently pushing him away. "This is all wrong....." The prohibition of it all made you crave for more. It was taboo as you were abide by a man of god. "Forgive me father... I beg you..." You switch between both of his eyes. You were in the sick of it all, as you begged for his redemption. You knew you couldn't redeem yourself anymore, as you had sinned worse than your own thoughts. His face was almost warm and expressional, his eyes giving away lust. "Let the lord forgive me.... I'll do anything... father." You pleaded. "Anything?" The Priest says low and hypnotic. "Yes...." You gave in.

He smirked softly. Your obedience was all he wanted. With just one more step, his lips would finally surge yours once more. His fingers almost reached your lips but didn't. He kept playing the game of your obedience, enticing your innocence and virtue. His voice grew lower. He was almost whispering his words. "Would you do anything and everything I ask of you without hesitation.....?"

You shook your head hesitantly as he slowly wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck once again, softly gasping a sharp breath from his touch. He was merely inches away from your lips. You felt almost lost in the temptation once again. Those warm and gentle lips only the father possessed, was meeting yours once more. You softly whimpered underneath your breath, your palms clenching the table tighter as they soon travelled along his chest, you could feel the remnants of the cross on his neck, making you feel more guilty as you felt his tongue against yours.

The Priest's soft and gentle hands lingered onto your waistline as he kept his mouth against yours, you could almost faint from your delicate and sensitive touch as soft whimpers escaped.

The only thing that mattered now was your sins that were now about to be committed by the one who was supposed to cleanse it.

His soft touch around your waistline picked you up and placed you onto the marbled table, making you wrap your legs around the priest as you felt him against you. You were wrapped in the heat of the Father's body. His hot breath against your neck, his hands wandering around the curve of your waist.

He was taking control. He began to slowly travel his hand along your thigh, gently caressing his hand along your soft delicate skin. Your breath shuddered with each passing moment. Your moans grew into something more passionate as he reached his fingers higher and higher on your thighs, until he reached to your white linen underwear, you knew you were going to repent for life...

Your sudden shutter of soft moans spilled out of you as he touched you. It was almost sadistic with the way he gazed into your eyes. The Priest gave no mercy as he slipped inside of your underwear and mercilessly rubbed your cunt. Your body began to quiver. Nobody had touched you like this. You were his virgin mary, he knew he would make you pray for more.

He seeped his fingers in. Making you shutter your head backwards as you bit your lip. Your soft whimpering moans grew slightly more as he seeped his fingers more and more inside of you. The innocence you wore was an illusion, you were nothing but a a sinful girl that was taken advantage by the Priest. "More...." You pleaded, moaning in desperation. Grasping the black cloth of his clothes. He took in your request, sinking his fingers deeper and deeper inside the abyss of you, in and out of you. He could almost see tears in your eyes, knowing you wanted to cry because of the guilty pleasure you felt from the sins he was committing, making you the left ruins of a sacrificial lamb in his presence.

You were repenting to him, worshipping him as he made you lose control of all your senses, receiving uncontrollable pleasure from a man devoted to god. You felt yourself lose grip with each kiss you made. You were being cleansed in the ultimate sin. Sin which would send you to hell but you didn't care as the priest was only taking you there for his pleasure, you deserved it as you are the sin itself, you were a disgusting girl. You gasped out more whimpers, unlatching your lips from his suffocation. You started to feel overwhelmed at the pleasure, you wanted no more as you begged. "No more, please...." You softly cried out. He didn't care as he continued to finger you with no remorse, his fingers covered in your cum. He thought how impure you were to have to get wet at the priests touch ever so easily. You kept whimpering, wanting him to stop as you became overstimulated with sensation. His hands only travelled further inside of you as you begged him. You could feel the sensations of shame filling your body for your pleas for him to stop were nothing but begging for more to him. You were his to take. He could make you sin over and over again. Your whimpers was the sound of your repentance to his ears. Your pleas for him to stop were simply fuel to the flames that were burning inside you. You felt your mind slipping as he watched you orgasm, your legs quivering. You tried grabbing his wrist but he continued to pleasure you. You were losing yourself, the innocence was slipping through your fingers, the sins were consuming you. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You couldn't help it. The priest couldn't help it either. Each kiss was bringing you both towards the edge. Your whimpering cries becoming more uncontrollable as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

Soon his fingers slipped out of you as you then fall back against the top of the marble table, twitching as you clasped your knees together, your hands grasping at your pussy. The priest seemed to be done with his baptism. He blinked slowly as he was finally satisfied. He walked around the table, reaching to the other side where your head laid, he overlooked you from above as you notice him towering over you. "You're forgiven for all the sins....." He soon reached his wet cummed covered fingers slowly into your mouth. You whimpered as you didn't want to, but he insisted as this was part of your repentance. You licked them clean, quenching the taste of your own cum.

