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strangererotica · 11 months ago

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🥹 I will never be the same after reading this. Bless you. This was beautifully written…♥️

thoughts on an Eddie with a pastors daughter? 👀

ahaha. this started as a headcanon post and then the smut popped off and then my hand slipped and now it's too long to even be a drabble so. boney apple teeth

the pearl rosary

pairing(s): eddie munson x pastors daughter!reader

summary: Eddie's not religious, but he'll listen to you praying all day.

words: 3.7k

warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI), smut, unprotected sex, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fluids play, choking, pull-out, dom!eddie, perv!eddie, mild stalking, sacrilege, religious themes, praying during sex, rosary used as a leash, hozier references ofc

Eddie doesn't go to church, okay? The only thing even slightly religious about him is the cross on his finger, and that's just for looks. He doesn't know a lot about religion besides what he read about Jonestown (that was a whole fixation he had one summer that still persists, don't ask him about Jim Jones unless you want a full in-depth, documentary narration-style explanation of the entire thing.)

Does he believe in a god? Debatable.

He does attend church one time, though, and it's at the behest of Uncle Wayne, who was invited by a coworker's wife. He owes it to Wayne for bailing him out the last time Hop arrested him for possession anyways.

The church is tucked away in some trees and has really intricate stained glass windows, so the only light that comes in is a pretty sort of violet, that washes everything in an ethereal glow. The pews are tiny and the air is heavy with incense, and it feels a little like the new age spiritual shop he wandered into one time in Indianapolis to look at the hand crafted bongs. (Alas, he still wants one.)

He's distracted by the murals all over the walls, though. Nobody ever told him religious art was so horrific. There’s a guy being stabbed to death, angels fleeing from the scene as his murderer drives a knife through his chest. Under the painting, there’s a plaque that reads The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew.

But then you shuffle past, and he's completely distracted by something else entirely.

He's always been a sucker for the sweet-and-innocent type, and you fit the bill completely. Mary-Janes and a bow on the front of your blouse and everything. You're holding something that looks like a necklace in your hands with a crucifix on it. It's this really pretty pearlescent color that shines milky white the purple light from the stained glass windows, cascading over your knuckles and reminding him, perversely, of when he comes all over his hand while jerking off, and jesus h-

He's in a church.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something to get your attention, but then he clears his throat and sounds a little like he's gonna choke up a hairball, and you turn to look at him with this absolutely horrified look on your face. There's a moment where you stare at each other- him, fist against his mouth, trying to come up with something to say and dying inside a bit, and you just trying to figure out what this guy, who looks like a Guns N' Roses reject, is doing in your dad's church.

Eddie finally collects himself enough to say, "I, uh. I like your necklace."

You look down at the rosary in your hands, and you giggle. "Thanks, but, uh... they're prayer beads. It's... really bad form to wear them as a necklace, actually."

Eddie feels stupid. "Oh, right."

Bless him, you can tell that he's trying. He also looks immeasurably uncomfortable to be there, and like he wasn't sure how to even dress- Wayne wouldn't let him wear the battle vest or the leather jacket or a band shirt, so he's sporting no outerwear and a plain black shirt and black jeans.

The rings are still on, though. You motion to them. "I like your cross."

He smiles at you prettily. "I like yours. What prayers do you say with the beads?"

You manage to explain most of how to pray the rosary to Eddie by the time your father steps up to the podium to start his sermon, and the entire time Eddie’s staring at you like you’re something precious. And that's pretty much how it begins.

Now, Eddie's not going to keep coming to church just to talk to you. He's a little selfish in that he's not gonna bore the shit out of himself for a couple words from you every Sunday. He's not religious, and he won't pretend to be for your sake.

It's okay. You like it that he's not religious.

He sees you in town. Goes out of his way to bump into you when you're running errands, more like- in the grocery store, walking out of the hair salon, going to the library. He tries to be as helpful as he can, opening doors and carrying your books and bags and such.

(He cornered Mrs. Walker, who invited him and Wayne to church in the first place, and asked her very pointed questions about you. She sang like a canary. He finds out your dad is the pastor of the church, and that makes it even worse. It makes him want you worse.)

You always look so cute and proper, your hair done up all nice and your outfits neat and tidy. He can't help it. He wants to ruin you.

He doesn't recognize you from school, so he takes the opportunity to ask you one day when he crosses paths with you. "I go- went- to Our Lady Of Peace in Indianapolis. Graduated last year, though."

Be still his beating heart. An all-girls private school.

To his pleasure, he discovers that you're something of a flirt, in your own way. You're quick to give him a gentle ribbing or start preaching at him, "did you read your bible quotes today, Munson? Say your Hail Marys?" although there's no real weight to your words. Sometimes he wonders if you’re really as religious as all that, or if it’s just for appearances to make your father happy.

You could just be a bit of a brat, but he'll figure it out eventually.

What makes him finally lose all composure, though, is the day he sees you coming out of Circle K while he's smoking outside of it. Y'know, like you do during the summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

He's not.. he's not spying on you, no siree. Just because you happen to exit the gas station with a slushie in one hand and a bunch of grocery bags in the other, while he's flat on his ass on the curb beside the ice freezer, does not mean he's spying on you.

You're wearing this sweet white number with purple flowers on it, a scooping neckline and a skirt that hits just below your fingertips. Very fetching, but still modest for the summer of '86. Until a breeze blows.

Your hands are too full to catch your skirt in time, and a little squeak leaves you when your skirt blows up a bit, Marilyn Monroe-style. Eddie glances up as he takes a puff of his cigarette, and gets a full view of your bare ass, no panties in sight. And he nearly sucks his entire cigarette into the back of his throat.

What. On God's green Earth.

His voice is already shaking by the time he manages to quit coughing long enough to say your name, and you whirl around, looking like you've just been caught at the devil's sacrament or something.

"Eddie. Did you-? What are you doing down there?"

"Taking in the view." He points across the street. There's a cow grazing in a field. Good ol’ Hawkins scenery. "Need help with those bags?"

And that's how he gets you into his car.

Now, Wayne has done very well to raise Eddie as a gentleman. That's not to say Eddie isn't still a pervert, because of course he is, but he doesn't proposition you immediately.

He waits for the tension to get unbearable. And then he propositions you.

Your skirt rides up your thighs, drawing his eyes toward you more than the road. He wants his head to be between them more than anything, knowing fully well that you have nothing on beneath that little scrap of fabric. You keep staring at his fingers on the steering wheel, the way his clunky rings tap on the metal, the way the tendons in his wrist flex when he tightens his grip.

You catch each other looking at the same time. His smirk turns absolutely devilish.

"You really want to go home, sweetheart?"

You tell him to pull into the church parking lot. Mostly because you know the church is empty right now and there's some tree cover around it, but also because it's just so damn filthy. All the things you want to do to him, all the pent up sexual frustration, and you have this beautiful boy in the car beside you, all to yourself. You can hardly contain yourself.

Eddie barely gets the car in park before you're sliding across the seat and swinging your leg over his lap. He can feel the damp heat of your wet cunt pressed against the fabric of his jeans, and he nearly creams himself right there. Your lips are on his and he can taste the cherry flavor of your slushie on your tongue, the coolness of it from the ice almost refreshing in the summer heat.

He's wanted this for weeks. He didn't figure you'd be the one to kiss him first.

"Not such a good little Christian girl, are you?" His voice is hard, but his hands are soft when they slide under your skirt and cup your bare ass. "What would daddy think?"

You whimper. You really don't want to be thinking about your dad right now, because it just reminds you how wrong all of this is. How you ran into the ladies' room to take off your panties and shove them into your purse as soon as you saw Eddie outside the Circle K. How guilty you're probably going to feel after all of this raw heat and tension is over-

But then Eddie rocks you against him, and the feeling of his stiff cock grinding up against your bare cunt through his jeans has all thought of regret and guilt flying out of your head

"See what you do to me, dirty girl? Going around with no panties on under this skirt. What if someone saw you, huh?"

Someone did see you. That's why you're here.

He lets you kiss him, grind against him, as much as you want. And you'll admit, you're starved for it. Not a lot of hard-ons to rub up against in an all-girls school, and ever since you graduated you feel like you've been under lock and key. You just need so badly to let go, even for just an afternoon.

When Eddie finally pulls his cock out of his pants, you’re practically panting into his mouth. Your hands twisting the front of his shirt in your fists, you can barely stop rocking against him long enough for him to drag his length through your dripping folds.

“Christ, how are you so wet?” Eddie hisses, his hips bucking as he tries to position you properly.

“Language,” you have the presence of mind to whimper, a weak reminder of where you are. Though, the sound of him swearing only gets you more turned on.

He scoffs. “You expect me to believe you care about that? Look at what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

His cock stretches you so wide. It’s not your first time- which was painful, and awkward, and the exact opposite of sexy in any sense- but heaven help it if it isn’t the best you’ve ever felt. Your eyes fall to where you’re joined, skin flush against skin, your cunt wrapped around him and welcoming him even further.

You want to move. You have to move. It’s the only thing that’s right.

“Eddie,” you whisper, your voice sounding too strained and weak in your throat. Your hands shake, tugging at his shirt. Your face burns. You want him naked. You want to feel his skin against yours.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good for me,” he coos softly, gazing up at you with wide, dark eyes as he pulls you closer to his chest. His hand strokes across your face, a soothing touch to calm your overwhelmed system. “Have you said your prayers today?”

You open your mouth, but all that comes out is a rush of breath when he rocks you forward against him, his cock brushing up against something impossibly soft and sensitive inside you.

“You better say them, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages gently, his hand leaving your face to reach for your purse, on the seat beside him. His fingers latch around pearlescent beads, dragging them slowly out of the bag. “Just to be on the safe side, hm?”

A pair of pink panties comes tumbling out of the bag, snagged on the crucifix at the end of your pretty rosary. Eddie smirks, snatching them up before you notice what he’s found.

You’re too focused on the feeling, starting to rock on his lap so that his pubes grind up against your clit, searching for some sort of stimulation because he won’t move. Truthfully, it’s not because he’s lazy, it’s because Eddie wants to watch you use him. He’s getting off on the thought that you’ve been dying for it just as much as he has. He likes seeing you so desperately needy, taking your pleasure from him and working yourself on him, when you’ve been trying to appear like an innocent little good girl all this time.

You don’t feel the string of beads until they’re digging into your skin, the loop thrown over your head and wound around your neck. Eddie’s clutching them, pulling you down against his lips by the chain of pearls.

“Eddie,” you whimper, your hands clawing up to cup his jaw. “Not a necklace. Bad form.”

“Bad form?” he parrots at you, rolling his hips up to meet yours. You both moan in tandem, and his hand slides up the chain of pearls to tighten it around your throat like a choker. “Bad form to be riding my cock in a church parking lot, angel.”

You think you could die right here, but you don’t know which way you’d be going after the fact.

“Go on, baby,” Eddie says lovingly, lifting the crucifix to your lips as if he isn’t tightening the chain around your neck with his other hand. “Show me how you pray. I think I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Your breath doesn’t want to come into your lungs, stuttering across your lips when he hitches you up by the hips and tugs you back down onto him. You grasp the crucifix with a shaky hand, closing your eyes as if it’ll make what you’re doing any less sinful.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven-” a whine punches from your chest when he thrusts his hips up into yours. “Hallowed… hallowed be thy n-name..? Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. On Earth, as it is in Heaven.”

“My god,” Eddie whispers, and you have the mind to smack him. He listens to you recite the prayer to the end, fingers stroking the crucifix at the end of the chain like you’ve fallen into the routine of it. It comes as second nature once you begin, not even really focusing on the words as they come.

You move your finger to the first bead on the chain. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee- shit! ”

Eddie laughs at your slip-up, but the only reason that you do is because he’s turning you, your legs thrown across the dashboard and over the back of the front seat of the van as he settles on top of you. Your purse digs uncomfortably into your lower back, creating a bend in your spine where you otherwise would be laying flat.

He sinks his cock back into your wet cunt, gliding with ease and reaching the very end of you. The moan that you make is guttural, an animalistic noise unleashing from the back of your throat.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he prompts softly, but his voice is shaky and his eyes are dark and wide. His finger comes up to twist the chain of pearly beads around his knuckle, bringing it to his lips as he gazes into your eyes. “Hail Mary, full of grace…”

“The L-lord is with thee…?” You reach up, your fingers skimming Eddie’s lips where it touches the beads. You fumble over your words, but manage to finish the prayer. You manage to finish it three times over, actually, while he pumps his cock inside you with thrusts that rock the car. If anyone were to even take a glance at the van, it would be obvious to them what’s taking place inside, and the thought makes your toes curl.

“Oh, Eddie, I can’t take it.” Your voice is breathy, whiny, the words burning in your throat. You’re so close to coming, it’s right there, and he just won’t stop.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he insists, his hand coming up to grab the windowsill above your head. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, his hips grinding up against yours so perfectly that you make a small squeak in the back of your throat, and all your muscles lock down around him.

Eddie curses against the touch of your finger and the pearl on his lips, and he pulls his hips back just at the last split second. Hot cum spills across your cunt and onto your thighs, your hips bucking up to try to find his again.

You drop your head back, eyes screwed shut to stave off the frustrated tears that want to bubble out. God, you were so close. So close. He couldn’t have lasted one more second?

Eddie huffs a breath, glancing down at your face. He knows with just a look where you’re at, what you’re too shy to voice. You didn’t come. And Eddie Munson is, first and foremost, a gentleman.

Perverted, yes. But a gentleman.

“Eddie, wh-?” You nearly jump as he sinks his body down between your legs, cramming himself back against the driver’s side door.

“Made a mess of you, sweetheart,” he says simply. “And you look so pretty like this, but m’gonna clean you up.”

His tongue licks deeply, like he’s searching through you for every drop of arousal and cum he can find. He avoids your clit, though, and you can tell it’s a conscious decision, because he refuses to go where your hands tug him.

Eddie feels you getting desperate, hips lurching against his face and your hands pulling relentlessly at his long hair. He gazes up at you from between your thighs, half obscured by the skirt of your dress that’s bunched up around your middle in a giant white and purple cloud.

“Being so good for me, angel. You got one more to do, see?” He reaches up, pinching the last isolated bead on your rosary before the medallion. “You can say one more for me, can’t you?”

You suck in a short breath, your fingers falling to caress the pearl in his. “Glory be… to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.”

Eddie lowers his head. He licks a long line up your thigh, cleaning off a thick smear of his cum as he goes, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Your breath stutters in your chest, because he meets your gaze as he does, and his eyes are black as sin.

“As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be,” your words come out rushed and hollow. His breath hits your swollen cunt, pulsing and needy for him. “World without end.”

His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks hard. All the air in your lungs rushes out at once, your hands latching onto the back of the seat and the A/C vent beside your head, trying to hold yourself in place when you come.

It’s devastating. Your head arches backwards, and without thinking, you cry out, “OH FUCK!”

“Amen to that,” Eddie chuckles, sending waves of vibration through your shuddering limbs. His tongue caresses every inch of you, until there’s not a drop of cum (his or yours) for him to clean up. He takes his time with it, far longer than it takes for you to finish orgasming against his face, until you’re beyond overstimulated and every pass of his tongue over you makes you fidget.

He touches your clit with his tongue one last time, and you jerk away from him so suddenly that he laughs, and pats your thigh soothingly. “I think we’re done.”

You hum, running your fingers through soft strands of his hair. The air in the car smells like sex and sweat, the windows long fogged up. You lay like that in comfortable silence; your legs wrapped around the middle of his torso, and his head fit comfortably in the dip between your breasts.

(His legs have fallen asleep where they’re jammed awkwardly down into the hollow beneath the steering wheel, but he won’t mention it to you. He doesn’t want to get up yet.)

He listens to your heartbeat for a very long time, so long that something occurs to him that… definitely should have occurred to him before he fucked you. He thinks he knows the answer, but he can never be too sure. “Was that your first time?”

You blink your eyes open, your fingers pausing in their route through his hair. You’re trying to gauge his tone of voice. He sounds nothing but… hesitant. Hesitant to ask the question, and hesitant to know the answer.

“No,” you tell him honestly, and he visibly relaxes. He can’t help it. His eyes fall shut, a long breath escaping through his nose and tickling across your chest. “Why- did you sleep with me because you thought I was a virgin?”

“No! No.” He picks his head up, and he looks so serious. “I didn’t. Honestly, it doesn’t… I don’t mind either way. But I just figured, y’know. If that had been your first time, and I’d known, I, uh- I mean, I would’ve been more gentle about it.”

“You mean you wouldn’t have used my rosary as a leash?”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have… and there would have been a bed. And rose petals. And candles.”

“Sounds nice,” you hum thoughtfully. “Could still do it.”

Eddie’s heart warms in his chest. “Better late than never, right?”

“Well, how else am I gonna test what you learned today?” You watch his eyes widen when you grab the string of pearls and pull the loop over your head, and lower it over his. “I hope you were paying attention.”

Eddie grins. He knew you would be a brat.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x pastors!daughter #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie smut

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st4rbwrry · 5 months ago

Text

𝒟𝒜𝒩𝒢𝐸𝑅𝒪𝒰𝒮𝐿𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

꒰ forbidden love with a southern boy sounds fun. a pastor for a father, and living in a small town with god-fearing, gossipy folk was not. ꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 16.8k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, set in 95’, farmer!eren + bluecollar!eren, domesticity, established relationship, talks of religion, small mention of abuse and alcoholism, forbidden love, sneaking around, age difference + time skip, lotssss of arguments, oral sex ꒰ f + m ꒱, quiet sex (they try ;3), fingering, spanking, lots of kisses, eren’s rlly affectionate, foreplay, rough sex, size difference, spitting in mouth vv briefly, sub/dom dynamic, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms + overstim. minors do not interact. reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ theme songz + mocha’s note ! ꒱ . . . i’ll be by edwin mccain + movie by avenoir. . . i rlly like this plot, didn’t mean for it to be so long srry. but it’s good so ;) very notebook themed.

part two ? <3

getting married in secrecy was every family’s worst nightmare. the opportunity to see their creation speak soul-written vows to their lovers and part ways into unity. to laugh and dance together, snap photos, share cuisines and three-tiered intricately crafted fondant cake. helping their daughter pick out a dress, and their son a tux. all of those memories are delicate and forever cherished. to be ridden of that felt cruel. but, what family deserves that when they don’t accept who you're giving your love to? when they find the person you’re marrying selfish, undeserving of your love, and rude? those are the words people used to describe eren, your husband.

the sun beats down upon the quaint southern town of georgia, casting long shadows across the freshly cut lawns and pegasus-painted houses. a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the ancient oak trees lining the streets, their gnarled branches stretching towards the cloudless sky. in the heart of this idyllic community, nestled between the town square and the bustling main street, stands a modest yet stately residence. this is where you resided years ago with your father, the reverend pastor kain. the house exudes warmth and tradition, its wraparound porch adorned with rocking chairs and potted azaleas. a white picket fence encircles the property, symbolizing the tight-knit neighborhood and the values upheld within these walls.

inside, the air is thick with the scent of pot roast bubbling within the choral blue dutchoven and the soft hum of gospel hymns drifting from the living room in soft symphonies from your sickly mother. diagnosed with kidney failure yet always ensuring the three of you had the warmest days. the cool interior provides a welcome respite from the summer heat. the polished hardwood floors creak beneath your feet, leading you past a formal dining room with a sturdy oak table and matching chairs. family photographs line the mantel above the fireplace, capturing moments of joy and love.

your father's study lies at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. through the crack, you catch a glimpse of his desk, cluttered with stacks of paperwork, sermons, and bibles. the faint aroma of pipe tobacco wafts out, mingling with the musty smell of aged books. despite the comforting atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension hangs in the air, a palpable reminder of the forbidden nature of your love and the stern disapproval of your father, the man of god who once guided you with unwavering devotion.

you’ll never forget the intensity of your heart racing as you held eren’s hand within your own and stood before your father proclaiming your love. the look of disappointment on his face with furrowed brows, smile lines deep as he frowned and stared unwavering. the stern posture he’d taken by leaning up in his chair and hearing the nonsense coming from both of you. the bickering between him and eren while he held your hand the entire time, silently telling you he’d protect you while you shut out the aggressive sound of your father’s voice.

your love blossomed in stolen moments, snatched between the cracks of duty and expectation. in the hushed whispers of late-night phone calls, the furtive glances exchanged across crowded rooms, and the fleeting touches that set your skin ablaze with longing. the two of you would meet in secret, hidden away from prying eyes and ignorant tongues. in the shadows of the park, where the crickets sang their serenade and the stars twinkled overhead. or in the cozy confines of his pickup truck, parked along lonely stretches of highway, miles from home.

there, in those intimate spaces, you’d lose yourselves in each other. lips meeting in passionate kisses, hands roaming freely, exploring the curves and contours of your bodies. you’d talk with him for hours, sharing hopes and fears, dreaming of a future where you wouldn’t have to hide your love.

you met on a warm evening on your way to the farmers market, finding him churning butter with broad muscles, naked from his upper body and inked out over his neck and dominant forearm. there’s a slit in his right eyebrow that also held a piercing. slightly wavy brown hair pulled into a bun with baby blue overalls clinging to his skin.

when he locked eyes with you while you pushed a cute green grocery cart, your heart immediately bloomed. those slanted grayish-green eyes with long, brown lashes of his stealing your strength. his movie star smile with a toothpick lodged between his teeth as he finally caught your gaze. the sun shone down on him, casting a golden glow on his tanned skin and ricocheting off the silver dog tag around his neck making him look even more attractive.

the man gave you a wink before returning to his task, a sly smile playing on his lips. his arms flexed as he churned a bit harder, obviously showing off now that he knew he had your full attention. shyly, you pull your eyes away from him and pretend you don’t notice him staring as you inspect the vegetables before you. once he had finished, he wiped his hands off on a cloth and strode over to you, his overalls hanging from his hips now after he popped them free in front of you, sweat clinging to his skin. he stood in front of you, a cocky smile plastered on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, a few beauty marks littered across his skin.

he waited for a moment before speaking up, his voice low. “you know, you’re not very good at pretending you don’t notice me.” he chuckled as he spoke. “i can see you stealin’ glances at me from the corner of your eye.”

goddamn, you nearly short circuit from hearing his voice. it’s deep and slightly raspy. the smell of him is almost natural and sweet. you caught a whiff of apple. or maybe butter given he’d been working on it for the past three hours.