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wakandama2 · 7 months ago

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I wanna Black Carrie-inspired movie, real rep for us stuck in a white country town Black girls. So, walk wit me real quick-

Locational Background: We still set in the late 70's. Set in multiple rural towns, the main town being Chamberlain, Missouri when the meat of the story takes place. We are firmly in the upper south/Midwest tho.

Our Carrie inspired MC is named Alanna(will be relevant and fucked up later)

Alanna's Mama, Evette, is a Black white passing woman and was the daughter of the town's Black tailor and his wife a music teacher and a righteous choir leader for the Black church who was known for a 'voice of power' that was known to shake the church foundations and make people run around the building in glory.

This gift is passive in Evette leaving her with just a beautiful singing voice. Evette's voice and virtuous image and ways draws the attention of a traveling white Evangelistic-leaning cult leader, Alan Hobbs (he's kinda Jim Jones esc) who whisked her off to join his 'missionary' in order to travel around the country to warn of the rapture and demand repentance of sinners.

He unofficially marries her and gets her pregnant and when Alanna comes out looking very visibly Black, he tries to kill her as a baby because he would expose him as being 'sinful'. Alanna's gift activates through her cries and controls Evette's body and makes her stop Alan from killing their baby. Evette screams in despair and her own gift kills him. Evette's feverish (and kinda delusional) faith of what Alan taught her is the only thing that keeps her together when she has to hide his murder and head back to Chamberlain, taking care of Alanna the whole way.

When Evette gets back to her hometown and relays the story to her mother in distress. Her mother is relieved and reveals that the women in their family having Powerful Voices is a gift from their greatest grandmother as she had been blessed to use it to protect her daughters and sisters during slavery. She also confirms to Evette that Alanna's voice has the potential for Powers Grander than the last four generations of women.

Evette skews this information with the teachings of "women's sinful nature" that Alan had taught her and concluded that the gift is actual evil and a curse of sin. She convinces herself that Alanna is the sign of the devil's return and it's her job to quell her.

Evette cuts herself off from her family (especially her maternal side) and runs away to raise Alanna by herself in Chamberlain, pretending that Alanna is actually her niece and taking a public vow of silence (both for her faith and her misplaced guilt for killing Alan) She uses the tailoring skills her father taught her to work as a laundress and commission dress maker for the local tailor.

Between baby to 15 years old for Alanna, It's very much like the movies, Evette being incredibly strict and abusive in teaching Alanna that simply being a woman, was being sinful and to bundle down her emotions because having a temper or tone, to be anything other than submissive and quiet was just as sinful as womanhood. This lesson was particularly to stop Alanna from activating her powers again. There is an additional impact of insecurity she puts into Alanna with her looking Black and being one of the very few colored girls in the town.

Like Carrie, our poor Alanna gets her period for the first time during gym and none of her classmates, besides her only friend an equally shy Creek girl named Talia, are kind to her about it. Her distress makes the showers freak out and ground shake Talia is the only one that calms Alanna enough for the gym teacher to intervene and actually be of use. The gym teacher calls Evette to the school to get Alanna and explain menstruation to her.

After explaining how menstruation is all Eve's fault to Alanna, Evette has her take a cold bath and to read the story of Adam and Eve over and over again. During her bath time as she reads, rage fills Alanna as she gathers feelings that the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of Eden was a trick done on Eve, not her being sinful and selfish. This jolts her powers and with an angry whisper about how wicked the snake was, Alanna suddenly heats the bath water to a temperature that helps with her cramps and is intrigued.

Cue her being excused to the library that entire week. When Talia sneaks out to join her one day she relays all her questions and findings to Talia. Talia confirms that yes, it is NOT normal to heat water or cause quakes with her voice. Period of not. Talia explains how she was an early bloomer like her mother and grandmother and inspires Alanna to look into her mother's side to get explanations.