“and if i was?”

eren’s smirk widened at your snarky response. he took a step closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours as he looked down at you, tilting his head slightly. “then i’d say you have a thing for hot and sweaty country boys.”

“yuck, that was so corny,” you giggle in his face.

he rubbed his forehead with his palm, feigning disappointment at your response, but he was secretly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. “mhm, yeah. it was, wasn’t it? sorry, i’m not good with talkin’ to pretty girls.”

you hum. “mhm, i bet you say that to all the girls. it’s a small town, and you’re attractive. i hear lies.”

“y’know, a liar doesn’t usually apologize for his bad pickup lines. unless . . . ” his voice was a low, sultry murmur now, and his eyes held an intensity that made you feel as if he was peering into your soul. the heat from his body felt like it was seeping into your own, and the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity as he spoke. “he means it. and you aren't calling me a liar are you, darlin’?”

the way he looked at you made your heart thump hard in your chest, and the fact that he was so close made it difficult to think straight. there’s no doubt that this man was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, in real time at least.

“you’re staring awful hard, like what you see?”

“maybe i do.”

“only maybe?”

“i do,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“geez, w’na marry me already,” he jokes, and of course you laugh like a lovesick teen. “i like your laugh, it’s cute. teehee.”

listening to him mocking you made you gasp and lightly hit his arm. “stopp, i don’t sound like that!”

“do so,” he slowly licks his lips, scanning you from head to toe. “i’d like to get to know you, if you don’t mind.”

you nearly choked at the suggestion. me? he wants . . me? no way. “uh, you don’t even know me. didn’t even ask if i had a boyfriend.”

“are you tryin' to say you have a boyfriend?”

“no, i don’t. but, i'm not allowed to.”

a frown briefly tugged at his lips as he heard what you said, the meaning behind your words sinking in. not allowed to? “how come? strict parents? celibacy? . . nun?”

“okay, asshole,” you scoff.

eren throws his hands up in defense. “sorry, just honestly askin’.”

you began to fidget at the thought of telling him about it. what if he ran away because he wanted nothing to deal with it? he notices your reluctance, and almost says something to dismiss the conversation for your sake. “my father’s extremely religious, well known in this town, actually. pastor kain.”

“oh,” eren nods, understanding clearly now. he tried to be as considerate as possible, even though part of him didn’t care. if he wanted you, he’d have you. “so you’re the daughter. funny, me seeing you only now. he’s that strict he don’t let you come out or sum?”

“ ‘the daughter’. why do you say that as if i have some type of rumor about me going around?”

“no, no, it’s nothing too serious. maybe a little insensitive, but . . i’ve just heard people whispering about your family and whatnot. things like your father being up his own ass or you being a . . i’ll dial it down to prude ‘cause i find other shit said derogatory, and i'm sure untrue.”

pursing your lips, you hum at the things being spoken behind your back. it’s not surprising. “thank you for telling me that. i’m sure a lot of people have opinions about me and my family. my dad can be a bit of a hard ass. and i surely wouldn’t call myself a prude. just because my family is religious doesn’t necessarily make me feel the same.”

“you’re not christian?” he asks.

“no, not at all. i mean, i believe in something. i pray, i talk to someone, but i don’t consider them god. personally, i call them my fairy godmother,” you smile sweetly, thinking that sounded kind of silly. “sorry, that must sound childish.”

“it doesn’t, it’s cute,” he chuckles. “i feel the same. agnostic is the term for me. plus, i’m more of a spiritual person. crystals and shit.”

your brows raise. “wow, that’s rare to hear a man say that, at least here. it’s refreshing.”

"why's that? you not from here?"

"nah, me and my mother are from the city. philly. he ended up moving us here after getting the deed to his grandfather's house. we've been here since i was ten."

eren shifts where he stands, removing the hair tie from his hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. tucking a strand behind one of his ears and shoving his hands into his pockets. “so does he have you on lockdown for the summer?”

“pretty much. he’s got me set on studying for college. any other distraction in my path he throws a fit. i usually have free time whenever my mom needs something, like groceries for instance. i have friends and shit, i promise.”

eren rolls his tongue and plants another toothpick in his mouth, chewing on it and watching as you curiously observe. to do the honors, he answers before you ask. “cigarette addiction. tryna cut back.”

“makes sense.”

“how’s about we keep it a secret?"

his tone was firm yet determined as he spoke. he knew it wouldn’t be easy to keep a relationship a secret from the pastor, especially with how overprotective the man was of his daughter. but he was willing to do it, to give you a chance to be happy and not live the way your father demanded. life’s too short, and you’re young and pretty. the thought of sneaking around with you, being your dirty little secret, made his heart thump in excitement. he was never one to play by the rules anyway.

“you mean like . . sneak around?”

“yeah. with your permission, of course.”

for some reason, his intentions felt sexual. maybe he had heard the rumors and wanted to see what you were like and change that. you’re not a virgin, luckily the person who took it moved out of town therefore it remained a secret from everyone. he’s pretty to look at, nice on the eyes, fairly polite, and a flirt. but, you couldn’t put your finger on it. and if this was going to be a waste of your time, you surely didn’t want to risk your father finding out.

so, you decline. “i gotta go, i’m sorry. it was nice meeting you though.”

eren couldn’t help the slight grimace that appeared on his face when you extract your hand to give him a handshake. it felt so formal and . . cold. your dismissive tone and gesture made it seem like you were done, like you were giving up on the possibility of even interacting with him again. he wanted to question you further, but didn’t want to come off as pushy.

“yeah, same to you.”

while flashing a final smile, you push your cart around him to head for the check out counter.

“when can i see you again?!” he shouts across the open market, hands cuffed around his mouth so you hear him loud and clear.

“around!”

eren felt a small ache of disappointment at your vague response, but couldn’t help but smile at the frantic pace you left him at. he knew he’d see you again, he’d make sure of it. two weeks passed and the city’s fair was bustling with the townships' people. one they held every year right before halloween. you’d volunteer to help your mom with her candy apple stand, taking any opportunity not to be stuck home studying.

the county area was picturesque, a perfect example of the serene beauty of rural life. the fields stretched out as far as the eye could see, rolling hills dotted with occasional trees breaking up the endless stretches of greenery. cows and sheep could be seen grazing in the distance, their peaceful presence adding to the tranquility of the setting. the air was clean and crisp, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers as the sun set into the night. the fair being held was a hive of activity. children running around laughing and excited chatter adding to the general din of the crowds. the smell of food wafted through the air, the scent of funnel cakes and other fried goods mingling with the underlying aroma of hay and dirt. bull rides and horse races occurring.

eren found himself wandering through the fair, his thoughts preoccupied as he looked around. he didn’t really feel like playing games or participating in activities right now, he just wanted to clear his mind. but as he strolled past the laughing crowds of people, he paused, noticing a familiar figure nearby. his heart skipped a beat as he recognized you, and a small jolt of excitement coursed through him. your dressed in dark blue low rise affliction jeans that were flared towards the bottom along with a matching vest top and black western boots. a plain black cowboy hat atop of your head. your hairstyle changed completely the last time he saw you. it’s longer, reaching the middle of your back in soft, curly bora bora braids. you looked beautiful. straight out of a dream. a magazine even.

the wind blows roughly, and from where he stood he could smell the gourmand of your perfume. he stopped only a few feet from you, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to look casual. despite the outward appearance of coolness, his heart was beating fast against his chest, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness coursing through his veins. he hoped you’d be happy to see him again, but he also couldn’t shake the fear that you might reject him. . . again.

you were stationed at a small booth, an array of freshly made candy apples neatly lined up for sale. the aroma of sweet, sticky apples mixed with the sugary coating filled the air. a woman who stood beside you who stole your entire face, or more-like you stole hers, taking orders from customers, dipping each apple into the thick, red coating before handing it over with a smile. as he drew closer to you, he plastered a careless smile on his face, trying to appear nonchalant. he raised a hand in greeting, waving at you casually.

“hey, what a coincidence.”

catching his attention, the glint in your eyes reads more than your face does, discreetly giving flirty while your smile is faint. you’re stunned to see him, in fact. briefly eyeing your mother before speaking. “oh, hi! um. . . didn’t catch your name before.”

“oh, uh. it’s eren. yeager. eren yeager.”

he felt a slight flush of embarrassment as he said his name. he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to even introduce himself when he’d first met you. he’d been so eager to get to know you, to convince you to give him a chance, that he’d completely forgotten to mention his own name.

“right, how are you?”

“uh, good. yeah, i'm good.”

“are you here with family?”

“nah, i’m here with some friends. they’re wandering off somewhere,” he says. “are you? is your father here?”

“he isn’t, actually. i just volunteered to help my mom out with her stand!”

eren’s smile grew just a fraction bigger at your response. he was silently grateful to whatever divine entity was watching over him for keeping your father from being here. it gave him a chance to talk to you freely.

“is that so? so you’re not being watched over right now?”

“i’m twenty, i don’t need to be watched.”

“point taken,” he purses his lips, eyes trailing over to your mother who was clearly ear-hustling. eren decides to introduce himself. “how you doin’, ma’am. it’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“oh, hello!” your mother smiled back, turning her body fully to take in his sudden attention. she’s just a smaller version of you, same pretty face now slowly wrinkling with time. gray kinky curly hair that grazes her shoulders. she’s dressed in a long navy blue dress painted with yellow daises, a white apron draped around her neck. she smiles at eren’s charming demeanor. “are you a friend of my daughter's?”

he gave a small nod. "yes, that's right.”

you could tell your mother scrutinized him for a moment, taking in his appearance. she could tell he was well-groomed and well-spoken, but she also had a watchful eye for any potential troublemakers. she glanced over at you, noting the way you were watching the interaction between the two of them, and then glanced back at eren.

“well it’s nice to meet you. i don’t believe you gave me your name,” she nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze still appraising him.

“apologies. i’m eren yeager, ma’am.”

she took in his name and the way he presented himself, weighing him silently in her mind. she was clearly being protective, trying to figure out if he was a suitable friend for you or not. you sigh deeply, twirling your fingers anxiously. eren notices.

“ah, so you’re the eren i’ve heard about. the troublemaker.”

“ma. .” you eye her, as if telling her not to start.

he smiled innocently, a small hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. he didn't think he was quite as bad as the rumors might’ve made him out to be, but he also knew that he wasn't exactly the most picture-perfect person.

“troublemaker, huh? didn’t know i was known for that. i can tell you that i'm the sweetest person you’ll know if that eases you.”

“hm,” your mother squints suspiciously, a small giggle, surprising to you at least, coming from her. you blink at her, brows furrowing. does she find him sweet? “aren’t you charming. i hope you stand by your word.”

this was becoming awkward for you. given the way you were raised and the household you grew up in, your mother was always the sweet one. stern when needed, but for the most part she let you be your own person. she still had heavy concerns for the people you chose to surround yourself with. and a man wasn’t exactly something she’d be ecstatic with. but with her sickness, and unknowing of the time she had left, she’d let her guard down to see you happy. if he were to break your heart, it’d only be a lesson you’d have to learn on your own.

you remove your sight off of the pretty boy before you, the stand quieting down from attraction to hold her shoulder endearingly. “mama, would it be okay if i stepped away for a bit? just to talk.”

“just for a bit, alright? and make sure you’re only talking,” she says, throwing eren a warning glare. you groan, titling your head annoyingly.

eren nodded in understanding, silently vowing not to do anything that would give your mother a reason to get between you two. the last thing he needed was a scolding from a protective parent, especially one as dedicated as yours. he already had to potentially worry about your father. he gave your mother a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worry just a bit. “don’t worry, ma'am. we’re just going to head to the hoedown for a dance.”

you shoot him a look, dancing sounds different from talking. he smirks.

“alright, fine. but you be back before ten, okay? no funny business.”

shaking your head, you give her a peck on the cheek. “promise mama. thank you.”

“mhm hmm.”

she watches eren step aside as you remove your apron, maneuvering around the stand as he elongates his arm with a gentle ‘after you’, the two of you strolling away, but not before you turn to look back, giving her a grateful yet giddy smile. your mother chuckles, waving and smiling back, her heart warming at the sight of eren reaching to hold your hand that you hesitated to take before giving in. she couldn’t help but think this was going to be trouble.

“she seems nice,” eren mutters, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “yeah, she’s very sweet. just can be a bit overprotective.”

“it’s good you have parents that care for you like that,” he replied, an almost sad tone in his voice.

"yeah, they. . they're cool," you say, faltering slightly as you try to find the right words. “what about yours?”

you look up at eren, trying to catch his eyes, but he's staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his expression closed off. it’s clear that he doesn't want to dive too deep into it, but you can't help but wonder what could've happened to make him react like this. he clears his throat uncomfortably, protectively holding you close as he guides you through the crowd. it makes your heart jump.

“dad isn’t the best.”

“. . oh.”

the ranch slowly comes into view, the sounds of music thrumming louder as you approach. there’s a large, open space filled with people dressed in their best western attire, a sense of excitement and nervousness overtaking you. eren leads you through to make your way towards the center of the ranch, where the dancing and festivities are already in full swing. the music is lively and upbeat, couples twirling and spinning across the makeshift dance floor. others chugging down drinks at the bar.

“you w’na show me how you move?” there’s a certain look in his eye, something else that you can't quite identify. his confidence is infectious.

the crowds contagious, and it’s clear that everyone is having a great time. but you can’t help but fidget at the thought of dancing with someone you’re extremely attracted to. who smelt like patchouli, dressed in all black with tan, slightly roughed up cowboy boots. who’s smile is as bright as the moon, chocolate long hair making him look like the prettiest prince. it felt like a date. and technically, this would be your very first one. which, now that you’re thinking about it, is probably why your mom looked at you the way she did.

you cower, biting your lip. “um, i . . can’t dance. at least the way they are.”

eren raises his brow at your declaration. “really? hm.”

you swallow when eren’s hand pulls you a little closer by your hip, gently resting there to guide you into position. "don't worry. i’ll lead, and you just follow. it’s not rocket science, right?"

“okay.”

he starts to move, slowly guiding you into a basic step. despite your lack of knowledge, you try your best to keep up with him, your eyes glancing down at your feet every now and then out of fear of tripping. eren notices your hesitation and gives a small laugh. he keeps his arm around your waist, making sure you don't falter.

"relax. you’re doing fine. stop looking at your feet so much. you’re going to fall if you keep it up.”

“sorry,” you giggle, your initial nerves starting to fall off as you let him guide you.

he spins you around gracefully, his hand still firmly holding you in place. you're starting to get the hang of it, your body slowly moving in time to the music. the expression on eren’s face is a mix of amusement and pride; it's clear he's enjoying teaching you to dance. as the music changes to a slightly faster beat, he picks up the pace a bit, twirling you around with practiced ease. his steps are confident, his grip firm yet comfortable. you find yourself actually enjoying the experience, laughing at your own clumsy attempts to keep up with him. his smile widens, his eyes shining with a playful glint as he watches you. amused by your honest attempts of catching up.

the music slows down eventually, and now plays a soft melody that has couples pulling each other closer to slow dance romantically. rolling your lips inward, you beam up at him with a soft chuckle. i’ll be by edwin mccain playing, and it happened to be one of your favorite songs. the moment becomes intimate, and eren makes a move to rest both hands on your lower back to pull you even closer so your chest touches his. the warmth from his body onto yours gives you goosebumps. it gets more romantic when he places your arms on his shoulder, your hands interlocking while his eyes lock onto yours. bodies swaying slowly with the melodious tune.

“don’t know if i told you how pretty you are.”

you can feel a flutter in your chest at the unexpected compliment. you turn your eyes away from him, a small smile playing on your lips as you try and hide your reaction. you can feel the warmth rising in your face, and you have a feeling he notices it too. “and i told you that you say that to all the girls.”

you’re unsure what switched, but his face grows calm, studying your face intently, hugging you closer as if you’d slip away. that makes you alert. “so . . your mother thinks i’m trouble. i’m not sure what you’ve heard about me. we do live in a small town so shit gets around, including rumors. but, what i’m worried about is how you perceive me.”

the tone in his voice catches you off guard, his eyes fixed on yours with an almost vulnerable expression. “um, i haven’t heard anything about you to be honest. i don’t really stick my nose in drama, or the bullshit older folks gossip about. clearly, my mom knows, and i’ve heard something minor about your father. . i just — don’t want things like that to cloud my judgment of you. i’d wanna get to know you from you.”

he swallows, trying to contain his thankfulness. “seriously?”

“yeah, i mean . .” you shrug shyly. “people don’t necessarily have many nice things to say about me or my family apparently. i guess you could say we’re two peas in a pod.”

“outcasts,” eren prys in a small joke.

“complicated, whatever. misconceptions everyone makes when they don’t know shit. if i get to know you, and get what i think we want to get from each other, and it turns out to be great or goes completely to shit? then that’s for me to decide when i’m ready.”

“you’re absolutely right,” he sighs. “i fuckin’ hate this town sometimes. i’m twenty-three ‘n i feel like i'm stuck here. i just wanna run away and start a new life.”

“i feel the same,” you weakly smile, thoughts flashing around in your head. “this doesn’t feel like home anymore. the community is perfect exterior-wise, but deep down everyone’s a little demented. and believe it or not, my life is miserable. my father’s too overbearing, my mom's sick. they have these high expectations of me, like going to college and honoring the family’s name. but, i’m starting to realize it’s not what i want anymore. i’m only doing it to please them. my father legit made me take a year off just to make sure i’m fully prepared for college.”

“has your father always been strict like that?” eren switches with you as more people make way on the floor, facing south now. the star lights hung on the ceiling setting the mood as more love music played.

“since i was a kid, yeah. he’s always had these values he believed we should uphold. ‘keeping’ the families guidance, child’ he would say,” eren watches you chuckle dryly, his jaw clenching. “often times i wonder why my mother married someone like him when she’s the complete opposite. i’m guessing he was different when they were younger. sometimes i think i ruined their love.”

“don’t think that, ꒰♡꒱,” hearing your name come from him made you squeeze his hand tighter, oddly feeling comforted. “whatever problems they have aren’t because of you. they decided to bring you into this world, therefore it’s their job to raise you to be the best you can be. and i think you’re great, and you can think for yourself and do whatever you want with your life.”

“thank you, eren.”

“mhm,” eren searches your face continuously, memorizing every detail of expression. for future notes. “do you think he’s so hard on you because he never got the opportunities you have? or ‘cause, you know, you’re his only girl?” eren asks.

instantly, you nod. “yeah, that’s definitely it. he’s afraid to make a mistake. granted, he’s made a few already. no parent is perfect, but it’d be nice if he’d see me as the adult i am now and not just his baby girl. or perceive me as this sweet little church girl whose only values in life are to please her parents and have awards to hang in the house to boast about when we get visitors.”

“that’s gotta be hard, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i’d also be the first in my family to attend college. i got offered a scholarship to brown, which is why he has me studying till i bleed. figuratively, of course.”

“wow, an ivy league. that’s big.”

“thanks, i’m a genius,” you roll your eyes sarcastically. your hands drop from his neck, entwining your right hand with his left, eren wrapping his arm around your waist as you two dance that way. “your hands are really soft.”

“all that butter i be churnin’,” he cackles. his face grows serious once more, and yet again you’re unable to read him. “listen, so . . i w’na tell you that i really am drawn to you. i like you, ‘n i’d like to get to know you. who knows, maybe one day we can run away together from our lives here, some cliché shit like that.”

“i . . yeah. i really wanna get to know you, too.”

“ooh, you likin’ me?” he flirts.

you can't help but give him a small smile, your cheeks flushing slightly. this lovesick feeling you get around him was something you’d only read about in novels hauled up in your bedroom to escape reality. it felt nice.

"maybe i am. what if i am?"

"i like the sound of that," he replies, his voice a soft murmur just above your ear. "i like it a lot, actually."

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the closeness making your heartbeat quicken. you try to tell yourself that it's just the dance, just the music, that's making you feel this way, but deep down, you know it's more than that. something about eren, something about the way he's looking at you right now, is stirring up feelings you haven't felt before.

“you know," he says, his voice low and intimate, "would it be too early for me to ask to kiss you?”

and that followed up with more forbidden kisses. the two of you tried to see each other four days out of the week, of course, sunday’s being off limits. you’d run to the market for your mother and spend most of your time at eren’s farm feeding the animals and helping him work. making up an excuse when your mother asked why you took so long. the two of you decided it was best to keep your relationship private from both your mother and father until the time was right. there are nights when you would sneak out when your parents were sleeping to make out in the back of his pickup truck under the stars.

play fighting in the lake, writing each other love letters, running into his arms whenever you saw him while he spun you around and held you tight. every moment spent with him felt like a novel. every kiss feels like a risk, every touch like a secret act of rebellion. living a double life pretending to be just friends. the intimacy of stolen moments you share is like a secret language, a bond forged by the very secrecy that threatens to keep you apart. a month into the relationship, eren surprised you with a date at the same ranch where you shared your first dance. decorating the back of his truck with blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks for a drive-in movie casting on the back of the ranch. he made love to you for the first time that night.

pastor kain and most of the god-fearing parents in this town knew that eren had a reputation for being rowdy and a sweet talker with the girls. he’s not necessarily someone they’d see their daughter for. and eren will admit he’s made some poor decisions in life, but that didn’t make up for who he was deep inside. nobody knew him. they only knew the surface level of what was spoken of him and his family. the yeager's. eren practically runs the farm that’s in his mother’s name, working his ass off every day while his father wastes himself in heavy liquor on the living room couch. he could’ve left a long time ago, but his attachment to his mother and what she built refused to let him pull away.

his father made a few public appearances that tarnished their family name further. altercations with good people in town for giving him dirty looks or speaking with ill intent on his son. a father forever, but a horrible dad through and through. his reputation already ruined eren’s. a lot of people assumed he’d be exactly like his father; a drunk, and an abuser. his mother going without peace in a horrible fight between the two causing her heart attack. eren hates that he can’t let him go, having a few nasty fist fights himself. maybe he’s hoping he’d get better one day and be someone. but that was far from what will happen.

eventually, you and eren sneaking around had to end when word got out about it through your father’s church; an older woman calling you a slut and stating that you’ll be no good dealing with a yeager. it’s clear they were truly disliked in this town full of idiots and sinners themselves. ‘holier than thou, up their asses, pretentious dicks!’ is what eren had to say about it. you and your father had one of the worst arguments of your life. a total scream fest when he found out.

eren sat outside in his truck, anxiously bouncing his leg, eventually exiting to pace around on your porch. you come out with tears streaming down your face, eyes red and puffy. eren falls apart, cooing ‘awe, baby’ before embracing you into a tight hug, his strong arms burying your face into the warmth of his chest.

“he just doesn’t understand. i don’t get why he doesn’t understand,” you choke on your sobs, eren brushing a hand down the back of your head, kissing it after.

“let me talk to him,” eren suggests, and instantly you’re disagreeing, backing away and trembling.

“no, eren. i told you, nothing we can say will get through to him. he’s fuckin’ hopeless!”

“kain, stop it!” your mother’s frantic voice could be heard shouting at your father from inside, glass being thrown out of anger.

the blood flows through eren’s veins viscerally, an intense feeling settling within him, bringing back memories of his own mother. the booming voices of his father and items being tossed, knocked down, or torn. without another word, he’s rushing into your home intending to set things straight. you panic, following his lead, unaware of what he is capable of when angry. you’ve never seen him on that level before. you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t put his hands on your parent, and he was respectful to show proper communication.

“eren!” your voice croaks, tailgating him as he approaches your father’s office where the commotion ensues.

“he’s corrupting our child! why can’t you see that?!”

eren stands tall, pulling you behind him protectively as he meets pastor kain’s accusing glare with unwavering determination.

“who told you to step foot into my home, boy?” pastor kain grits, your mother standing idly beside him, pain wretched over her face. your lips begin to tremble, hating seeing her that way. you never wanted this to be the outcome. you just wanted to love this man. why should you be punished for that?

“corrupting her?” eren chooses to ignore his statement and cut to the main issue. “sir, with all due respect, it’s not your decision to say who she can ‘n cannot be with. i have no intent to hurt her, which is exactly what you’re doing right now. we've made choices based on what's best for us, for our future. ‘n while those choices may differ from what you had planned, they are ours to make.”

“and who gave you permission to include yourself into my daughter's plans?” the man snarled, eyeing you as you sob behind eren aggressively. your cries paining eren’s heart. you were too broken to stand up for yourself right now. feeling like you’ve been doing that for your entire existence. it felt safe to have eren handle things for you.

“she did, because she’s an adult and i will marry her whether you give us your blessing or not,” his voice rises, tinged with a hint of defiance. the word marriage drives your father into madness. “i will never apologize for loving your daughter, for wanting to build a life with her. if that makes me a bad decision in your eyes, then so be it. but i refuse to let you dictate the course of our happiness.”

his gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. the tension hung heavy in the air, the weight of their disagreement pressing down upon them. yet amidst the conflict, there was an undercurrent of love and concern, a testament to the complex bond that existed between father and daughter. your father holds a hand to his heart as if it’s torn, strolling around his brown desk to take a seat.

“you’re going to let him speak for you, ꒰♡꒱. speak to me like this? there’s no respect for me anymore?”

your sniffles are loud, removing your face from the middle of eren’s broad back to stand your ground, elevating your head and clutching his hand tighter. “i truly don’t know what else i can say to you, daddy. i’m not fond of the life you have planned for me. i will always be your daughter, but i can’t and will not be this little girl you want to have control over. i am an adult, therefore you have to treat me as such. i no longer want to attend college because of my own decision. it was always your dream, not mine. eren had nothing to do with these transitions. i am allowed to love whomever i please.”

the room falls silent as your parents stare at you, your mother placing her hands over her chest with loving despair. she herself has made multiple attempts to try and change her husband's point of view, but nothing surpasses. eren glances at you, eyes shining with adoration and protectiveness.

“it’s not that i won’t let you live your life. it’s that i don’t approve of who you’re trying to give your life to. what can he do for you?”

eren feels a sense of inferiority. “i may not come from wealth, but i am not a man of indolence. your daughter is a remarkable woman who deserves everything she wishes for. she knows her own mind ‘n heart, ‘n she's chosen me. ‘n i love her for that. i’m not belittling your concerns, but i can not, in good conscience, abandon the woman i love’ needs. we may not fit the mold you've envisioned, but i love her and will continue to whether you disapprove or not. i will provide for her, take care of her. she never has to lift a finger while with me.”

pastor kain’s face contorted in anguish, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world bore down upon him. he looked at you, then at eren, his eyes searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of compromise.

“oh lord, have mercy on us all,” with a heavy sigh, he turned away, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “you’ve made your choice clear, ꒰♡꒱. you’re choosing to leave the only home you've ever known, turnin' your back on the only family you've ever had. and for what? a fleeting romance with a man who can't even provide you with a stable future? someone rowdy with a poor excuse of a father? a flirt who can’t handle his greed for women? you want me to be happy for you? for this? he ain’t good for you, baby girl. and i will stand by that for as long as i breathe.”

that’s when all of you equally realized that no matter what was said, his opinion will remain one sided. admitting defeat as a whole. anything that was said completely flew over his head, and only his view mattered. it’s narcissistic, and bizarre. eren was baffled, in fact.

the waves of pain crash down on you, wishing he would just understand you, and be happy for you. to approve and give his blessings. to tell you that the man you’re in love with is good for you. eren holds you as your body grows weak, almost falling over. it’s clear the effect this had on you, and he fucking hated it.

“i just want you to . . you don’t even k-know him.”

he shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i fear for your soul, my dear.”

i fear for your soul. that haunted your dreams like nothing else ever had. it was by far the vilest thing you’d ever heard your father say to you. it made you cry for days on end. breaking your heart over and over again. weakening since the moment you’d packed your suitcase and said goodbye to your mother. you no longer saw your father as family. giving her a heartfelt embrace and kissing your home goodbye. four months later, your mother passed away. regret ached at you for not seeing her as much after you left with eren. you’d seen her only a few times after the horrible fight, spending the day with her as she gave eren an extreme apology as well as her approval. she prayed you’d forgive your father, to give him grace.

the last time you saw your father was at your mother’s funeral. and the look on his face remained the same towards eren; disgust. you still loved your father a great deal, but the respect no longer resides. you’d comfort him, check on him occasionally, but keep your distance to protect your peace. after your mother received a beautiful burial, you continued your future with eren. marrying in secrecy two months later. in the aftermath of loss, the two of you found solace in each other. amidst the grief and chaos, your love became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there could still be beauty. so, in a quiet ceremony surrounded by close friends, you vowed to spend the rest of your lives together.

as you exchanged rings and sealed your union with a kiss, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. for a moment, nothing else mattered except the love you shared, the future you would build together. a good thing that came out of this was eren’s father getting clean and giving him a letter from his mother he’d kept hidden on his own accord. a title for land she’d purchased just for him to do what he pleased. eren’s father held down the farm while eren decided to build your dream home on the new land. and he stood by his word.

it was hard for eren to forgive his father, but he appreciated that he wanted to be better. it’d never bring his mother back, nor heal the bruises on his heart, but it was something. once he built this home for the two of you, he’d never have to see him again. it seemed like both of you were running away from your father’s. it was scary how somewhat similar your situations were. you became acquainted with his father out of respect, helping with the farm to pass time as eren focused on building the house with his friends. it helped you clear your mind surprisingly, always adoring animals and gardening. it’s something you wanted to do once the house was ready as a hobby.

some days were really hard, grieving not only the death of your mother but the separation from your father. you felt bad for the many nights you cried in eren’s arms about it. luckily he didn’t invalidate your feelings. he constantly reassured you that everything you felt was natural, and he had no problem comforting you on your lowest days. and that if anyone understood the pain of losing a mother, it’d be him. he truly was your angel. who would’ve thought a man you’d met at a market one random day would be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with.

eren spent an entire year and a half building a charming little cottage nestled in a scenic countryside setting out of town, about an hour. it’s a cozy, quaint structure with a warm, homey feeling. the exterior is made of white wood, front adorned by a wrap-around porch, blue shutters, and a few flowers in pots. the windows are large and welcoming, bringing in natural light and a lovely view of the surrounding landscape. he’d built your dream kitchen, tall windows overlooking the garden. a bathroom with a clawfoot tub and double sinks. and a library so you could read and write. he did it all.

you stood beside him, hand resting on the small of his back as you surveyed your new home.

"this is perfect," you whispered, voice filled with emotion as tears well in your eyes. “it’s everything i’ve ever wanted, eren. thank you.”

eren turned to you, his eyes shining with love and pride. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. the scent of your perfume mingled with the earthy aroma of nature filling his senses with comfort.

“i meant what i said, i'd do anything to make you happy,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. he tilts your chin up, gaze locking with yours as he brushes a stray curl behind your ear, the tears falling down your brown cheeks. “you’re the most important thing in my life, and now we get to share this space, these memories, everything. together."

‎‎ 𐦍

a storm is raging outside on the day of your anniversary, and it only raises your anxiety for your husband currently working in this weather. you’d set up the dining area to surprise eren, spending hours in the kitchen to perfect the tastiest meal. you’d always be sure to welcome him home with a good meal after hard labor. talks of the storm have been on a loop, playing on the living room tv repeatedly. one of your worst fears was a natural disaster. for it to possibly happen today of all days felt like a big joke.

you’ve been trying to keep your mind off it, praying for eren’s safety while anxiously nibbling at your cross necklace. you’ve tried to contact him a few times, but gotten no response. assuming he was busy, you left it alone, knowing he’d get back to you as soon as he was available. service was probably terrible out there. within the next moment, as you set the oven to three sixty-five and placed the round cake pan in, the sound of the front door swinging open alerts you. you hear that familiar sound of house keys jangling, and your heart nearly combusts at the realization that your husband made it home.

the oven mitts come off, and immediately you’re bolting towards the living room; a sweet scent of roses wafting up from the extreme wind blowing into the house and the bouquet in his hand. “where you at, baby? i’m home!”

his voice calling out to you makes you giggle, echoing through the warm house. a few seconds later, you emerged from the archway, a smile beaming on your pretty face as you ran into his arms, eren chuckling as he caught you and your legs wrapped around his waist. kissing at his face in relief.

“baby, i was so, so nervous. the storms gettin’ worse by the day. i thought you were stuck somewhere. you weren’t answering your phone ‘n i got so scareddd,” you bury your face in the crook of his tatted neck, nearly sobbing as you clutch him tight.

it’s true, the weather was horrible. trees knocking down, power going out, roads blocked. it happened out of the blue. they’re saying a hurricane is a high possibility. why you’re finding out last minute? who fucking knows. unfortunately, he was on the clock today working at the plant, his highlighted yellow vest adorned on his shoulders as he stepped himself out of his dirty timberlands. luckily they were collectively told to head home early for safety reasons.

“oh, darlin’, i’m alright. my body’s intact,” he kisses your cheek. “i told you to stop watchin’ the news. it makes you more sensitive.”

he sets you down slowly, your bare feet hitting the ground while you pout up at him. your curls were tousled as if you'd just rolled out of bed, but you looked beautiful, breath catching in his throat actually. especially dressed up in this dark red two-piece set. cute ruffled shorts and a skimpy bra accentuating your every curve in a way that left little to the imagination. the swell of your ass, hips, and thickness of your thighs that touch swallows the material salaciously. your skin is smooth, always. scented with dewberries and magnolia.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed, voice low and husky as his hand slips down to grip your ass, spanking you hard as you squeak. “i like this on you. you look pretty.”

“thank you, baby,” your eyes sparkle with affection. “i wanted today to be special. i made dinner and all. but the storm had me shittin’ myself.”

“that’s why i gotcha these before the flower shop closed. well, i ordered ‘em ahead of time ‘n miss valerie let me pick ‘em up,” eren hands you the assortment of flowers in his hand, blooming red roses and cream calla lilies swarmed in black wrapping paper. you take them, adoringly jutting out your lower lip more. “happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“you’re such a sweetie, rennie,” you lay your chin on his chest, leaning into him while looking up at him with puppy eyes. “thank you.”

“mhm hmm,” eren loses focus already, clutching the side of your face before leveling his neck lower to capture your lips in a searing kiss, bottom lip dropping to enclose your mouth with his.

the kiss is slow and filled with passion, eyes shutting in sync as you moan from his taste. he smelt like he’d done hard labor and the musk of his cologne he’d spritzed at six in the morning, but you loved it. every time. your fantasies just get more disgusting as you age. the heavy toolbelt that’s sliding down his hips, the white crewneck, slightly stained with patches of oil almost eating up his muscles, showcasing his tatted right arm and neck. wedding band around his finger as he holds your face to aggressively kiss your smaller frame. he’s forever hot.

the savory aroma of dinner wafted up from the oven, momentarily breaking the spell. with a groan, he reluctantly pulled back, eyes never leaving yours. "i smell food.”

"well, since you've gone through all that trouble, i showed my appreciation properly."

as you drag him towards the dining room, his gaze falls upon the beautifully set table, the flickering candlelight casting a romantic glow across the darkly lit room. confetti littered the surface, a whimsical touch that added to the celebratory atmosphere. a chilled bottle of wine sat in a silver bucket. he watched you slip on your oven mitts to retrieve the food you were keeping warm. eren surveys the spread, the tantalizing aroma of perfectly steamed lobster claws glistened with butter, while the filet mignon looked pink and juicy. his stomach growls with anticipation, only eating the lunch you packed for him earlier in the day containing birria ramen and pork dumplings.

“damn, you always do so well. good job, baby,” he marveled, heart swelling with admiration for your thoughtfulness. his praises making your face heat up. he does it so much you’re not sure if he realizes how it makes you feel. "everything looks so good. let me jus’ shower real quick ‘n we can dig in, yeah?”

“noo,” you protest. eren arches a brow. with a flourish, you poured two glasses, the rich red liquid swirling seductively in the crystal bowls. “love you like this.”

eren cracks a smirk, sucking his teeth in amusement. “you’re so dirty, girl.”

"you like it,” you raise your glass in a silent salute. “come eat. i need you thick.”

“shut it.”

you scream as he hits your ass playfully, sneaking behind you to kiss your cheek while you snort, eren pulling out your chair like a gentleman so you can sit, soon taking his adjacent to you. for the next hour the two of you enjoyed each other's company, laughing in faces, getting tipsy, love bites and sensual touching . . the usual. eren thanked you repeatedly for how good the food was, soothing old-school rnb playing soundly low in the background while he washed the dishes as you spread chocolate icing on the cake you baked. it was a moment of simple domesticity, a glimpse into the everyday life you’d built together. once the last plate was put away, your husband dried his hands and turned to face you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he watched you sip your wine while you spread the icing spatula over the cake, humming to the tune.

slowly, he approaches you, coming behind you and planting kisses along your neck, your hand dropping the spatula while your eyes falter shut. his kisses are filthy, his hands groping you to push your ass back onto the outline of his dick now hard in his jeans for a while. he slowly trails a hand up your throat to clutch, pushing you against the counter nearly bending you over fully.

you moan, rubbing your ass back on him as his hands roam over your body, a wine glass in your hand as you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. you reached beside yourself, fingers trailing lightly down his forearm where his hand slips in between your thighs, groaning on your skin as he rocks his erection against the shape of your ass. a delicate gasp falls from you, setting your wine glass down and hooking your arm behind yourself to hold his head in place.