Now cue Alanna and Talia hijinks as they secretly research and test Alanna's powers for the rest of the week and weekend. Alanna finds all the letters her grandmother had set to Evette trying to convince her that their gift is a good thing and that she is a good woman. Reveling the deep history and various ways the powers of their voice can manifest. Alanna actually contacts her grandmother (call or letters idk what was more efficient for the 70s lol)

During all of this, the other girls are still hazing Alanna (and y'know being both macro and micro racist in their bullying). This comes to a head that next week where the prank they do gets Alanna nearly drowned during swim day.

This causes rage to rear up in Evette that she hadn't felt in years and she lays into the principal and gym teacher to actually give the girls repercussion for their actions. Leading to the three ringleaders to get suspended for a week and banned from prom that following week. They also have to write an essay about kindness.

One of the girls (uh, let's call her Cynthia) actually learns that damn, I was being a mean racist bitch for no damn reason, this girl hasn't done anything to me to warrant this treatment. She becomes cordial with Talia, then works with her Football Captain brother to put Alanna on the radar of the Black boy, Adam, and help him to woo Alanna.

At the same time this outburst of herself and near reemergence of her powers scares Evette and she confronts Alanna to see if it was actually her daughter's powers that caused it (just like at her birth). Alanna says no it was Evette's own and this causes her mother to break down and force a confession from Alanna that yes, she knows about their gift of a Powerful Voice and had been writing letters/calling her grandmother for information.

The two get into basically a battle of Powerful Voice in the argument, nearly causing a damn tornado to hit the town. Alanna proves that she has the greater voice just like her grandmother predicted (also because Alanna has been practicing). This puts her mother into submission and Alanna starts to demand and affirm more kindness (or at least being left tf alone) from her mother.

That whole week of suspension, Alanna is smitten from the soft wooing from Adam and coaxing of Talia and Cynthia for her to accept his prom proposal. While all this happens, the other ringleader (Uh, Susan!) is planning to do the whole public humiliation thing and to have her equally loser boyfriend slash Adam's tires and ruin his battery so Alanna can't get away afterwards.

Alanna grows into her powers, Evette grows more paranoid and passive aggressive. Constantly pestering Alanna that this was a test of the devil. Alanna talks to her about how much she's been hurt by her and for her to confront who hurt her before she loses her daughter. Alanna continues prepping for prom with Talia and her mother's help instead. Alanna gives her mother one more chance to be happy or show support to her daughter. Evette blows it (They are all gonna laugh at you!)

Prom... Happens. Y'all know the drill. Cynthia learns about the prank, tries to get to prom in time. Susan and her dickhead BF scare her by threatening to lie to her father that she's been hooking up with Adam putting both their lives in danger. Alanna is living it up at Prom with Adam and Talia. Cynthia is able to risk it and get Talia's attention to try and earn her, however they end up getting locked out and harassed by the dickhead boyfriend's greasy ass buddies and have to lock into Adam's car for safety.

Pig Blood (or maybe motor oil and chicken feathers) happens, Adam is KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS ( bad gash and concussion fosure) by the bucket falling, racist bs happen.

Alanna clutches Adam close as everyone hollars and taunts her. The school official barely doing anything to try and quell them or laughing along. The few other students of color use their sense of danger to either get the fuck outta there or try to help Alanna and Adam.

Alanna whispers them all to sleep. Prays for protection and calm for them.

Then. She. Screams.

I want FIRE, SCALDING SPRINKLERS, MFUKAS BEING CRUSHES SLAMMED AND CHOKED.

BLACK GIRL MUTHAFUCKIN RAGE TO RIP THEM ALL APART AND RUBBLE THE BUILDING THAT HOUSED ALL THAT HATE

Talia and Cynthia witness it all. The guys that were cornering them are fucking smite by one loud sigh coming from Alanna's mouth when she spots them. Alanna takes in the chaos and can only nod and start walking home, locking her friends into the car for safety.

Say what y'all want about 2013 Carrie, that car wreck scene? Happen exactly to Susan and Dickhead BF when they try to run Alanna over.

Alanna gets home to find Evette crying over the letters from her own mother. The phone has been shattered into pieces and Alanna breaks down and tells Evette everything.