“c’mere,” eren licks his lips, your skin prickling with heat as he guides you closer to him by your abdomen, spreading your thighs further apart to slot his fingers into your ruffled bloomers.

his teeth nip at your earlobe while he grunts and rolls the pads of his rough fingers against your clit, a cute sound emitting from your mouth. your jaw is agape, eren hissing when you tug at his hair the minute he’s sliding his middle fingers into your pussy, stretching you open as his thumb strums your clit, tugging your bloomers down to your knees with the hook of his thumb. instantly, you’re falling apart. moans breaking out in short whimpers and high gasps, grinding into his palm. eren arches over you, free hand palming the countertop which your hand rests over to grab for leverage, wedding bands touching, his breath heavy on your flushed skin.

"there we go, take it baby,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with desire and encouragement. he leans in to capture your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to mingle with yours.

“babyy,” you’re whimpering, his fingers long and entirely deep inside of you. the loud squelch of your pussy fueling him.

eren’s fingers scissor and curl to hit that perfect spot inside you, your moans growing louder, hips rocking to match his rhythm. the dual stimulation of his fingers fucking you while he thumbs at your clit has your body trembling with anticipation, the wine in both of your systems heightening every feeling. the desperate clench around his fingers only increases his efforts, pumping his fingers faster and applying more pressure to your sensitive bud.

the sudden insistent knocking at the door shattered the intimate mood. you froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes shot open to glance at him, a mix of annoyance and concern etched on his features as you watch his jaw clench. he wants to ignore it, but the worry on your face tells him not to. he’s groaning.

“the hell could that be?" he muttered under his breath, your mind racing with possibilities. it wasn't uncommon for neighbors to stop by, but during a severe storm? you’d think everyone would be hauled up at home.

groaning yourself, you fix yourself up, scrunching your face from the uncomfortable feeling of wetness sticking between your thighs. wanting to stomp in irritation, you go to grab a soapy towelette as eren’s too busy licking you clean off his fingers while shaking your head and wiping his hand.

“do you think it could be the county police? maybe they’re checking to see if everyone’s safe,” you say, going to search for one of eren’s oversized hoodies to toss over your head and cover your body appropriately.

“could be. i heard a few people’s had their power knocked out. i’m hoping we won’t have to evacuate.”

eren takes a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever interruption awaited. with a reluctant sigh, he strode towards the front door once you were ready. as he unlocked it, he made sure to securely have a tight grip on it since the wind was ridiculous out. the last thing the two of you expected was to see a familiar face awaiting, going into shock as you see your father standing on the other side, his gaze sweeping over eren before settling onto you.

“pastor,” eren greeted him curtly, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the annoyance simmering beneath the surface. he steps aside, letting the man inside so he wouldn’t get knocked over by the raging winds. “come in if you must.”

eren shuts the door, standing tall next to you. he’s confused why he’s here, hoping his visit wasn’t a thinly veiled attempt to criticize his relationship with you once again. then again, it’s been three years since he’s personally seen him. of course you kept him in your life, just extremely briefly. you stand beside eren, feeling his tension and bracing yourself for an uncomfortable confrontation. pastor kain’s presence fills the room with an awkward heaviness, and you can almost sense the disapproval radiating off him in palpable waves.

“daddy, what are you doing here?" you ask softly, worry and curiosity inked in your voice.

as pastor kain stepped further into the house, his eyes roamed the space, taking in the evidence of you and your husband’s shared life together. the cozy living room, adorned with photos of you two, hinted at the love and connection you’d built. the faint scent of the dinner you had not long ago, a reminder of the domestic bliss you’d created.

“i was in the neighborhood and wanted to see my daughter. the storm’s really bad, and i got worried. hopefully i'm not interrupting anything.”

your eyes soften, smiling faintly. "thank you for doing that. i’m glad you stopped by. but you should be home. why were you out in this weather?”

“had to drop cherry off at the vet, she ain’t doing too good,” your father frowned, the mention of the dog he’d gotten a while after your mother passed makes you sympathize.

“oh, i’m sorry to hear that. she gon’ be okay?”

“can’t say for sure. she been havin’ a lot of stomach problems, uh . .” he quickly clears his throat as if to cover up his pain. you weakly smile, rubbing his arm.

“hey, no need to explain. i’m prayin’ she’ll be okay. it’s nice to see you, um . . eren and i were just celebrating our anniversary. would you like to join us for dessert?” you gesture towards the kitchen where a decadent chocolate on chocolate cake sits on the counter.

eren watched pastor kain’s expression closely, gauging his reaction to the invitation. when he hesitated, eren couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation.

“sure, why not?" pastor kain replied gruffly, his gaze lingering on the cake before meeting eren’s eyes. "but just a slice, i shouldn't impose."

eren bit back a retort, choosing instead to lead the way to the kitchen. he motions for the two of you to take a seat at the dining table while he cuts a generous portion for each of you. it's silent until he comes back.

“here you go, sir,” eren says, handing him a plate with a warm smile.

“ ‘preciate you.”

eren nods formally, leaning against the counter, observing the interaction between you and your father with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“how’ve you been? i know last time i saw you, you were attending therapy. is that going well?” you ask.

“it’s been . . difficult," pastor kain admitted, his voice cracking slightly as he set his fork down. he rubbed the back of his neck, a sign of discomfort or perhaps guilt. "losing your mother was a blow, and then dealing with your decision to . . leave home. .”

he trailed off, gaze drifting to you before returning to meet eren’s eyes. there was a depth of sorrow in his eyes that he hadn't seen before, and for a moment, eren almost felt sorry for the man. the topic of your mother is still hard for you, eren coming over to sit beside you to entwine his fingers with yours to give you comfort.

“i miss her every day," pastor kain continued, his voice barely above a whisper. your heart aches to hear your father's admission, and you reach out instinctively to lay a comforting hand on his. despite your differences, you know the pain of losing your mother is something you share deeply.

"i miss her too, daddy," you say softly, voice thick with emotion. "every single day. but, she would want us all to be happy, and live life to the fullest. she told me so after . . everything.”

the thought of the altercation makes you all shift uncomfortably, hating that night. “we both care about you very much. i know things haven't always been easy between us, but . . i hope we can find a way to mend those bridges."

“that’s another thing i’ve been discussing with my therapist,” he sighs. “we talk about that night often, and somehow it still stirs something . . awful in me. though time has passed, i still don't approve of you disappearing with this man while giving me the short end of the stick with only minimal check-ins."

that makes eren flinch, feeling a sting of defensiveness rise within him. clenching his jaw, he stares intently at your father. just waiting for him to really try it. at this point in time, he gave no fucks about respect. eren knows you can stand up for yourself, but he won’t hesitate to set him straight.

"leaving wasn't easy for me, you know that, as i’ve said before. i loved mom so much, and i didn't want to abandon you. but i also needed to follow my heart and build a life with someone who accepts me for who i am. you’re still upset about us eloping, alright. but that doesn't mean our love is any less real. i mean, of all days, you really chose to do this today?”

“i’m not saying your love isn’t real,” pastor kain said, his tone softening slightly as he realized he was already upsetting you. it’s something he’s trying to work on. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his gray hair. “i just miss my little girl. the one who used to sit on my lap during sermons, who helped me prepare for sunday mornings. you grew up too fast, baby girl. left me behind. for this man i barely know.”

your heart clenches at the raw emotion in your father's voice, and you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, getting irritated by your sensitivity. his words still sting, a painful reminder of the distance that has grown between you over the years. eren doesn’t appreciate the way he’s making you feel, easily getting triggered.

“forgive me for intruding, but i don’t appreciate the disrespect you have towards me or my wife.” eren budges in, his intervention catching you off guard. you face him with wide eyes, silently urging him to tread carefully. while you appreciate his protectiveness, you don't want him to further alienate your father.

"it’s okay, eren," you murmur, placing a calming hand on his chest. he looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“no, it’s not okay, ꒰♡꒱,” eren stops you. “i've grown tired of being disrespected 'n judged based on your father's misconceptions of me. you don’t know me because you haven’t tried to get to.”

a challenge simmers in the dark depths of his eyes as he stares at your father. “if you truly care about your daughter's happiness, then you should be supporting her choices, not tryin’ to tear them down with your outdated beliefs.”

“with all do respect, eren, she’s still my daughter.”

“actually, no,” eren jumps back in, his jaw clenching, a hint of steel underlying his words. “this is my wife, and this is our house. if you choose not to respect it then you can kindly see yourself outta that door. i don’t understand your mindset when it comes to knockin’ down your daughter's happiness, nor do i understand holdin’ me accountable for shit i did as a stupid kid.”

“that doesn't change the fact that you stole my daughter from me and married her outside of her faith. it goes against everything I've taught her. and you aren't even a christian, it’s not according to god’s plan."

“where is this even coming from?” you scrunch up your face in disgust, eyes piercing at him. “why are you still being like this after all these years?”

“i’m not tryin’ to cause an argument. i talked to god and realized i should come forward with issues that are bothering me, and find solace. and that’s what i’m doin’.”

“by still hurting me?”

“i’ll say it again,” eren cuts back in. “she’s my wife. put aside your religious beliefs and respect that as a man,” eren scoffs. “we may not have married under oath, but it happened. so deal with it.”

“i would respect you a lot more if you gave my daughter the proper marriage with her family. especially after her mother died. maybe i’d forgive all your other sins. this goes against her family’s unity,” pastor kain snarls.

“dad, enough,” your eyes squeeze tight. he’s ruining your day. “this is getting out of hand now. .”

eren pinches the bridge of his nose, ready to swing at this point. "pastor kain, i understand that my past mistakes have given you a reason to doubt me. but i'm not that same reckless kid anymore, clearly. i've worked hard to build this home for us ‘n keep it. everything i’ve done from the moment i met her to now, has been for her. so here’s what’s gon’ happen. you either start respecting your daughter’s choices and accepting me as part of this family, or you can kindly remove yourself from her life. because i won’t tolerate disrespect towards her, especially not in my home.”

as eren speaks, you instinctively reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth and solidity of his touch. pastor kain’s expression remains stoic, but you sense a crack in the armor of his rigid beliefs. perhaps, just perhaps, eren’s sincerity and your own steadfastness are beginning to chip away at the walls of resistance.

“and if you can’t accept me, then maybe it’s time for you to reexamine your own faith and values. because the way you’re treating your daughter, i wouldn’t say it’s christian of you at all. so i implore you, for her sake, let go of your preconceived notions.”

the air goes quiet for a while, eren staring at your father blankly while you gather your thoughts and caress his hand. it doesn’t take long for your father to push back his chair, the wood slightly scraping the floor as he rises up.

“i apologize, to both of you. truly,” he swallows, bowing his head. “i’ve made plenty of mistakes i’m not proud of. the biggest one running my daughter away from home. i am trying to do better, i am. my old habits seep out unexpectedly. i think deep down my blessings were always with you two, i just have selfish tendencies. i am deeply sorry, eren.”

eren isn’t sure if this is a facade, or if the man is being genuine. his lips are pressed into a straight line, nodding once but having no more words. he’d accept it, but the matter of if he was willing to change and show proof remained.

“right,” he smiles weakly. “and i'm sorry to you, ꒰♡꒱. i’ve never meant to hurt you, granted i have many times. i will continue to repent for my sins. and i hope one day you can forgive me. i will let you two enjoy the rest of your day, i'm sorry to intrude.”

pastor kain gives one more smile to you both before turning his back away and heading towards the front door. you’re frozen in your spot, your heart telling you to bring him back because it wasn’t safe.

“we can’t let him go,” you turn to eren, anxiousness written all over your face. “eren, it’s really dangerous out there. what if something happens to him?”

eren sighs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before standing to follow behind him. his hand is on the nozzle of the door before eren’s speaking up, clearing his throat to rid the still pent up animosity.

“you can stay the night. i won’t let you travel in that storm.”

pastor kain breathed in. “no, no. it’s completely fine. i’ve already overstayed my wel—”

“i insist,” eren finalizes, blinking slowly. “꒰♡꒱ will lose her shit if you drivin’ in that. you know she’s terrified of storms.”

a few minutes pass and your father sits on the living room couch with eren making conversation, surprisingly. you can tell your father is trying to get to know him, and being respectful. you zone out for the most part, this day feeling long and getting to you. you decide to fix him a plate of leftover food you had and making everyone hot chocolate to ease the stress. it’s getting extremely late now, almost near midnight and your father grows tired.

“we can take the sofa. you head upstairs and get comfortable,” you smile at your father, eren glaring down at you as you hook your arm with his.

eren’s jaw tightens slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly masks his irritation with a polite smile. he knows it's the right thing to offer your father the bed, despite his own desires to share a more intimate space with you. the house was built specifically for both of your comfortability since the two of you had long decided kids weren’t for you, being satisfied without.

"that’s very kind of you, darlin’," eren says, his voice smooth and measured. “i think your father will appreciate that, huh?”

“mhm hmm,” you nod sheepishly. “there are clean towels and washcloths in the closet by the bathroom. we’ll be down here if you need anything.”

“think i’ll manage, baby girl. thank you.”

your father gives you a sweet hug and a delicate forehead kiss before smiling at eren and giving him a handshake. “thank you.”

“no problem.”

eren sighs deeply once he’s fully upstairs, grumbling, ‘gotta take a piss’ before he’s heading to the second bathroom around the hall. you gather extra blankets from the coat closet, cutting off the lights while snuggling into the pillow soft couch watching adult cartoons. it’s been a hell of a day, and you wanted nothing more than to ignore the horrible weather outside and sleep next to your man. the white noise of the staticky television nearly has you drifting off to sleep, that is until thirty minutes later you’re woken up by eren sliding next to you.

as the two of you settle in for the night, eren pulls you close on the cloud white couch, his strong arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, he whispers softly into your ear, “you alright, sweetheart?”

you can smell the body wash on his skin, his hair pulled back into a bun as he kisses your cheek and hums, bear hugging you. sighing deeply, you nuzzle your face into his neck, trying to block out the raging rain outside that’s stressing you out on top of current events. “i’m okay. today was really a lot. i’m sorry about that.”

eren furrows his brows. “now you know you shouldn’t be apologizing for him. he can’t control himself, n’ that’s not your priority. i meant what i said by protecting you from any n’ everybody that brings you negativity. i’m not with that. he needs to respect you, especially in this house.”

“as well as you,” you bat your lashes up at him, rubbing his chin. “i hate that he talked to you like that. after all this time, i thought he’d change. i knew deep down he still felt some way since he never brings you up when i visit. doesn’t ask me about us . . nothing. i guess it’s a start that he apologized? and made conversation? but to come here saying you w’na check on me, then proceed to disrespect us?”

eren sighs. “unfortunately, you can’t ever fully change a person. i’ll take the apology, but it’s g’na take a lot more than that for me to even consider him a father in law.”

you stare longingly at his face. “i am grateful that you stood your ground and protected us. that’s very attractive.”

eren grins. “you’re my wife, ꒰♡꒱. forever. ima always make sure you come first.”

graciously, you smile, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “thank you, baby. truly. you’ve been the most beautiful, kindest, loving person in my life. i love that you protect me, take care of me, provide and support me. i love you dearly.”

“of course, baby. i love you too,” he replies, smudging his nose against yours. “my sweetheart. you mean everything to me. you saved me.”

“stop,” you frown. “you’re gonna make me cry. yuck.”

eren nudges his knuckles against your chin with a click of his tongue. “cut that. you’re a strong girl.”

you hum, turning your head to look outside the window that faces the garden out back, the rain pouring heavier; clouds completely gray in the midnight. it was terrifying, especially hearing the wind beat against the shutters. you squeeze eren closer to you, your nerves getting to you more, goosebumps on your arms.

“what a helluva anniversary, huh?” eren speaks to distract you, leveling his face over yours to block your view of the outside. you smile at him, knowing he was aware of your fear.

you tsk, rolling your eyes. “man, from this scary ass weather, to my father’s bullshit . . i’m over it.”

“hm, over it? already?”

you pucker your lips questionably. “yeah?”

“it’s not over,” his voice barely becomes a whisper as he leans into you more, lips pressing against yours deeply.

“eren, i really want to, but we can’t. my dad's upstairs,” you giggle, pushing your face away only for him to grab you and pull you closer to his chest, throwing your left leg over his waist.

“i don’t care. fuck me.”

you gasp with a laugh, eyes bulging when you feel his dick hard and heavy on your thigh. “mister yeager, are you naked?”

“had no choice. my drawls upstairs and i ain’t puttin’ the dirty ones back on.”

“only ‘cause you wanna touch my coochie,” you laugh, gasping when his fingers begin tugging at your shorts, ass almost slipping out while the rest of his fingers delicately brush along your clothed clit. “w-wait. what if he hears. that’s g’na be so embarrassing.”

“ain’t he a heavy sleeper?”

“well, yeah, but—”

“guess you’ll have to train yourself to keep quiet,” he smooches your cheek, smacking your ass hard to tease you, and you lose immediately, moaning loud. he chuckles, your thighs parting to welcome him, mouth agape from the warmth his palms bring, igniting your skin. the blood rushes through you as heat encases your face the instant his hand wraps around your throat, bringing your face closer.

"didn’t get to finish touchin’ you earlier,” eren breathes heavily, his nose pressing against your neck as his lips glide to your collarbone. “it pissed me off."

“m-me too,” you whine when his thick tongue aggressively licks at your collarbone, a kiss following suit and continuing all over your neck.

"your pussy felt so good on my fingers," eren's hands massage over your thighs, purposely avoiding where you need him most. fingers swallowing the thickness of your thighs and the plush of your ass, smacking to get another reaction out of you.

"you're teasing," you whimper, rolling your head back while your eyes scroll. “fuck, you know how wet that makes me”.

" ‘fuckin ‘course i do,” his breath hitches again, moving his face to the other side of your neck, your hand gripping his bicep while grinding your hips to inch closer to his fingers. he tastes your skin again, and it’s lewd, and loud. knowing how sensitive you were there, any intimate sound setting you off.

"stop. teasing."

eren’s pulling the blankets back, dragging you to stand up and firmly pressing your backside to his chest, just like the position he had you in earlier. staring down at you, he admires the deep red of the set you wore for him. it complements your brown skin perfectly, drawing attention to the fullness of your breasts and the swell of your hips. your thick, curly hair tumbling down your back in soft waves, framing your heart-shaped face and accentuating your plump, inviting lips. he pulls the bloomers completely off, your painted toes stepping out of them, twitching from any touch he gives you.

“you’re so perfect,” eren whispers, guiding your head back to lie on his chest so you can look up at him, his mouth enclosing around yours to kiss you upside down. his chin holding you still. “you turn me on so bad.”

you bite your lip, looking up at him with hooded eyes as he holds you in place, a strong arm wrapped around you to keep you pinned to his firm chest. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, igniting a fresh spark of desire within you. you can feel his dick pressed against your lower back, evidence of how much he wants you. you shift slightly, grinding yourself subtly back in a silent invitation. your nipples harden under the sheer fabric of the bralette when his hand comes to play with them, straining towards his touch. you part your lips, letting him deepen the kiss as his tongue dances with yours. the taste of you mingles together, a heady aphrodisiac that makes you crave more. you moan softly into his mouth, surrendering yourself completely to the moment and to him.

turning slightly to the side, you detach your lips to spit into your hand, kissing him again as you stroke his dick beside your thigh, his hands embedded into your hips. his dark brows knit, your hand twisting to his liking as he holds your entire face with both hands, groaning low while brushing his lips amongst your own. his teeth go to pull down the strap of your top, latching his mouth onto the skin of your soft tits, jaw widening to suck on the flesh with tenacity.