Evette comforts Alanna, true comfort, for the first time in a decade. Bathing, dressing, cleaning and greasing Alanna's scalp as she sings delicate lullabies to her. She makes hot coca and wraps Allan up in a family quilt, reciting the story of Mary and the birth of Jesus to her in a cozy whisper.

As this happens the rescuers are only able to dig out Adam and the few others that tried to help Alanna, out the rubble whole and alive. They break Talia and Cynthia out of the car and the two girls run to Alanna's house. They are barely a block away then the earth rips open and screams. Quake after quake as a twister roars over them and heat snaps into the air, forcing them to huddle into a ditch as God gets angry.

Cars suddenly come to life and speed down the road to crash into the Hobbs' household.

7 minutes later. All is calm. Just a regular spring night, the only thing left is chaotic debris and soft wind.

All that's left of Evette within the mangled and smoldering remains of her home is her charred corpse clutching a pristine crucifix and the ribboned ends of Alanna's braids. The MD determined that the support beam tore through her chest and killed her first before the fire got to her. That the fire is what left just ash and braids of Alanna.

"Good. That Black Devil is banished back to hell." Is what the white pastors and the police chief says.

"My she burn and my child rest." Says parents that don't realize they raised nothing but viscous bullies.

"My friend is gone and I don't blame her for the mess it left behind. But...now I gotta go." Is what Talia tells Cynthia as she and her family flee the town just three days after it all.

Adam is sent to Chicago with his first broken heart.

But little do any know, about the green pickup that flew down the dirt roads, back to a lazy and quiet rural town that Alanna never got a chance to remember before.

Her Grandmother strokes her hair as she drives and tells the mute and shaking girl the story about the slave mother who would rather her baby be dead and free then living and in chains.

#the sleeper agent in me wrote this at 1am in the morning lol #black culture #black writers #black writblr #horror #carrie white #black girl horror #horror movies #horror writing #my movie pitch #may slap this onna google doc lol #black girl rage #black girl reader #70s

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loserboysandlithium · 11 months ago

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x boyfriend thoughts PLEASE

*I’m tipsy. This might not look pretty.* 18+ hoes

Ex boyfriend Eddie knows that every other Sunday you’re forced to attend church with your Grandma. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks. Ignoring his calls. Turning him away every time he popped up at your window.

You shift in your seat on the wooden pew staring ahead as the choir sings until you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look down to see the familiar rings glinting beneath the lights. Shit.

Within minutes you’re on your knees in the church bathroom choking on Eddie’s thick cock as his head falls back against the wall. “Oh god, oh my fucking god.” he pants breathlessly as you look up at him through your lashes.

You take him deep in your throat as you watch him carefully, taking in every single movement he makes. His brown lashes fluttering, the small bite of his lip before his jaw falls slack, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fucker even threw on a red button up shirt and fuck he looked good.

“Just like that, baby. You’re such a little slut. My pretty little slut.” he grunts as his hand moves to your head, pressing down, making you gag on his cock even more.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart. But fuck you look pretty when you do.” he chuckles before bucking his hips just a bit, really starting to fuck your throat, making your tears fall even faster as you splutter around his member.

“How long are we gonna do this, baby? J-just come back to me. You know you want to. You know you can’t fucking stay away.” he taunts, his brown eyes almost black as they stare down at you. You glare back at him as you bring your hands to his thighs digging your nails deep into his skin.

Your attempt at causing him a little pain simply sends him over the edge as his cock twitches, his warm cum spraying down your throat. “F-fuck, shit baby.” he groans as he fills your mouth with his release. You stand up, wiping the excess cum from your mouth, a small smirk playing on your lips.

You spin on your heels and leave the bathroom without another word to him, leaving him standing there with wide eyes, his chest heaving violently as he hurries to pull up his slacks.

Okay byeeeee

#dani answers #arden 🖤#eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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munsonluhvr · 8 months ago

Text

the divine encounter (18+) - gator tillman x innocent!religious!reader | word count - 2.8k

ᡣ𐭩 part 2

It was in the middle of Sunday mass that Gator Tillman spotted you. You wore a too-short-for-church dress, a snug cardigan covering your upper half. Your hair bounced off your back each time you kneeled, stood up, and kneeled again to pray. You were utterly fascinating from behind, the bounce of your hair mesmerizing, the curve of your body mouth watering. When you turned to shake other church goers hands, following instructions from the priest to share thanks with the congregation, Gator caught sight of your face – angelic. Gator knew he had to have you.