"can't get over how good this looks on you," eren hums, keeping the other strap on your shoulder for appearance. he spanks your ass again, and you stand up straighter, turning to face him.

“you really like it?” you ask shyly.

his gaze roams over your body with undisguised hunger. “baby, i fuckin’ love it."

it makes your face hotter, slowly twisting in your spot to try to keep your composure. you hated when you felt intimidated by him as if he was some sort of stranger.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he noticed instantly, cupping your chin before kissing you. “show me that bad girl i know.”

a coy smile twitches at your lips, eren urging you to hurry with a hand smoothing onto the top of your head as you lower to your knees. he grips your hair dominantly, forcing you to keep your eyes on his. the sight is undeniably godly. he looks almost worn out, shoulders hunched under the weight of a long day's labor, and the marital instinct inside of you wants to make him feel better. his dark hair is mussed, easily falling from the hair tie wrapped in the follicles. there's a rugged attractiveness to his features; the strong jawline, the piercing gaze, the hint of stubble along his chin, the desire in his eyes. scattered across eren’s right arm and neck is a plethora of dark ink, artistically gothic, straight out of a fantasy novel. none of his tattoos had deep meanings. he liked what he wanted and that was all, using his skin strictly as an artist’s canvas. the only one that meant a lot to him was your name tatted across his wrist.

"tell me to open my mouth."

eren grunts, your sudden lead stirring something within his abdomen. usually, he’s the one telling you what to do. "open your mouth. now."

your lips part, obeying without hesitation. "stick your fingers in."

eren lays two fingers on your soft tongue, slowly stroking until he’s reaching the back of your throat to build up more saliva. you moan in approval, eyes watering but still maintaining eye contact. eren’s brows are knitted, dick hanging from the weight of it. he’s bending forward, spitting on your tongue and prepping your mouth, groaning gravely. you pull your mouth back from his fingers, salvia dripping down your chin.

“you always do that,” he chuckles, the roughness of it making you squeeze your thighs.

“ ‘cause you’re nasty,” you smirk, rolling your eyes. eren playfully does the same. “take my head and put my mouth where you want it."

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” eren comments, gripping your chin to give you a chaste kiss. “talkin’ so pretty.”

he keeps a firm hold on your scalp, curls tangled within his rough hands as he steadily guides you toward his dick, eyeing you darkly, back slightly bent so he can catch the view of your nose touching his stomach. you make sure to keep your eyes attached to his, dying to watch him submerge into ecstasy. he enjoys the control he has over you. you gag around him, and when he whimpers from the sensation, you can't help but grind in your position, the neediness itching at you. trailing your dominant hand between your thighs, you use two of your fingers to spread your lower lips apart to collect your juices before sinking them into your soaked opening.

"oh my god," he notices instantly, choking on a moan as your nails dug into his thigh, moaning around him. he's breathing heavily, your teary eyes the trigger. pressure builds inside him now. he evokes a low growl, and his pace picks up even more, and so do your fingers. shifting your hips quicker. “i’m so proud of you, mama. you doin’ me so fuckin’ good right now.”

eren loses himself in the raw act of claiming your mouth, each brutal thrust forces a corresponding squelch from your stuffed lips, saliva and precum mingling in a lewd display of submission. you continue sucking, your moans vibrating around his shaft as you fuck yourself open for him, juices flowing freely down your thighs. eren's thrusts become more urgent, his grasp on your hair tightening.

“fuck, baby gimme your throat," he whispers, his hips driving forward aggressively. “take it real deep.”

with a deep thrust, eren hits the back of your throat and holds it there, the pressure building at the base of his dick. your eyes water, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold your breath, never breaking eye contact, silently urging him on. your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the sheer size of eren's dick fucking your throat. you gag as he fucks your face steadily with his head tossed back, and through it all, you find yourself getting wetter at the depravity of it all. eren's neediness is arousing, his hips rocking into your mouth with so much lust. you can feel his balls slapping against your chin with each thrust, the sound echoing obscenely in the almost quiet room. the tv luckily drowned out most sounds. suddenly, eren's entire dick pulses and throbs within your throat, hot jets of cum erupting directly onto your tongue. you swallow, like he likes, gulping down every drop as he rides out his orgasm, finally stilling to catch his breath.

“fuck,” he wheezed, hips jerking as he carefully pulls his toned hips back to let you breathe, dick twitching and jumping, still hard and needing more. groaning when you kiss the tip and after, his happy trail. “that felt too good, sweetheart. c’mere.”

eren’s gaze locks onto your face, drinking in the sight of your gratified expression as he picks you up, sitting you on the couch as he lowers his head between your thighs. your knees are hiked up to your chest, your thumb hanging on the corner of your mouth as you stare down at him in bliss. his brain rewires every time he sees her; puffy, warm, and soaking just for him. the anklet you have shimmers as you chew at your thumb and gyrate your hips, waiting for him to touch you with a pleading whine.

he slides two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping pussy, pumping them carefully as he lowers his face to suckle your clit into his mouth. your quiet moans and cries spur him on, your hand going atop his head to guide him as he eats you out. your hips buck against his face, your body trembling beneath him, back arched and toes curled as he devours you. he's relentless, tongue flattening across your clit as he moves his head to apply pressure, lips kissing and swallowing your clit while his fingers twist and fuck into you. you're panting now, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer while your face screws up in pleasure, hating that you couldn’t scream the way you wanted.

"mmm, look at that pussy, baby. look,” eren’s grabbing the back of your neck to connect your forehead with his, forcing your gaze to look at the way his fingers move inside of you, soft tummy molding. “fuckk, she’s so sweet. clenching too tight. give her t’me. make it easy.”

sobbing, you nod your head against his, covering your mouth to muffle your moans as tears well. he curls his fingers just right, hitting that elusive spot far inside that makes your toes curl. grunting, he lowers his face back, burying it into your cunt feeling the scruff of his facial hair creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. he’s opening and encasing his lips around your clit in iterations, sucking and licking hard, spanking your outer thigh while slicking his face up and down, your wetness lewdly known.

“ooo, f-fuckk, ba—by, agh!” the pressure builds, coiling tighter in your belly until you can't hold back anymore. you cry out, fisting at his hair and the fabric of the couch as you roll your hips harder on his mouth.

“you’re making such a mess, girl,” he talks against your pussy, swallowing down every drop you give him. spanking you repetitively, the act and vibration causing your thighs to clamp around his ears as your orgasm crashes over you. pleasure rippling through your body, your juices flooding eren's mouth as he laps at you greedily, prolonging your bliss.

the shivers come from every part of you, your legs, your arms, and the breath on your lips. wanting to cry from how good it felt along with the frustration of not being able to scream. eren comes up to kiss you, muttering ‘go ‘head’ to let you scream into his mouth, grunting and moaning altogether from the intensity. your legs unable to stop shaking. he’s giving you open mouth kisses, your sounds stirring something sinister within his dick as you suck on his tongue, tasting yourself and groping at his waist to bring him closer to you.

“atta girl,” he pecks your lips one more time before pulling you to stand again.

eren turns you around, bending you forward as your thighs press tight together, holding your body up by your forearms pulled back. your upper body hangs, tits threatening to spill from your bralette. eren’s hair is long in his face now, positioning his hips so his dick can slide easily into you without the extra support. a low groan rumbles in his throat when his wish is granted, and you take him full. a ring of white shadowing around his dick with your cream, breathlessly whispering ‘yeah, fuck’ under his breath. feeling his dick makes you whine, shifting your ass back, greedy for more. this feeling never gets old.

“fuck, yes. squeeze me just like that,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward. you gasp from his roughness, tilting your pelvis to take him fully. the tightness making eren blow a raspberry before throwing his head back. “goddamn, mama.”

“p-please,” you beg, moving your ass back as much as you could, not having much power over strength at the moment. “need it, baby. fuck me.”

there was no need for that since he already had the intention of fucking you numb. shifting hips waist, he's rolling into you with ease, your ass clapping back onto his abdomen as he lets out a disgruntled noise that's loud enough to wake the entire house. you squeak, his thrusts rough and steady, fucking you good while keeping you still. heaving, your body falls back into his weakly, having no control over how he wants to use you. thighs adding pressure onto your clit as you mindlessly bounce back on his dick that's splitting you open.

"b-baby. . . too loud," a small panic drawls out, leveling your head to avoid blood rushing to it. eren scoffs, slowing himself momentarily to bring his face by yours.

“i don’t give a fuck, this my house,” he rasps, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your jawline. “do you want me to make you cum or not?”

he assumed you crying was the answer, responding with ‘mhm’ as a ‘that’s what i thought��. his dick twitches inside of you, eren doing his best to keep his composure, but you make it nearly impossible. he's pistoning in and out, watching you coat his dick sweetly, voice laced with lust as you spasm around him and cum unexpectedly. he groans while listening to your cries that ripple brokenly, pounding depravedly as pleasure courses through both your veins.

“it feel good cummin’ on my dick?”

“yess, ‘ren. c-can’t stop cummin’, baby.”

“gimme some more.”

you bite your lip hard to stifle the scream threatening to spill, fingers curling into fists as you fight to maintain restraint. sweat beads on your brow from the exertion of keeping yourself still and silent under his relentless onslaught. the coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, orgasm just out of reach. just when you think you can't hold back any longer, eren shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. now, the head of his dick is kissing that sweet spot within you with every mean, intended stroke. a strangled gasp escapes you unbidden as that warm feeling bursts once more, convulsing helplessly in his hold, muscles clenching wildly around his dick as you struggle to muffle your cries behind clenched teeth. your hand pushes at his waist as a signal for some form of relief, moving your body forward.

“where you goin’,” eren’s yanking you back the moment you try to escape, locking your wrists in his one hand, the other gripping your waist to continue fucking you back onto him.

“erenn,” your voice cracks, your vision blurring from the intensity. a hiccup falls, your head hanging low as he grounds his dick all up in you. you hear yourself squelch, his sharp hips interacting with the softness of your ass that recoils back. your hands struggle in his hold, crying at the deadlock. but it felt so, so damn good. “f-fuck you. oh my god, fuck you, baby.”

eren tongues his inner cheek with a snarky chuckle. “that just makes me w’na fuck you harder.”

the stamina he has gives you a headache sometimes, unknowing of when you end up flat on your stomach lying on the sectional part of the sofa. eren notches the head of his dick between your folds to gather more of your slick before sinking back in, sheathing himself entirely, balls flattening on the curve of your ass. the solid warmth of his body blanketing yours, wrapping his bicep around your neck while he grabs onto the armrest before you two, rolling his hips and dropping his dick into you.

“no one’s ever g’na do the shit i do to you,” he sloppily french kisses behind your ear, voice growing weak, panting heavier.

“mhm mm,” you agree without words, breaking out to follow the rhythm of his hips.

“your so pretty. say it. tell me you're my pretty girl.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes, face flushed, and arousal coiling hot and heavy in your belly, responding greedily to his every action.

"i’m your pretty girl,” you gasp weakly, voice barely audible. your nails dig into the cushion as you writhe helplessly, full with his heavy dick and held immobile by his superior strength. every ruthless drive of his hips forces the air from your lungs, making you feel floaty.

a choked sob escapes him as he sinks everything into you, your fingers clawing frantically at the upholstery. you try to bury your face in the cushions to muffle your noises as he splits you open, each powerful thrust getting a singular sound from you, but eren had other plans. his big hand covers your mouth, continuously french kissing your neck as he grunts by your ear and rambles the filthiest things. your body does what it’s trained to; react. you cry in his palm, pussy fluttering around him as you cum for what seems like the tenth time, squeezing his dick like a vise. trembling violently beneath him and it takes every ounce of self-control he possesses not to let loose the feral growl building in his throat, knowing it would alert your father of your illicit activities. instead, he grits his teeth and redoubles his efforts, fucking into you his hardest to pursue his own release.

“eren,” even in your lightheaded state you begin to worry. his skin clashing obscenely loud with yours makes it hard for you not to scream after every nasty pound. you can feel him in your stomach, eyes rolling back into your skull as your mouth drops open, gasping in fragments.

“shut that shit up, ꒰♡꒱.”

whining pathetically, you let him use you as he pleases simply ‘cause there’s no room for bickering. all coherent thoughts flee, leaving only primal instinct and the desperate need for release. with a muffled grunt, he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside you, his grip on your hip tightening almost painfully as he thrusts out every hot drop, shuddering while grinding against your ass to prolong the sensations.

"holy fuck," his voice cracks, rumbling as he hits your ass again and again.

eren slumps heavily atop you, both of you panting and twitching in the aftermath. he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you're draped across his chest rather than crushed beneath his weight. one large hand strokes lazily up and down your spine as the other tangles in your wild curls, holding you close as he tries to catch his breath.

"you did so well, love," he praises softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and rubbing on you soothingly. "you're a good girl, i love you so much.”

his voice is warm and approving, filled with the kind of affection that makes your heart swell with happiness. in this moment, cocooned in his strong arms and basking in the afterglow, nothing else matters. this anniversary was just one of many. you were worn out, drifting off to sleep without responding, but he knew you felt the same. eren managed to clean you up in your sleep, dressing you with his hoodie again and snuggling under the warm blankets for the rest of the night.

the following morning, you awake to the smell of brewed coffee and pancakes. wiping your eyes and yawning as you make your way towards the brightly lit kitchen, needing to soak in the bath since you can barely walk. finding your father and eren cooking together while listening to the radio broadcasts. it was the most shocking sight seeing them bond. your father flipping buttery flapjacks and your husband fixing the garbage disposal since something got caught in it. your heart blossomed nonetheless, thinking that this is all you wanted all along. this was the best gift.

3K notes · View notes

sleepyhoon · 4 months ago

Text

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen #jake sim smut #jake sim imagine #jake sim scenarios #jake sim hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen x reader #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagine #jake x reader #jake sim x reader

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gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months ago

Note

Can you please please please make the pastor’s daughter x rafe little blurb a longer fic omg and it would be so good if Rafe gets her pregnant and her parents find out and either kick her out so she moves in with him or they make her marry rafe you def don’t have to use my ideas because honestly any way you write this it would be so good ❤️

ℱ𝓊𝒸𝓀ℯ𝒹 𝓊𝓅

a/n: ooo!! Love this sm.🫶🏽

warnings: pregnancy, mostly fluff ig? morning sickness, mentions of hook ups, sort of an arranged marriage?? But they both actually secretly like each other.

lovely div by @/xxbimbobunnyxx !

You felt sick, miserable as you rolled around in your bed. You let out a groan, feeling the bile rise back up into your throat.

You leaned over the bed and grabbed the bowl for what felt like the tenth time this morning.

“Oh, poor thing.” Your dad had sighed, bringing in more medicine for you to down. But nothing had made you feel better.

When you went into the bathroom, it was then that you had realized you were late. You swallowed, a thought popping into your head before you pushed it back down.

You looked over to the window, the window that showed you the balcony of Tannyhill. You spotted a figure on the balcony. You turned back quickly, shaking your head, and turning the sink on, washing your face with the running water.

You sighed heavily, turning back to the window and looking out. A part of you knew what you needed to do. But you hoped that you were wrong.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” You mumbled, looking down at the lines. “F…” the words died in your throat, a sob escaping instead. You held your head in your hands, glancing out the window.

It was a couple hookups. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You walked over to Tannyhill, wiping away any stray tears, the test hanging heavy in your pockets. You raised your fist, rapping on the door.

You heard a voice talking from inside. “Yeah, y- Look, it’s all taken care of, swear.” He murmured. You knocked on the door again, fishing for the test. You held it up, waiting for him.

“I’m fucking coming!” He shouted this time, opening the door, phone held to his ear by his shoulder. His gaze went to your face to your hands, holding something out in front of you.

His eyes widened, mouth going agape.

“L-listen, Barry, I gotta go.” He mumbled, taking the phone from his ear and hanging up, looking at you again.

It took longer to tell your parents. Weeks for you to finally get the courage. Rafe sat next to you, looking down at the ground, arms folded together.

“Let me get this straight, you’ve… been having premarital sex… underneath this roof?” Your father asked, voice raised. You nodded, looking down as well.

“Honey…” your mother spoke, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at you with sympathy.

“I know. I sinned…“

“I didn’t raise you like this.” He was disappointed.

“I know, daddy.” You mumbled, tears falling onto your sock covered feet. Rafe pulled you closer to him, trying his best to comfort you silently, a hand on the small of your back.

He sighed, pausing before speaking again. “You understand… that the church is gonna speak, right? This affects me. Us.”

“I know.” You repeated.

“Unless… unless you got married.” He looked at Rafe. Both of you snapped your heads up to look back at your dad.

“Daddy, what do you mean?” You asked the man.

“I’m sorry?” Rafe asked with raised eyebrows, asking him to repeat.

“Would your dad be opposed to you getting married?” He directed his question to Rafe.

“N-no.” He mumbled. “But, sir…”

“And do you love my daughter?”

Rafe looked down at you, you turning to look at him. Rafe huffed. “We haven’t really… gotten that far yet.” He looked back to your dad, avoiding your gaze.

“Well… You two’ll get married. No one needs to know.”

“Wait, daddy, I- I- I don’t even know how far along I am, how am I supposed to hide it for that long?”

“I’ll arrange everything to be done by next weekend. The church will host it, and I’ll ask for donations and everything.” Your dad spoke, standing up and leaving the living room with your mom.

You swallowed, looking back to Rafe. “Fuck.” He grumbled out, his hands going down his face. He exhaled.

“It’s not all bad… is it?” You asked him quietly.

He looked back down at you. “You’re a… a good girl, I’m a fucked up guy. It’ll never work. I’m gonna mess everything up.”

“Now we can be fucked up together.” You mumbled to him, a chuckle escaping his mouth.

#pastors daughter reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagines #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x reader

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porcelainseashore · 1 year ago

Text

Yes, I know I'm having a religious theme moment, but nothing wrong with that - it's hella good!

I love this little series from @d10nyx, Leon and Reader are so cute together, I'm really rooting for them. Please let her escape her abusive father somehow (I'm on my knees praying as an ex-believer 🙏🙏🙏 it's gotta work right?). That part where Leon helps her with the console controls made me squeal 🥰

Can't wait for for the next chapter!

sneaking out of heaven pt.2

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: parental abuse, religious themes, slight guilt, some fluff n some mean dad stuff :(( leon's a sweetheart, tho <3

a/n: omg a sfw drop from me that's... crazy... um... i'm not sure fluff is my strong suit ngl... was trying something new w this series but uh... yeah there's a reason i'm a smut writer i think lol... smut next chap tho maybe depends on if i make this three or four parts!!

word count: 1.4k words

You've always hated Sundays. It's not God's fault. It wasn't the praying or devotion. It all came from one thing, and one thing alone - your father. The wooden pews made your back ache and your thighs go numb, but he'd never let you miss a day. Broken limb, head cold… it didn't matter. Appearances were everything, so unless you were dead, you had to be there, and you had to be working hard to make the family look good.

You've never felt like you belonged in the Church, not really. Being the Pastor's daughter meant you were constantly under a watchful eye. Everyone knew your every move, and you couldn't afford to mess up. Your mistakes reflected poorly on your father, and your father didn't take kindly to being made to look a fool.

You haven't really felt like you belonged anywhere, not even in your own home.

But you found somewhere to belong now. You feel like you can fully relax and be yourself when you're with Leon. Growing up, you'd always been alone… but now? You spent more time in Leon's bedroom than you spent in your own house.