“Back row of church,” Gator’s father, Roy, mutters under his breath. “All because you had to stare at yourself in the god-damn mirror and make us late for church. Now we have to stand in the back like some common folk.” Roy jabs the flesh of Gator’s ribs with his pointer and middle finger, digging into Gator’s skin until he wriggles away.

Gator only sighs softly in response, inaudible to his father’s ears. He lets his mind wander to plan what he’ll say to you, occupying his mind away from church’s tedious rituals and his father’s wrath. Quietly, he thanks himself for spending too long in the bathroom and making his family late for church: he never would have spotted you if they were sitting in the front row, like usual, and you were behind him.

Church finishes with the shake of the choirs tambourine and the high-pitched sound of Gator’s father singing proudly, his wife Karen squeaking along beside him. Gator only played along as religious to please his father; he always felt a million miles away from reality when he attends church with his father, step mother, and half-sisters.

Gator watches as you and your own family exit the pew, filing into the center aisle in the middle of church. The small congregation mingles throughout the confines of the church, the priest making his rounds too. You have your hands clasped in front of you, a small smile on your mouth as you greet people. You play the role of innocent, your hair tucked behind your ears, cheeks tinted pink, but Gator doesn’t buy it, not for one second.

Gator turns to tell his father that he’ll be right back, but he notices his father has already left the pew, annoyed with his son’s ogling at the rest of the churchgoers being social. Gator files out of the pew, joining his father and step mother who are gathered in a small group of community members, supporters of his father's. Off to the side, his half-sisters run up and down the steps outside that lead into the back of the church, squealing carelessly.

With his father occupied, surely for a few minutes, Gator takes the opportunity to approach you. You hang back from your family, eyes wandering to the stained-glass windows that line the walls of the church. How has he never noticed you before?

“You look bored,” Gator says, coming up from behind you. He startles you, watching your eyes widen when you turn, your gaze lifting to meet his eyes.

“Forgive me, but I don’t find church… stimulating.” You say, re-folding your hands in front of you. You lean against the end of a pew, angling your body towards Gator. You feel pleased, too, when you notice how Gator’s eyes trickle down your body, taking in the shape of your figure.

Gator chuckles softly, lifting his hands up. “I don’t either but don’t tell my father that.” He lets his body soften, not wanting to show you his sharp edges so soon.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you say, your voice a low hum. Silence lingers between you and Gator, only the sound of the rest of the church mingling filling the gap in your conversation.

Gator wipes his hand on his pants, then puts it out in front of you. “I’m Gator,” he says with assertiveness. “Gator Tillman.”

“Well, Gator, Gator Tillman; it’s nice to meet you.” You say teasingly. Already you were intrigued with Gator’s presence, feeling the urge to run your fingertips across the contours of his strikingly gorgeous face. “I’m y/n.”

Gator cracks a smile, amused with your sense of humor. Gator had grown tired of the girls in Lehigh; bored of their lack of ambition, their inability to be sexually curious. All they did was lay on their backs, legs parted, letting him use their bodies to please himself. Sure, Gator liked the ability to blow off some steam, take time off to do something other than be yelled at by his father or hunt down law-breaking citizens. But he had grown empty and hollow; he wanted something more, something different.

“Are you new to Lehigh? I don’t think I recognize you and I know everyone in this town.” Gator asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

You nod, leaning forward to gently tug down your dress. As you lean forward, the fabric of your dress puckers, allowing for a clear view into the top of your dress. Gator gulps as he catches the sight of your bra-lessness, and the gold cross necklace that rests on your chest, sparkling against the low-lit lights in the church. You straighten your posture, pretending to be oblivious to the stunt you just pulled. A flip of excitement forms in your lower abdomen. “Brand new. My dad was just transferred to the police department here.”

Gator raises his eyebrows, attempting to ignore the way his chest thumped against his ribs, the bulge he could feel beginning to grow in his pants. “That’s wild, my dad is the police chief in Lehigh.”

You coo, crossing your arms against your chest. “I knew your last name sounded familiar. So, you’re the bad-boy they told me to stay away from.”

Gator frowns now, disappointed that you have already been warned against interacting with him. You sense his demeanor change and you’re quick to do damage control. “I’m kidding. Plus, I don’t listen to my parents anyway.”

Gator bites at his bottom lip, feeling the need to slip his leather jacket off, the heat of the church becoming overbearing. “Do you want to have a smoke? They’re in my truck.”

You glance towards your parents who are enthralled in an animated conversation with the priest, obviously occupied and unlikely to notice if you disappear for a few minutes. “Sure.”

The weather outside is frigid, winter approaching at a fast pace. Your bare skin puckers against the cold air, goosebumps forming on your thighs. You follow closely behind Gator as you make your way to his truck. It’s an older model, a deep blue, or is it a dark brown? He opens the passenger side door for you, closing it gently once you’re sitting in the seat. Gator walks around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. He imagines turning the car on, driving you back to his home, fucking you endlessly until you couldn’t walk – but sitting beside you in his car to smoke would have to do for now.

Gator leans across your body, fumbling with the glove compartment. The small door drops open, a pile of colorful, empty vape cartridges rattle inside. Gator inches closer, allowing the strong scent of his cologne to radiate off of him. Your eyes flutter, suddenly feeling an intense hunger for Gator in your abdomen. You shift in your seat, allowing Gator to access the glove compartment.

Gator grasps the vape he had been using before he went into church, and hands it to you to use first. In all honesty, you had never smoked or vaped before. Nonetheless, you took the vape from Gator, grasping the neon green cartridge in your hand, bringing it to your lips and then inhaling. The faux smoke fills your lungs, and you cough, eyebrows knitted in disgust as a light watermelon taste fills your throat. You hold your hand out, returning the item back to Gator.

Gator laughs, watching you cough. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

You shake your head, attempting to smack away the flavor from your mouth. “No.”

Gator leans against his seat, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress that creeps higher and higher on your thighs with each movement you make. Sitting there in his passenger seat, an innocence radiating off of you that he’s convinced is for show makes him wonder how old you are. “How old are you anyway?”

You blow out between your lips, staring straight forward, knowing there is no use in attempting to make yourself older – you will always look young and innocent. “Nineteen.”

Gator whistles, taking a hit from his neon green vape. “We got a young one right here.”

You give Gator a please don’t look which only makes Gator laugh. “I’m just messin’ with you. It’s not like anyone would call the cops. Hell, I am the cops.” You smile, wishing Gator would skip the playful banter and touch you.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask, choosing to be unaware that this question is random and forward.

Gator laughs again, shaking his head. Gator, in all his twenty-seven years of life, had never had a girlfriend; he wasn’t the dating type. Though, he doesn’t feel like admitting that to you. “No.”

You hum, satisfied. You were pent up, your sexual desires beginning to overrule your rationality. You were a good girl, under the watch over your overbearing, strict parents. You were to save your virginity for the man you marry, and because of that, and other temptations that teenagers face, your parents never let you out of their sight. In your old hometown, the boys were similar to trolls, making it easy to stay celibate. Now, however, sitting beside Gator who’s a man, his wandering eye making it obvious that he was attracted to you, you were no longer convinced your virginity belongs to your future husband – it belongs to Gator Tillman. It doesn’t matter to you that you have just met Gator; God may work in mysterious ways, but sexual desire works even more mysteriously.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Gator hears himself ask. His stomach grumbles in anticipation for your answer. He’s pleased when you shake your head no; mostly he’s pleased he doesn’t have to fight another guy to have you for himself.

“You’re awfully pretty, you know.” Gator says, his hand reaching out to brush his fingertips across your bare and exposed thighs. The feeling of his skin brushing against yours makes your skin shiver, your core tighten with lust.

“So are you,” you say, you’re voice coming out lower then you anticipated. Your fingertips toy with the hem of your dress, trying to restrain yourself from your temptations. It’s no use though, your desires overcome your attempts to control yourself.

You lean across the center console of Gator’s truck, holding on to the side of the driver’s seat chair. You break Gator’s personal bubble, though he’s not complaining, and push your lips into his. Gator his quick to let his fingertips intertwine in your hair, bringing you closer to his body. With one hand, he cradles your face, with the other he places on your hip. You sigh softly against his mouth, the taste of his tongue and the flavor of his vape infiltrating your lips.

Gator’s heart thumps against his chest, your proposition catching him off guard. The feeling of your small body pressed against his, your mouth working in unison with his - he is sure he has entered through gates of heaven. Moving his hand from your hip, he grasps your forearm, pulling you onto his lap. You make stealthy movements to navigate yourself onto his lap, yet in the process your rear end brushes against the horn, causing you to jolt in surprise. You laugh softly against Gator’s mouth, and you can feel a smile forming on his.