That's where you find yourself now, sitting cross-legged on his bed as you struggle to figure out how to work an Xbox. He's doing his best to teach you, trying not to laugh at the confusion gracing your features.

“Come on, princess. You can't be serious.” He says with a laugh as you send the camera spinning midway through another gunfight in COD. “Dude - just… just nudge the right stick. If you hold it, of course it's gonna do that.”

“I'm just… ugh, I don't get how you play this.” You huff, your head thumping lightly against the wall as you let it drop backwards. You don't realise Leon is moving until you can feel his warmth, his breath brushing your ear as he leans in.

“Look, lemme help you. I'll aim, and you shoot. Easy.” He whispers in your ear, tilting his head and resting his chin on your shoulder. His hand rests over one of yours on the controller, his thumb guiding the right stick.

You're not even paying attention to the screen anymore - you just hold down the right trigger and hope for the best as your eyes are locked onto Leon's pretty blue ones.

“See, princess? Your first kill.” He says with a grin, and you quickly snap out of your little staring session, your breaths coming out a little heavier than usual.

“Oh… oh, yeah! Cool, um… thank you.” You manage to force out, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

“What's got you all flustered, huh?” He says with a teasing grin - why is he still so close to you? His hand reaches out to touch your cheek and tilt your head gently to face him when you attempt to look away, his thumb brushing your cheekbone lightly. “Is it me?”

You let out a short, nervous laugh, your eyes flickering to the side for a moment. All you can focus on is the heat of his palm, the way his calluses feel against your smooth skin. “You? No, come on. Don't be ridiculous.”

He blinks a few times as he looks at you, and then his grin widens. His eyes practically sparkle with excitement, his gaze flicking over your features. “Aww, it totally is me!”

You open your mouth to deny it, but then he's brushing his lips against your cheek, and you're sure your heart is about to burst. Looks like you'd be meeting God a lot earlier than you thought. Always thought dad would be the one to send you to Heaven.

“You're real pretty, you know that?” He breathes out, then he's leaning forward to kiss you. It's just a peck, but a whine builds up in your throat as he tries to pull away from you. Your lips chase his, and he's laughing again before he leans down to give you another kiss.

Your lips are clumsy as they move with his. Inexperienced. It's not your first kiss(only because the peck was), but your inexperience is clear. Your hands twitch, wanting to explore his body, but you're too scared to touch him. Too much, too fast.

So you settle for kissing him, but you are 90% sure you're about to go into cardiac arrest when his tongue brushes your lower lip. It feels dirty. Brings the same feelings of guilt to the surface that touching yourself does, and the same kind of feeling, too, because slick is building up in your panties, making them stick to your pussy.

Not that you have the courage to do anything about that though. You just shift awkwardly, uncrossing your legs and squeezing your thighs together as his hands slip down to your waist, tugging your body closer to his. His tongue brushes yours, and you try to meet it halfway, only to be a little too eager.

“Feels like you're trying to eat me.” He says with a chuckle as he pulls away, pressing his lips to your jawline. “Slower. A little less tongue. Otherwise, you're doing great.”

His lips are on you again a second later, and his tongue makes another appearance. You try to follow his instructions, your hands finally finding the strength to reach out and touch his arms. Wow. You didn't realise muscles like that were real. He's hard to the touch, making you shudder. Your hands wrap around his biceps almost curiously as you kiss him.

You lose track of time as you make out with him. Neither of you seem to want to pull away, and it's only the sound of his mom's footsteps coming up the stairs that has you both hastily scrambling to the opposite sides of his bed - especially considering she makes him leave his door open when you're there.

She offers to let you stay for dinner, and you really can't refuse. Not if it means more time with her son.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you come home from the Kennedy's house, the kitchen light is on. But it's past 6pm, so the light shouldn't be on. You've always had dinner at the same time every night for your entire life. You feel a sense of unease as you attempt to sneak past the doorway.

“Where do you think you're going?” A harsh voice calls out. Your father. You turn to walk into the kitchen, your head hanging in shame. A strong grip settles on your jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to hurt, but not enough to bruise.

He's smarter than marking you where it's visible.

“Where have you been?” He growls, dragging your face up to meet his eyes. Your mom is upstairs. You know she's awake, because you heard the creaky floorboard in her bedroom as you shut the front door. You also know she won't come downstairs, because she likes to pretend your dad is nice to you.

“The Kennedy's, sir. I didn't mean to come home so late, I… Mrs. Kennedy offered me dinner, and I just… I didn't think it would hurt. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

“Yeah, you're damn right, it won't. Don't you think you're a bit close to that boy?”

Your mind goes to the kiss, and you quickly avert eye contact. “Who? Leon? We're just friends, sir… I…”

“I don't believe that for a second.” He interrupts, his grip dropping from your jaw before he smacks you hard across the face, sending your head jolting to the side as tears spring to your eyes. “Proverbs 19:9.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, speaking up with a shaky voice. “A false witness will not go unpunished, and whoever pours out lies will perish.”

“Good. The boy hasn't knocked all sense out of you. Go to your room. I'm dealing with you tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his threat, and you slowly climb the steps that lead to your room. You don't even bother changing out of your clothes before flopping into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

Your cheek still stings, and you take a few deep breaths to stop yourself from crying. Your father hadn't stopped you from seeing Leon again, but it seemed he wasn't far from it. You'd have to tread carefully. You could sense another one of your father's blow ups building, and you didn't want to be on the receiving end.

Despite everything, as Leon's kiss comes to mind, your lips tug up into a small smile.

#leon is a sweetie pie #he called us princess!#pastor's daughter reader #they are so cute together #rooting for them #fingers crossed 🤞#porcelain fic recs

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aceyalonso · 5 months ago

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god forbid - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: altar server!oscar piastri x pastors daughter!reader

summary : the indulgence in sin wasn't new to y/n, it never has been- but to oscar? he was as pure and innocent as a doe, the thought of sinning never even crossing his mind. but then again, everyone has to sin at one point, right?

warnings/notes : swearing, homoerotic tendencies between alexandra and rebecca, mentions of drinking, smut, sacrilegious themes, unspecified branch of Christianity, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!!), corruption, masturbation, improper use of hairbrush handle (iykwim), praise kink, use of "good boy", oral (m!receiving), edging, overstimulation, manipulation (if you squint)

word count : 18.1k

a/n : a very long and self indulgent fic HAHAHAH (please let me know if i missed any warnings, i lost count while writing)

main masterlist | 1k masterlist | taglist form

Y/n took a deep breath, steadying herself before stepping up to the altar. The church was filled with the familiar faces of her congregation, including her best friend Alexandra who had just finished delivering the first reading. Y/n smoothed her skirt and adjusted the microphone, her eyes scanning the pews until they landed on her father, the pastor, watching her intently from his seat.

She cleared her throat and began, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."

As Y/n continued to read, her mind began to wander despite her best efforts to focus. Thoughts of her secret rebellious side crept in unbidden - the parties she snuck out to on the weekends, the alcohol she experimented with, the boys she flirted with behind her father's back. A thrill ran through her at the riskiness of it all, even as a twinge of guilt pricked at her conscience.

Y/n's eyes met Oscar's as she continued reading, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing intently on the words in front of her. Oscar, with his innocent eyes and pure heart, was everything Y/n wasn't. He never drank, never smoked, never even looked at a girl the wrong way. Her father adored him, always going on about what a fine young man he was, how he might even make a good pastor someday.

God, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew she should be happy for Oscar, proud of his devotion and goodness. But instead, it made her feel even more like a fraud. Like she was just playing a part, pretending to be the perfect pastor's daughter while hiding her true, sinful self.

She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as she struggled to concentrate on the reading. Her eyes darted to Alexandra, who sat primly in the pew, the picture of innocence. But Y/n knew better. She knew about the wild parties they attended together, the boys they flirted with and sometimes took home. The way they would pass a guy back and forth, tossing him aside when they grew bored.

It was thrilling and exhilarating, a rush of power and control that Y/n craved. But here, in the church, surrounded by the pious faces of her congregation, it felt dirty. Shameful. She imagined what her father would think if he knew the truth about his precious daughter, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

Y/n swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on the words in front of her. She couldn't let anyone see the turmoil raging inside her. She had to keep up appearances, no matter the cost. Even if it meant burying her true self deeper and deeper until she hardly recognized who she was anymore.

She hurried through the final verse, her voice wavering slightly as she rushed to finish. "But each one is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desires. Then when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death."

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of her own hypocrisy. Y/n stepped back from the lectern, her legs shaky beneath her. She glanced at her father, hoping he hadn't noticed her momentary lapse. But his eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene and untroubled.

As Y/n made her way back to her seat, she caught Oscar's eye once more. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, his faith in her unwavering. Y/n felt a pang of guilt, knowing she didn't deserve his trust. She slid into the pew beside Alexandra, who leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Nice job, girl. You almost had me worried there for a second." Alexandra giggled, her breath hot against Y/n's cheek.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her lips brushing against her friend's ear as she whispered, "Why the fuck is this the Bible verse chosen for today? It's making me feel so guilty."

Alexandra smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "You didn't feel guilty making out with that guy last night," she purred, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Or when you downed like, five shots in a row. Live a little, Y/n. God knows you deserve to let loose sometimes."

Y/n bit her lip, torn between her desire for freedom and the crushing weight of expectation. She knew Alexandra was right - she had spent the night before tangled in a stranger's arms, lost in a haze of alcohol and lust. But here, in the sanctity of the church, it all felt so wrong.

They turned their attention to the altar, watching as the altar servers busied themselves with the communion preparations. Oscar was among them, his movements precise and reverent.

Alexandra leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, did you even remember that guy's name? The one you were making out with last night?"

Y/n furrowed her brow, trying to recall the hazy details of the previous evening. "It started with an F, I think. Frank? Franco?" She shrugged, the names blurring together in her mind.

Alexandra giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Typical Y/n. Always leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty beds wherever you go."

Y/n poked Alexandra in the side, eliciting a small "ow" from her friend. "Hey, don't forget, you aren't that innocent either, you know," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I saw you making out with Rebecca last night."

Rebecca was a member of their church choir, known for her sweet voice and demure demeanor. The thought of her locked in a passionate embrace with Alexandra sent a thrill down Y/n's spine.

Alexandra shrugged, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Rebecca just wanted to try on my new lip gloss. You know how curious she is about makeup."

Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, and I'm sure that's all it was. Just two innocent girls experimenting with cosmetics."

The two girls stood to join the congregation in singing the hymn. As the familiar melody filled the air, Y/n noticed Alexandra's gaze locking with Rebecca's across the church. The two exchanged heated looks, a silent conversation passing between them that spoke volumes.

Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her breath tickling her friend's ear. "Save the eye-fucking for outside of church, will you?" she whispered, a playful edge to her tone.

Alexandra shot Y/n a quick, apologetic smile before turning her attention back to the hymnal. But her eyes kept straying to Rebecca, a flush creeping up her neck.

As the hymn continued, Y/n found her own gaze drifting towards Oscar. She couldn't help it. There was something about him, something pure and untainted that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was the way her father spoke so highly of him, always going on about what a fine young man he was. Or maybe it was the way Oscar's innocence seemed to shine through in every action, every gesture. An innocence that Y/n suddenly found herself wanting to corrupt.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. What was she thinking? Oscar was off-limits. He was practically family, for God's sake. And yet, the more she tried to push the idea away, the more it took root in her mind.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched Oscar from beneath her lashes. What would it be like, she wondered, to be the one to introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh? To watch that innocent face contort in ecstasy as she guided him through his first forbidden experiences?

She continued to sing along halfheartedly, her mind wandering as she imagined how Oscar would sound. Would he moan her name softly, breathlessly? Or would he cry out in ecstasy, his voice echoing off the church walls? She pictured him flushed and panting, his body glistening with sweat as he reached his peak.

The vivid fantasy caused a shiver to run down Y/n's spine, and she had to bite back a moan of her own. She was so lost in her lustful thoughts that she barely registered her father's voice booming through the church, calling the congregation to sit down.

Y/n settled into her seat, her eyes immediately seeking out Oscar. He was standing near the altar, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to her father begin the sermon. She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together as she tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs.

"Calm down," Alexandra hissed, giving Y/n a pointed look. "Your dad's starting his sermon."

Y/n nodded, trying to focus on her father's words even as her mind raced with thoughts of Oscar.

"Temptation is a powerful force," her father intoned, his voice ringing out through the church. "It can lead us astray, cause us to stumble and fall. But we must resist, my children. We must hold fast to our faith, even in the face of the greatest temptations."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her father's words hitting a little too close to home. She knew she should be paying attention, should be taking his message to heart. But all she could think about was the way Oscar's lips might feel against her skin, the way his hands might explore her body.

"Temptation comes in many forms," her father continued, his voice booming through the church. "It can be the lure of wealth, the promise of power, or the allure of the flesh. But we must be vigilant, my children. We must guard our hearts and our minds against the wiles of the devil."

Y/n reached into her small purse, fishing out a piece of candy she always kept on hand for long sermons. She and Alexandra often found their blood sugar dropping during the lengthy services, making it hard to concentrate on her father's words.

She unwrapped the candy slowly, trying to be discreet as she popped it into her mouth. The sweet flavor burst on her tongue, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. But even as she focused on the sermon, her mind kept wandering back to Oscar.

"Temptation can come from the most unexpected places," her father said, his voice rising with passion. "Even those we trust, those we love, can lead us astray if we are not careful. We must be on guard at all times, my children. We must be ready to resist temptation whenever it rears its ugly head."

Y/n shifted in her seat, her thighs clenching together as she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. She knew her father was right. Temptation could come from anywhere, even from someone as innocent and pure as Oscar. But that didn't make it any easier to resist.

She felt a jolt of electricity run through her as her father mentioned her name and the Bible verse she had read earlier. She glanced over at Oscar, catching his eye. He smiled at her, his expression warm and friendly, but Y/n couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if that smile was directed at her in a more intimate setting.

"My daughter Y/n read from the book of James earlier," her father continued, his voice ringing out through the church. "She spoke of the dangers of temptation, of how it can lead us astray if we are not careful. Let us all take heed of her words, my children. Let us all strive to resist the temptations that may come our way."

Y/n squirmed in her seat, her mind racing with forbidden thoughts. If anything, hearing her father speak about temptation only made it easier for her to imagine giving in to her desires with Oscar. She pictured him bending her over the altar, his hands roaming her body as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

She found herself zoning out, her foot bouncing restlessly on the floor as she struggled to focus on her father's sermon. She couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar was staring at her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was as if he could read her mind, as if he knew exactly what kind of filthy thoughts were running through her head.

But instead of disgust or judgment, Y/n saw a flicker of something else in Oscar's eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like desire. Could it be that he wanted her too? That he was just as tempted by her as she was by him?

The thought sent a thrill of excitement through Y/n's body, even as a small voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful. She knew she was playing with fire, entertaining such forbidden fantasies. But the temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n tore her gaze away from Oscar, closing her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She could feel Alexandra's concerned gaze boring into her, and she knew she needed to say something to appease her friend.

"I have a stomachache," Y/n mumbled, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. She knew damn well that it was everything but a stomachache that was causing her distress. It was the throbbing ache between her legs, the desperate need for release that consumed her thoughts.

Alexandra frowned, leaning in closer to whisper in Y/n's ear. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Y/n forced a weak smile, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. Just need some fresh air."

She stood abruptly, ignoring the surprised looks from those around her as she made her way towards the exit. She needed to get out of there and clear her head before she did something she would regret. But even as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar's eyes were still on her.

Y/n slipped out into the garden near the chapel, desperate for some fresh air and a moment to collect herself. She could still hear her father's voice droning on from inside, his words washing over her in a distant, muffled blur.

She sank down onto a nearby bench, her head spinning as she tried to catch her breath. The scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils, but even that couldn't distract her from the persistent ache between her legs.

Y/n tuned back in to the sermon every now and then, her father's voice rising and falling as he spoke of the dangers of temptation. But his words seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.

She felt lightheaded, dizzy with a heady mix of shame and desire. She knew she shouldn't be having these thoughts, especially not about Oscar. But she couldn't help it. The temptation was just too strong to resist.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she sat alone in the garden. The rest of the Mass passed by in a blur, her father's voice fading into the background as she struggled to calm her racing thoughts.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves overhead. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her nostrils, a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

But even as she tried to find peace in the tranquil surroundings, Y/n couldn't shake the image of Oscar from her mind. His innocent face, his kind eyes, the way his lips curved into that perfect smile. It was enough to drive her mad with desire.

Y/n shifted on the bench, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

As the Mass ended, Y/n heard footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to see her father, still dressed in his pastoral attire, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Y/n, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. "I saw you slip out during the sermon. Is everything okay?"

Y/n forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside her. "I'm fine, Dad. It was just really hot in there, and I wasn't feeling too well. Stomachache."

Her father nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well, if you're not feeling better, why don't you head home and rest? I can finish up here."

Y/n shook her head, determined to stay and make amends for her absence during the sermon. "No, I'm okay. I just need to pray the rosary, to make up for the time I missed."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright, but if you start feeling worse, don't hesitate to come home and rest. Alexandra has your purse, so you can swing by their place to pick it up on your way."

Y/n thanked her father, watching as he turned to greet the other parishioners. She knew she should head inside and pray, should try to cleanse her mind of the impure thoughts that plagued her. But as she stood up from the bench, she couldn't help but glance towards the church, wondering if Oscar was still inside.

With a sigh, Y/n made her way toward the church entrance, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She knew it wouldn't be easy to resist temptation, especially with Oscar so close by. But she had to try, had to prove to herself and to God that she was stronger than her baser instincts.

Y/n made her way to the front pew, the chapel eerily quiet save for the occasional chirp of a bird that had snuck in through the open windows. She knelt down on the cushioned kneeler, the cool stone of the church floor pressing against her knees.

She began to pray the rosary, her fingers moving mechanically over the beads as she recited the familiar prayers. But even as she tried to focus on the words, her mind kept wandering, her thoughts straying to Oscar.

She pictured him kneeling in front of her, his head buried between her thighs as he devoured her with his mouth. She could almost feel his tongue lapping at her most sensitive parts, could almost hear the sounds of his pleasure as he discovered the taste of her.

Y/n bit her lip, stifling a moan as the fantasy played out in her mind. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was defiling the sacred space with her impure thoughts. But she couldn't stop, couldn't tear her mind away from the image of Oscar worshipping her body like it was the Holy Grail.

Y/n prayed harder, her whispers turning into full-voiced recitations as she tried to drown out the sinful images flooding her mind. But it was no use. The more she tried to focus on her prayers, the more vivid the fantasies became.

In her mind's eye, she saw herself and Oscar tangled together in the bell tower, their bodies moving in a frenzied rhythm as the church bells tolled overhead. She imagined him bending her over the altar, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her again and again.

And then there was the confession booth, the small, dark space where sins were laid bare. In Y/n's twisted imagination, she was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around Oscar's hard length as he groaned in pleasure.

The images were so real, so vivid, that Y/n could almost feel the phantom sensations on her skin. She squirmed on the kneeler, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there.

Tears began to well up in Y/n's eyes as the guilt of her lustful thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt so ashamed, so dirty, so utterly consumed by a sin that she knew was wrong on every level.

But even as the tears spilled down her cheeks, Y/n couldn't deny the truth of her desires. She wanted Oscar, craved him with every fiber of her being. The thought of his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, was enough to drive her mad with need.

Y/n bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tried to pray for forgiveness. But the words caught in her throat, choked off by the intensity of her longing.

She knew she was damned, knew that she was straying further and further from the path of righteousness with every passing moment. But she couldn't seem to stop, couldn't seem to find the strength to resist the temptation that called to her so loudly.