Now placed comfortably on Gator’s lap, your legs straddling him, you cup his face with both of your hands, deepening your kiss. Gator groans softly, and you can feel him growing hard against your bare legs. Oh, how you want him so bad.

Acting on impulse, Gator lets his hand wander down the length of your body, his fingertips brushing against your panties. You flush feeling his hand against your most sensitive part, wishing you had picked out more grown-up panties that aren’t so frilly.

The feeling of Gator inching closer to touching you begins to make your nerves fray, your head spin. This is the farthest you’ve ever gone with someone; what will Gator think of your lack of experience?

Gator is in his own world, unaware of how your body has tensed the second he put his fingers against your panties. He toys with the edge of your underwear, building up the tension before he plunges his digits inside of you. He has a dying ache to know how you’d feel around his fingers, let alone his cock. With one swift movement, he pushes your panties aside, his fingers finding their way into you with ease. Gator can’t help but smile when you gasp sharply, your lips parting from his. Gator moves his fingers in and out of you rhythmically, moans babbling out of you uncontrollably.

“Such a good girl,” Gator mumbles, feeling how wet you are beneath your panties. Your arousal dribbles down your thighs, down his forearms. He wonders how you taste, how it would feel to have your thighs wrapped around his head.

You feel your body relax as soon Gator’s fingers enter you, and you feel your body respond to the pleasure by rolling your hips against his hand. You hold onto his shoulders, your head leaning back in bliss. Gator takes the opportunity to kiss the front of your throat, and down your chest, maneuvering around the gold cross that rests against your chest. ‘Lord forgive me,’ he thinks to himself. Gator’s mind flips to all the other ways he could pleasure you, putting the back seats in his truck to good use.

You are both in your own world together, not noticing that the rest of the church is beginning to file out the front and side of the building. Your eyes have fluttered shut in pleasure, cracking open occasionally to make eye contact with Gator. It’s then that you notice the side door of the church opening and elderly people begin to exit. You gasp loudly, causing Gator to come back to reality. The bulge in his pants aches, his arousal growing stronger.

“Oh no,” you squeak, climbing off of Gator’s lap. Your cunt feels empty without his long and nimble fingers filling you. You want to know what he cock feels like, how large he is; you just know he’s big. You curse in your mind, hoping that you’ll get a second chance to find out soon.

Gator looks in front of him, letting you get off his lap. His eyes grow wide when he sees his father, still deep in conversation, round the front corner of the church. His heart stops, however, when he sees your father standing in the distance, eyes trained on his truck. “Shit, there’s your dad.”

You look up, your skin beginning to crawl. You quickly re-adjust your clothes and open the passenger door. “I-I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around, Gator.” You offer a small, flushed smile. You feel like you must look stupid, wide-eyed; surely he could sense your inexperience, right? Unbeknownst to you, all Gator can think about is how beautiful you are, the way your blush creeps across the bridge of your nose, the way your eyes glitter against the sun. Gator can’t wait until the next time he can get his hands on you.

“Hi daddy,” you say, quickening your pace to reach your father. Just in his body language, you can tell you and Gator weren’t so slick in hiding your activities together. Your father had made it very clear that you were to stay away from Gator Tillman. “That boy is trouble, y/n, and so is his father. We must not get wrapped up in their wrongdoings.” Your father had said when you first moved to Lehigh, his words firm.

“Princess, what were you doing in Gator’s car?” Your father asks, his suspicions clear on his face. He knew from the second he met Gator that he was trouble, the rest of the police squad confirming his assumptions. Seeing you in Gator’s truck, so smitten so quickly, he knows you and he will be trouble if left alone together.

“We were just praying together, daddy.” You hum, innocently. Your father’s eyes linger on you, his eyebrows knitting together further and further until the creases on his forehead begin to show. He takes in your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, your disheveled dress-straps. He looks until he can’t take it anymore.

“Say a rosary as soon as you get home.” Your father grumbles, turning around on his heel, hoping the grace of the Lord can guide you in a better direction. You nod, following close behind him silently.

As you follow your father towards your family’s car, you glance over your shoulder, catching Gator’s eyes one last time.

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