As Y/n finished her prayers, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to compose herself. But just as she was about to stand up and leave, she heard a noise coming from behind the altar.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she peered around the edge of the altar cloth to see what was going on. There, in the dim light of the sacristy, she saw Oscar emerging from the changing room.

He was in the process of taking off his robe, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, her eyes tracing the path of his happy trail as it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

Oscar seemed oblivious to her presence, humming softly to himself as he hung up his robe and adjusted his shirt. Y/n felt like she should look away, should give him some privacy. But she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from his body, mesmerized by the sight of him.

He emerged from the sacristy, his eyes lighting up when he spotted Y/n kneeling in the front pew. "Hello Y/n!" he greeted her warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Are you okay? I saw you walk out during the sermon earlier. Everything alright?"

She quickly wiped away any remaining tears, trying to compose herself. "Y-yes, I'm fine," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught off guard. "I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

Oscar nodded understandingly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to gather his things. Y/n's eyes couldn't help but trace the contours of his body as he moved, the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his pants clung to his muscular thighs.

She felt a familiar heat building between her legs, a desperate ache that demanded to be satisfied. It took every ounce of willpower for Y/n to tear her eyes away from Oscar's form, to focus instead on the crucifix hanging above the altar.

Oscar gathered his things, glancing over at Y/n with a curious expression. "What are you still doing here, by the way?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I've been cleaning in the back for about thirty minutes now. Shouldn't you be at home resting by this point?"

Y/n felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing just how long she had been sitting there, lost in her own twisted fantasies. "I...I was just praying," she mumbled, her eyes downcast. "Trying to make up for leaving the sermon early."

He nodded, his smile softening into a look of understanding. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a little extra time with God." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But don't forget to take care of yourself too, Y/n. God wants us to be healthy and happy, not run ourselves into the ground."

Y/n smiled at Oscar, grateful for his concern. "Thank you, Oscar. That means a lot." She stood up from the pew, smoothing out her skirt as she prepared to leave.

"I should probably head over to Alexandra's to pick up my purse," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "I'll see you around?"

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he returned her smile. "Sounds good, Y/n. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon."

Y/n turned to leave, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked down the aisle of the empty church. She could still feel Oscar's gaze on her back, could still picture the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the images from her mind. She had to focus, had to get to Alexandra's house, and retrieve her purse before her thoughts spiraled out of control again.

Y/n made her way to Alexandra's house, the short walk doing little to clear her head. As she approached the front door, she heard the unmistakable sound of giggling coming from upstairs. Curious, she crept up the stairs, following the noise to Alexandra's bedroom.

Peeking through the crack in the door, Y/n's eyes widened at the sight before her. There, on Alexandra's bed, were Alex and Rebecca, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

Y/n knocked on the door, a teasing lilt to her voice as she called out, "Excuse me, guys, but I need to know where my purse is?"

Alexandra jumped, breaking away from Rebecca with a startled yelp. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep red. "I...um...your purse is on the dresser."

Y/n laughed, pushing open the door fully. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just figured you might need a reminder that you brought my purse with you."

Rebecca laughed, waving hello to Y/n. "Hey there!"

Alexandra turned to Y/n, her expression softening with concern. "Why did you leave the service early? Are you feeling okay?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "I just needed some air, that's all. It was getting a bit stuffy in there."

Alexandra nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in Y/n's appearance. "Are you sure that's all? You look a little...flushed."

Y/n laughed, gesturing to the scene before her. "Oh please, look who's talking. You're the one kneeling on the bed beside Rebecca like you're all innocent."

Alexandra's blush deepened, but she grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged. But hey, you caught us. Might as well join in, right?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "I'll pass, thanks. You two have fun, though. I'll let myself out and lock the front door on my way."

"Okay, your loss," Alexandra said with a shrug, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before Y/n could even respond, Alexandra leaned back down and captured Rebecca's lips in a kiss yet again.

As she made her way back to her own house, Y/n's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was disgusted with herself for indulging in such sinful thoughts. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny the intense arousal that coursed through her veins, the desperate need to be touched and desired.

By the time she reached her front door, Y/n was practically panting with desire. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Once she was alone, Y/n leaned against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

Y/n walked over to the fridge, her mind still reeling from the erotic scene she had just witnessed. She reached for the handle, intending to grab a cold drink to cool herself down, when something caught her eye.

There, stuck to the fridge with a magnet, was a note from her father. "Sorry sweetheart, I won't be back till Wednesday," it read. "I just got a call - there's an emergency meeting for all the pastors in the city. Text me if you finish reading this."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. With her father gone, there would be no one to keep her in check, no one to stop her from indulging in her darkest desires.

Her mind immediately wandered back to Oscar, to the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs, to the tantalizing glimpse of his happy trail. Y/n bit her lip, her body aching with need.

Y/n quickly pulled out her phone and texted her father, letting him know she was home safe. Once that was done, she headed to her room, her mind already racing with thoughts of Oscar.

Inside her bedroom, Y/n stripped off her church clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. She rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of soft, worn-in shorts and a loose tank top. The clothes were comfortable, but they also left little to the imagination, hugging her curves in all the right places.

As she changed, Y/n couldn't help but imagine Oscar's reaction if he saw her like this. Would his eyes darken with desire? Would he reach out and touch her, his hands exploring every inch of her body?

Y/n shivered at the thought, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. She knew she should stop these thoughts, should focus on something else. But it was too late. The seed had been planted, and now all she could think about was Oscar, and the way he made her feel.

She laid back on her bed, her gaze drifting over the photos that adorned her walls. There were pictures of her and her father, smiling and laughing together at various events and outings. There were photos of her and Alexandra, capturing their close friendship over the years. Scattered among them were snapshots from her childhood, reminding her of simpler times.

But even as she looked at these cherished memories, Y/n's mind kept drifting back to Oscar. She couldn't shake the image of him from her head, couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her in the church, the way his presence had made her feel.

Y/n sat up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She couldn't fight this attraction anymore, couldn't deny the desire that burned within her.

Y/n locked her bedroom door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence of the house. She sat down on her bed, her heart racing as she debated with herself.

She had touched herself before, of course. It was a natural part of growing up, of exploring her own body and desires. But this time felt different. This time, the object of her fantasies was someone so pure, so innocent.

Oscar was a man of God, a symbol of everything that was good and holy in the world. And yet, here she was, imagining him in the most sinful of ways.

Y/n's hand drifted down to the waistband of her shorts, hesitating for a moment before slipping beneath the fabric. She could feel the heat of her own arousal, the slick wetness that coated her fingers.

She closed her eyes, picturing Oscar's face as she began to stroke herself. In her mind, he was kneeling before her, his hands caressing her thighs as he worshipped her body with his mouth.

Y/n's fingers dipped in and out of her slick folds, barely breaching the entrance to her aching core. She was teasing herself, drawing out the pleasure as she lost herself in her fantasies.

In her mind, Oscar's inexperienced tongue was exploring her most intimate places, his soft lips and gentle touches driving her wild with desire. She imagined herself guiding his head, praising him for doing such a good job, for making her feel so incredibly good.

And then, in her fantasy, Oscar looked up at her with those innocent eyes, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "Am I doing it correctly, Y/n? Is this what you want?"

Y/n's hips bucked at the thought, a soft moan escaping her lips as she plunged her fingers deeper into her dripping sex. All it would take was a few more strokes, a few more whispered words of encouragement from her imaginary Oscar.

In Y/n's vivid imagination, her hand wrapped around Oscar's throbbing cock, stroking him with a slow, sensual rhythm. She could feel how sensitive he was, how every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

As she worked him closer and closer to the edge, Oscar began to buck his hips, thrusting into her hand with desperate need. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, his breath hot against her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Y/n held his hand tightly, her fingers intertwined with his as she brought him to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel his heart racing, could sense the intensity of his desire as he clung to her, his body trembling with the force of his impending release.

With a final, firm stroke, Y/n pushed Oscar over the edge, his cock pulsing in her hand as he came with a low, guttural moan. She held him close, whispering words of comfort and encouragement as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cum spilling over her fingers in hot, sticky ropes.

Y/n's fantasy had brought her to the brink of orgasm, but it wasn't quite enough to push her over the edge. She stopped, her pussy pulsing with neediness as she took a moment to catch her breath.

After a few seconds, Y/n reached for her hairbrush, a makeshift dildo she had been using for months out of necessity. She couldn't risk her father finding a real sex toy in her possession, so she had learned to make do with whatever she could find.

The handle of the brush was smooth and hard, the perfect size to fill her aching void. Y/n slipped it inside her, a gasp escaping her lips as it stretched her tight walls.

She began to thrust the brush in and out of her dripping sex, her hips rocking in time with the movements of her hand. In her mind, it was Oscar's cock that was filling her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her with wild abandon.

As Y/n continued to fuck herself with the hairbrush handle, her mind was flooded with the same forbidden fantasies that had troubled her as she recited the rosary. She pictured herself bent over the altar, her dress hiked up around her waist as Oscar took her from behind. She imagined the cool marble against her skin, the weight of his body pressing her down as he claimed her with his cock.

In another scenario, she saw herself in the bell tower, the heavy ropes of the bells swaying above her as Oscar lifted her onto his lap. She could feel the rough wood of the floorboards digging into her knees as she rode him, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.

But it was the confession booth that really set her imagination ablaze. She pictured herself on her knees, her head hidden behind the screen as Oscar stood before her, his cock hard and ready. She would take him into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around his girth as she worshipped him with her tongue.

Y/n knew that every corner of the chapel was adorned with images and symbols of God - crucifixes, paintings of Jesus, statues of angels and saints. But as she fucked herself with the hairbrush handle, lost in her forbidden fantasies, she couldn't bring herself to care.

The thought of God watching her, of Him bearing witness to her sinful desires, only heightened her arousal. She could almost feel His disapproving gaze upon her, could imagine the shame and guilt that would surely follow if she ever acted on her fantasies and gave in to lust with Oscar.

But fuck, it felt so good. The taboo nature of it all, the knowledge that she was defiling a sacred space with her carnal thoughts, only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Y/n's hips moved faster, the hairbrush handle slamming into her G-spot with each thrust. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her rapidly approaching orgasm.

As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing with the force of her release, she cried out in ecstasy. "God, fuck! Fuck, fuck, so good!"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her vision blurring as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. And in that moment, as her mind was lost in a haze of lust and sin, she swore she saw a figure standing before her.

It was God Himself, His face twisted in a mixture of anger and disappointment. He reached out to her, His hand hovering just inches from her flushed skin, as if He wanted to strike her down for her transgressions.

But Y/n was too far gone to care. She was lost in the throes of her climax, her body shaking and twitching as she came harder than she ever had before. The image of God faded away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left her breathless and spent.

Y/n collapsed back onto her bed, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Slowly, she withdrew the hairbrush handle from her dripping pussy, a low whimper escaping her lips as she felt the sudden emptiness.

She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to process the overwhelming emotions that coursed through her. Shame, guilt, and a lingering sense of arousal all battled for dominance in her mind.

As the haze of lust began to clear, Y/n's thoughts turned once again to the forbidden nature of her fantasies. She knew that what she had done was wrong, that her desires were sinful and unholy. But she couldn't deny the intensity of her feelings, the way her body had responded to the mere thought of Oscar.

With a sigh, Y/n sat up and tossed the hairbrush aside, wiping the sticky evidence of her pleasure from her thighs. She knew she needed to put these thoughts out of her mind, to focus on being a good daughter and a devout follower of God.

As the post-orgasmic haze lifted, a wave of embarrassment and shame washed over Y/n. She glanced around her room, suddenly hyper-aware of the sacred objects that surrounded her. Her eyes landed on the small statue of the Virgin Mary that sat on a tiny altar in the corner, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Quickly, Y/n pulled her shorts back on, trying to cover herself as if the statue could see through her clothes and judge her for what she had just done. She avoided looking at the altar, afraid of what she might see in Mary's serene, knowing eyes.

Y/n's mind raced with thoughts of repentance and atonement. She knew she needed to pray, to ask for forgiveness for her sinful actions. But even as she thought about kneeling before the altar and confessing her sins, a small part of her rebelled against the idea.

Y/n stumbled into the bathroom, her legs still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm. She turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her face, hoping to wash away the lingering flush of arousal from her cheeks.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that no amount of water could cleanse her of the sins she had just committed. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her expression a mix of shame and lingering desire.

She grabbed a washcloth and wiped between her legs, trying to remove any evidence of her self-pleasure. But even as she scrubbed, she knew it was futile. The stain of her sin ran deeper than any soap or water could reach.

Y/n's mind wandered back to the statue of the Virgin Mary in her room, and she felt a pang of guilt. She knew she should be praying, should be asking for forgiveness, and vowing to do better. But the thought of facing Mary, of confessing her sins to the mother of God herself, filled her with dread.

She emerged from the bathroom, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She made her way to the kitchen, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her sinful thoughts.

She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cool water from the tap, taking a long sip to calm her nerves. The liquid soothed her parched throat, but did little to quench the thirst that still burned within her.

Y/n hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling as she sat perched on the cool granite. It was a habit her father had always playfully scolded her for, but in his absence, she found herself craving the rebellious thrill of it.

As she swung her legs back and forth, Y/n's mind drifted once again to Oscar. She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her too. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore the renewed ache between her legs.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she heard the unexpected knock at the door. She quickly composed herself and made her way over, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her clothes before opening it.

To her surprise, she found Alexandra standing there, her back turned as she waved goodbye to Rebecca, who was walking away down the path. Y/n blinked in confusion, wondering what her best friend was doing here so suddenly.

"Alexandra? What are you doing here?" Y/n asked, her voice still slightly breathless from her earlier activities.

Alexandra turned around, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she took in Y/n's flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. "I thought I'd come over and keep you company while your dad makes breakfast," she said, her tone playful and suggestive. "Plus, I figured you could use some girl talk after the way you were eye fucking one of the altar boys earlier."

Y/n let out an exasperated groan, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red as Alexandra's words confirmed her suspicions. Of course her best friend had noticed her shameless ogling of Oscar. There was no hiding anything from Alexandra.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Y/n muttered, stepping aside to let Alexandra enter the house. "Was I actually that obvious? I must have looked like such a creep."

Alexandra laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she brushed past Y/n and made her way into the living room. "Oh please, you weren't that bad. Besides, I'm sure he didn't mind the attention. He seemed pretty smitten with you too."

As she spoke, Alexandra called out in a loud, sing-song voice, "Good morning, Mr. L/n! Wherever you are!"

Y/n shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, Dad's not home. He had to leave for an emergency meeting or something."

Alexandra raised an eyebrow, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air. "Huh, that explains why I don't smell any food. Your dad usually has something cooking by now after Mass."

Y/n nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at the realization. Her father's absence always left a void in the house, a sense of incompleteness that she couldn't quite shake.

"Yeah, I'll have to fend for myself until Wednesday," she sighed, leading Alexandra towards the kitchen. "Want some cereal or something? It's not exactly gourmet, but it'll have to do."

Alexandra shrugged, a playful smirk on her face as she followed Y/n into the kitchen. "Sure, cereal sounds great. It's better than nothing at all."

As they rummaged through the cupboards for bowls and spoons, Alexandra couldn't help but notice the lingering tension in the air. She knew Y/n well enough to sense when something was bothering her, and the way her friend had been acting lately was definitely out of the ordinary.

"So, you wanna talk about it?" Alexandra asked softly, pouring milk into her bowl of cereal. "I know something's been on your mind lately. You've been distracted, and I'm worried about you."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the box of cereal. She knew she could trust Alexandra, but the thought of voicing her forbidden desires out loud made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Alexandra's eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," she reassured her, her voice gentle and encouraging. "There's nothing you could say that would be too much information for me. We've been through way too much together for that."

She chuckled lightly, remembering their teenage years and the countless sleepovers and baths they had shared. "Seriously, Y/n, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing as she weighed her options. She knew she could trust Alexandra with her life, but the thought of confessing her sinful desires still made her palms sweat with nervousness.

As Alexandra took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she knew she needed to make. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her palms grew clammy with nerves, but she forced herself to speak.

"I... I masturbated while thinking about Oscar," Y/n blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes fixed on her bowl of cereal, unable to meet Alexandra's gaze as she waited for her friend's reaction.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, Alexandra lowered her spoon, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Who are you talking about?"

Y/n nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she realized Alexandra's confusion. "Yeah, I know you're not exactly the best with names and faces," she said, shaking her head. "He's one of the altar boys, one of the tallest out of all the servers earlier."

Alexandra's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Oh, shit," she breathed, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You mean the hot one with the wavy-ish hair and the dimples?"

Y/n felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that's the one," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about him, Alexandra. It's like every time I close my eyes, I see his face, and I..."

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as a wave of shame and desire washed over her.

Y/n buried her face in her palms, a loud groan escaping her lips as she tried to find the words to express the depth of her shame and desire. "Fuck, man," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "I literally thought about..."

She stopped abruptly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she realized what she was about to say. Taking a deep breath, Y/n slowly lowered her hands, revealing a face that was equal parts mortified and determined.

"I... I wanted to get bent over the altar," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "With him. With Oscar."

Alexandra's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock as she processed Y/n's confession. For a moment, she simply stared at her friend, her brain struggling to compute the sheer audacity of what Y/n had just admitted.

Alexandra let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Lord have mercy on your soul..." she joked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I never thought of you as the type to have such wild fantasies, Y/n."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always been the good girl, the pastor's daughter who always took the chance to pray and set a good example."

She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "But lately, I've been feeling... restless. Like there's this part of me that wants to break free, to explore things that I've always been taught are wrong or sinful."

Y/n's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she continued, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and excitement. "I mean, I've already explored them, yeah, but..." She trailed off, biting her lip as she struggled to find the right words.

"I want to experience these things without the fear of being dragged to hell by the devil himself," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "I want to feel alive, Alexandra. I want to know what it's like to give in to my desires, to let go of all the rules and restrictions that have been holding me back for so long."

Alexandra listened intently, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Y/n's arm, her touch gentle and reassuring.

She smiled warmly, her eyes shining with a mix of affection and understanding. "It's okay, Y/n," Alexandra said softly, her voice filled with reassurance. "That's why we have each other. We're here so that we can express ourselves freely to each other without judgment."

She squeezed Y/n's arm gently, her touch a silent reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared. "You don't have to be afraid to explore your... fantasies, Y/n. I'm here for you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to drag you to hell for it, they'll have to go through me first."

Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude and relief. She knew she could always count on Alexandra to be there for her, to support her no matter what.

Alexandra grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint as she leaned in closer to Y/n. "Well, if you really want to explore these desires of yours, maybe you should just seduce him," she suggested, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/n's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alexandra!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. "I can't just go up to him and... and..."

She trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as she considered the possibility. "Although..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

Alexandra took a bite of her cereal, a playful smirk on her face as she chewed thoughtfully. "I don't know, you could get disowned if your father finds out," she said, her tone light and teasing.

Y/n's eyes widened in panic, and she leaned forward, her voice rising with each word. "Wait, do you really think he would disown me?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Alexandra's own eyes widened in surprise, and she waved her hands frantically in front of her. "No, no, of course not!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "He'll be mad, yes, but he won't disown you. I was just joking, Y/n. Don't freak out."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her hand pressed against her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Please, never do that again," she pleaded, her voice still tinged with a hint of panic. "I might die of a heart attack before the alcohol I consume weekly gets to my liver."

Alexandra rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of guilt in her expression. "Fine, fine, I'll try to be more sensitive to your delicate constitution," she teased, her tone softening as she reached out to pat Y/n's hand reassuringly.

"But seriously, Y/n, you know your dad loves you. He might be strict, and he might be disappointed if he found out about your... extracurricular activities, but he would never disown you. You're his daughter, and nothing will ever change that."

Y/n nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she felt the tension drain from her body. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, her voice soft and grateful. "I know my dad loves me, no matter what."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the question that had been nagging at her since she saw Alexandra with Rebecca earlier. "So, what's going on between you and Rebecca?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "I mean, you practically pounced on her before I even left your room. Are you guys...?"

Alexandra's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she busied herself with her cereal, avoiding Y/n's gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the clink of her spoon against the bowl. "We're just friends."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by Alexandra's dismissive response. "Just friends?" she pressed, her tone skeptical. "Because it looked like there was something more going on between you two."

The next day, Y/n found herself at the church, as she often did in her free time. She moved through the familiar space with ease, straightening pews and dusting shelves, lost in thought as she reflected on her conversation with Alexandra the day before.

As she made her way behind the altar in search of the broom they used indoors, Y/n ran into Oscar. He was kneeling on the floor, his head bowed in prayer, his wavy hair falling across his forehead.

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so serene, and she felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

"Oscar?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing.

Oscar startled at the sound of her voice, his head snapping up to look at her. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks as he realized who it was.

“Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were praying.” Y/n said shyly, realizing she may have interrupted his sacred time with God.

Oscar stood up, brushing off his knees as he turned to face Y/n. "Hi," he said, his voice soft and warm. "No need to apologize. I was just finishing up anyway."

Y/n felt a rush of relief wash over her, and she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay. Good," she said, her voice trembling slightly with nerves. "I was just looking for the broom. I'm supposed to be cleaning up around here."

Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I can help you with that," he offered, gesturing towards the supply closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. "It's my turn to clean the altar anyway."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar, and she felt a sudden surge of excitement mixed with anxiety. "That would be great," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you."

Oscar handed Y/n the broom, and they made their way out into the main sanctuary. As Oscar began cleaning the altar, Y/n started sweeping the floor, the soft swish of the broom mingling with the hushed conversations of the churchgoers.

The congregation seemed unbothered by their presence, as it was a fairly normal sight to see the altar boys tending to the altar and Y/n cleaning. They went about their tasks quietly, the only sounds being the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of metal as Oscar polished the candlesticks.

As Y/n swept, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Alexandra. She couldn't help but think about what it would be like to be with Oscar, to feel his strong hands on her body, to taste his lips against hers. The thought made her cheeks flush with heat, and she quickly pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Y/n found herself zoning out, her mind wandering as she swept the same spots over and over again, as if trying to erase some invisible stain. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when Oscar had finished cleaning the altar and had moved on to wiping down the glass cases that held the statues of various saints.

It wasn't until she heard the soft clink of glass that Y/n snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized how distracted she had been. She glanced over at Oscar, who was diligently working his way down the line of statues, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched him work. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the way his hair fell across his forehead as he leaned in to clean the higher shelves. It was almost enough to make her forget where they were, to make her want to reach out and touch him, consequences be damned.

She quickly made her way back behind the altar, putting the broom away in its designated spot. She then headed to the front pew, the same place she had sat in yesterday and for years before, having been the one to always read the second readings during mass.

As she settled onto the hard wooden bench, Y/n let out a soft sigh, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She could still feel the heat of Oscar's presence, the way her heart had raced as she watched him work. It was almost too much to bear, the desire that coursed through her veins, the longing to be close to him.

Y/n closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pew as she tried to calm her racing thoughts. She knew it was wrong, that she should be focused on her faith, on serving God, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to Oscar's presence.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, that her life was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open as she felt the pew shift slightly beside her. She turned her head to see Oscar settling in next to her, a slightly damp rag clutched in his hand.

"Man, that was exhausting," he said, his voice low and tired. "I don't know how you do it, Y/n. Cleaning this whole place by yourself."

Y/n smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice so close to her. "It's not so bad," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's kind of peaceful, actually. A chance to clear my head and just... be."

She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against Oscar's as she did so. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.

Oscar turned to look at Y/n, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Be...?" he repeated, his voice trailing off as he searched her face for answers.

Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm not really living, you know? Like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to be someone I'm not."

She paused, her gaze drifting to the stained glass windows that cast a puzzle of colors across the sanctuary. "But when I'm here, cleaning, praying... it's like I can finally breathe. Like I can finally be myself."

Oscar nodded slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Sometimes it feels like the whole world is expecting us to be something we're not. To fit into these perfect little boxes that don't really exist."

Y/n let out a quiet groan, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the pew. "This is making me sad," she admitted, her voice heavy with emotion.

Oscar's brow furrowed with concern, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on her skin. "Let's do something fun. How about we go get a milkshake at the diner?"

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "Sure," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That sounds perfect."

They stood up from the pew, Oscar's hand lingering on Y/n's arm for a moment longer than necessary. As they made their way out of the church, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't deny the way her heart raced at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar.

The diner was a short, five-minute walk away from the church, nestled on the corner of Main Street. As they stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed, announcing their arrival. The scent of fried food and coffee hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and low chatter.

Oscar led the way to a booth in the back, sliding in across from Y/n. She watched as he flagged down the waitress, ordering a chocolate milkshake for himself and a vanilla one for her. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.

"Vanilla is my favorite," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you know?"

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your dad talks about you a lot," he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I may have picked up a few things."

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of her father talking about her, of Oscar taking the time to listen and remember the little details.

As the milkshakes arrived, Y/n found her mind drifting back to her conversation with Alexandra. The words "seduce him" echoed in her head, a tantalizing whisper that set her heart racing.

Without thinking, Y/n reached for the whipped cream on top of her milkshake, scooping up a dollop with her finger. She brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick it off slowly and deliberately. It was an innocent gesture, but there was something undeniably sensual about the way she did it, the way her eyes locked with Oscar's as she savored the sweetness.

"Mmm, delicious," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I love vanilla."

Oscar's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/n's lips, from the way they glistened with the remnants of the whipped cream.

"I... I'm glad you like it," he stammered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/n tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. She bent forward, her lips parting as she took the cherry from the top of the whipped cream, her tongue darting out to catch the sweet, sticky juice.

She sat back up, a playful laugh escaping her lips as she caught Oscar's wide-eyed stare. He was praying in his head, begging God not to tempt him like this, to keep him pure and innocent. But with each passing moment, each glimpse of Y/n's flesh, his resolve was crumbling.

"What's the matter, Oscar?" Y/n teased, her voice low and sultry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. "N-nothing," he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine."

As they sipped their milkshakes, Y/n continued her innocent yet seductive antics. She ran her fingers along the rim of the glass, her eyes never leaving Oscar's face as she watched him squirm in his seat.

"So tell me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and breathy. "What do you like to do for fun?"

Oscar nearly choked on his milkshake, coughing and sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "I... I like to read," he managed, his voice hoarse. "And play guitar. And... and help out at the church."

Y/n leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she propped her chin in her hands. "That's nice," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "I bet you're really good with your hands. With the guitar, I mean."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took another sip of her milkshake. "You know, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I've always wondered what it would be like to play the guitar."

She set her glass down, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop of milkshake from the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you could teach me sometime," she purred, her gaze never leaving his. "I'm a quick learner."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew he should put a stop to this, to tell Y/n that he couldn't be her teacher, that it was wrong. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I... I'd be happy to teach you," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. "Anytime you want."

Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Okay, I'll think about it," she said, her voice light and airy. As she shifted in her seat, her foot brushed against Oscar's thigh, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

"Oops," she giggled, her cheeks flushing with feigned innocence. "Sorry about that."

Oscar's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He knew it was just an accident, that Y/n didn't mean anything by it. But the way she looked at him, the way her foot lingered on his thigh, it was enough to drive him wild with desire.

"It's... it's okay," he managed, his voice hoarse and strained. "Accidents happen."

Y/n leaned forward, her eyes wide and innocent as she looked up at Oscar through her lashes. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "Can I try a sip of your milkshake? I've never had the chocolate flavor before. My dad always gets the black coffee, and I've just been getting vanilla ever since I was a kid."

Oscar's heart skipped a beat at the request, his mind racing with the implications. He knew it was just a milkshake, just a simple, innocent gesture. But the way Y/n looked at him, the way her lips parted as she waited for his answer, it was enough to make his head spin.

"Sure," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. He slid his glass across the table, his fingers brushing against hers as she reached for it.

Y/n wrapped her lips around the straw, her eyes never leaving Oscar's as she took a long, slow sip. She let out a soft moan of appreciation, savoring the taste.

"Mmm, it's good," Y/n purred, her eyes half-lidded as she set the glass back down on the table. "But I still prefer my vanilla milkshake."

She took another sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of cream on her bottom lip. "There's just something about the simplicity of vanilla, you know? It's pure, untainted. Innocent."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew Y/n was just talking about the milkshake, but the way she spoke, the way her words seemed to hang in the air between them, it was enough to make his head spin.

"I... I understand," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Vanilla is a classic for a reason."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly," she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "Sometimes, the simplest things are the most satisfying."

Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked up at Oscar. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry. "My dad's not going to be home tonight, so I was thinking... maybe you could come over later and help me practice guitar?"

She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft, plump flesh as she waited for his response. "We could stay up late, just the two of us. I'm sure you could teach me a thing or two."

Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew it was a bad idea, that he should say no, that he should run as far away from Y/n as possible. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.

"I'd- I'd love to," he managed, his voice rough but hesitant. "Just give me a call when you're ready."

Y/n clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yay!" she exclaimed, her voice high and girlish. "I can't wait to learn how to play guitar."

She leaned back in her seat, her demeanor shifting to something more playful and innocent. As they continued to talk, Oscar found himself struggling to focus, his mind still reeling from Y/n's bold flirtation.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his skin flushed and tingling with a strange new sensation. He had never felt so... desired before, so wanted. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a rush of adrenaline that left him breathless and dizzy.

Throughout the rest of their conversation, Oscar found himself stealing glances at Y/n, his eyes lingering on the curve of her lips, and the softness of her skin. He knew it was wrong, that he should push these feelings aside and focus on his faith, but he couldn't help the way his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again later, of being alone with her in the privacy of her home.

Y/n walked towards the door, her heart racing with anticipation. She had chosen her outfit carefully, wanting to strike a balance between comfort and allure. She wore a pair of shorts that were short enough to reveal an unholy amount of skin, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.

On top, she had opted for a white shirt that was sheer enough to hint at the outline of her bra beneath, the delicate lace peeking through the thin fabric, contrasting the gold cross necklace she had worn her entire life

As she reached for the doorknob, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about Oscar. But she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of being alone with him, of having his undivided attention.

With a final twist of the knob, Y/n pulled open the door, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Oscar standing on the other side. "Hey there," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "Come on in."

Oscar stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in Y/n's appearance. "Thanks for inviting me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No need to thank me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I'm the one who should be thanking you for agreeing to teach me."

She gestured towards the living room, her hips swaying slightly as she walked. "We can practice in here, it's nice and spacious. But fair warning, it's a bit hot in here. No AC."

Y/n turned back to face him, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Or we could practice in my room. It's a bit smaller, but the AC works perfectly. Your choice."

"I think I'd prefer a cold room over a hot one," he said shyly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

She shot him a warm smile, "Okay, follow me." She gestured, making her way up the stairs.

scar's gaze flickered over the photos lining the walls as Y/n led him upstairs, his heart clenching at the sight of her and her father together. There were pictures of them at the beach, at her graduation, at various milestones throughout her life. Occasionally, a photo of Alexandra and Y/n would appear, the two girls grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other's waists.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Y/n paused, turning to face Oscar. "My room's just down the hall," she said, her voice soft. "Last door on the right."

She started walking again, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. Oscar followed behind her, his eyes glued to the gentle curve of her spine, the way her shirt clung to her back.

When they reached her room, Y/n pushed open the door, gesturing for Oscar to enter. "After you," she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The room was exactly as Oscar had imagined it would be. Simple, minimalistic, with a white metal bed frame and a small crucifix hanging above it. In the corner, there was a small altar with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and on the bedside table, a pink pearl rosary lay coiled neatly. The bedspread was mostly white, with delicate pink flowers scattered across the surface, and the pillowcases were the reverse, with a pink background and white flowers.

"You can sit wherever you're comfortable," Y/n said, gesturing to the bed and the floor. "I'll go grab my dad's guitar."

As she turned to leave, Oscar's eyes lingered on the bed, on the soft, inviting surface. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was here to teach Y/n how to play guitar, nothing more.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern of the bedspread. The room was cool and quiet, the hum of the air conditioner a soothing background noise.

As he waited for Y/n to return, he couldn't help but notice the subtle details of her room. There was a faint, delicate scent of jasmine in the air, which he later discovered came from a small air freshener perched on her dresser. Everywhere he looked, there were hints of innocence - the soft pink hues of her bedding, the occasional hair tie scattered on her nightstand, the various rings she wore on her slender fingers.

On the wall, there was a framed dried flower, its petals faded and brittle with age. Oscar wondered about its significance, about the memories it held for Y/n.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Y/n entering the room, a guitar case in her hands. She set it down on the bed beside him, her fingers lingering on the smooth, worn leather.

"Okay," she said, her voice bright and eager. "Let's get started."

Oscar helped Y/n remove the guitar from its case, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her hands. He held it up, examining it closely. "When was the last time this was tuned?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes darting away from his. "To be honest, we haven't used it in about two years," she admitted, her voice sheepish. "We kind of forgot about it."

Oscar nodded, his fingers plucking at the strings experimentally. They were out of tune, the notes discordant and jarring. "No worries," he said, his voice reassuring. "We can tune it right now."

He sat down on the bed, patting the space beside him for Y/n to join. As she settled in next to him, Oscar began to tune the guitar, his fingers moving deftly over the strings. The room filled with the soft, melodic sounds of the instrument coming to life, the notes blending together in perfect harmony.

Oscar finished tuning the guitar and handed it to Y/n, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "Here you go," he said, his voice soft. "Now, let's start with the basics."

He sat beside her on the bed, his leg brushing against hers as he demonstrated the proper way to hold the guitar. "Keep your thumb behind the neck of the guitar," he instructed, his hand guiding hers. "And wrap your fingers around the fretboard like this."

As he showed her how to position her fingers, Oscar couldn't help but notice the way Y/n's hands felt in his, the softness of her skin, the delicate strength in her fingers. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Now, let's try strumming," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He reached over, his hand covering hers as he guided the pick across the strings. The guitar came alive under their touch, the notes ringing out clear and bright.

"Good job," Oscar said, his voice warm with approval. He leaned in closer, his eyes focused on the way Y/n was holding the guitar. It seemed awkward, her fingers splayed across the fretboard in an unnatural position.

As he tried to adjust her grip, his gaze drifted lower, drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes lingered on the soft swell of her breasts.

Realizing what he was doing, Oscar quickly closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He couldn't let himself be tempted like this, not when he was supposed to be teaching her, guiding her.

He forced himself to focus on the guitar, on the feel of the smooth wood beneath his fingers, the cool metal of the strings. "Let's try that again," he said, his voice strained. "This time, keep your wrist straight, like this."

His hand covered hers once more, his touch gentle but firm as he guided her through the proper technique.

As Y/n began to get the hang of the guitar, her fingers moving more confidently across the fretboard, Oscar felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. She was a natural, her hands seeming to instinctively find the right positions, the right chords.

But then, in a moment of enthusiasm, Y/n applied too much pressure to one of the strings, the sharp edge of the fret digging into her fingertip. She gasped, her hand jerking away from the guitar as a thin line of blood welled up on her finger.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and pain. She brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the wound instinctively.

Oscar's heart clenched at the sight, his hand reaching out to steady the guitar as it threatened to slip from her lap. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Y/n nodded, her eyes meeting his. "It's just a little cut," she said, her voice muffled by her finger. "Nothing serious."

Oscar could see the pain in Y/n's eyes, the way she was trying to hold back tears. His heart ached for her, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Let me see," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the cut on her finger.

"It must hurt," he murmured, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you have a bandaid here?"

Y/n nodded, pointing to the small desk in the corner of her room. "Yeah, there's a box in the drawer."

He stood up, crossing the room to retrieve the bandages. As he rummaged through the drawer, he couldn't help but notice the personal items scattered amongst the clutter- a hairbrush, a tube of lip gloss, a few loose change. He felt a pang of guilt for intruding on her private space but pushed the feeling aside.

He returned to the bed, sitting down beside Y/n once more. "Here," he said, holding out a small, square bandage. "Let me put this on for you."

Oscar carefully applied the bandage to Y/n's finger, his touch gentle and precise. As he finished, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There was only the two of them, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed beneath them.

Before Oscar could react, Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. He froze for a moment, his mind reeling with shock and confusion. But as Y/n's lips moved against his, he found himself kissing her back, his own inexperience evident in the awkward, tentative movements of his mouth.

Y/n could tell that Oscar hadn't kissed anyone before, and a part of her was thrilled at the idea of being his first. She deepened the kiss, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open for her.

Oscar pulled away from the kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. He was flustered, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. "Y/n, we can't," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is the devil tempting us, trying to lead us astray."

But Y/n wasn't having it. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Then why does it feel so good?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Tell me you want me too, Oscar. I don't care if we're going to hell for it. I just need you."

Her words sent a shiver down Oscar's spine, his body responding to her touch, her proximity. He knew it was wrong, that he should resist, that he should push her away. But the desire coursing through his veins was too strong, too overwhelming.

"I... I do want you," he admitted, his voice trembling with longing. "But we can't. It's not right."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with determination as she gazed into Oscar's conflicted face. She knew she had him on the hook, and she wasn't about to let him slip away.

"Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "Don't you believe that God forgives those who truly repent? That He understands the weakness of the flesh?"

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "We can give in to this temptation, just this once. And then we can confess our sins, ask for forgiveness. It's not like we're doing anything truly sinful, after all. We're human, we can sin every once in a while."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's persuasive words. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a small part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n's words washed over Oscar like a tidal wave, eroding his resistance with each passing second. "It's a sign, Oscar," she breathed, her eyes wide and imploring. "Look around you. It's just the two of us, nobody to disturb us, nobody to judge us. Maybe it's meant to be. Maybe we're meant to give in to our desires, just this one time."

Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. Oscar's heart raced, his body responding to her touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that they were alone, that no one would ever know. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Y/n leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Please, Oscar," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "I need you. I want you. Let's just forget about everything else for a while and focus on each other."

Oscar's resolve was crumbling, his body betraying his mind as Y/n's seductive words washed over him. "But they're watching," he whispered, his eyes darting to the crucifix and the statue of the Virgin Mary.

Y/n followed his gaze, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Let them watch," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "They know this is natural, Oscar. They'll understand. It's not like we're committing some unforgivable sin."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "God created us with these desires, Oscar. He wouldn't condemn us for acting on them."

His heart raced, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument.

Y/n's hands slid down Oscar's chest, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. "Don't you see, Oscar?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be together, to share this moment. It's a gift from God."

Her lips trailed along his jawline, her teeth grazing his skin. "Think about it," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "We're alone, with no one to disturb us. No one to judge us. It's like we're in our own little world, a world where the only thing that matters is us."

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.

Oscar's resistance finally crumbled, his body melting into Y/n's embrace as he returned her kisses with a shy, tentative passion. "I... I don't know how to please a woman," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never... I'm a virgin."

Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before being replaced by a look of tender understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'll guide you, Oscar. We'll take it slow, and I'll show you everything you need to know."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Just trust me, and let yourself feel. Let yourself experience the pleasure that God has gifted us with."

Y/n gently guided Oscar to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Just relax," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'll take care of you."

She knelt down in front of him, her eyes level with his crotch. Slowly, teasingly, she ran her hands up his thighs, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his jeans.

Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to her touch despite his nervousness. He had never been this intimate with anyone before, and the thought of Y/n touching him in such a way both thrilled and terrified him.

Y/n's fingers dug into Oscar's thighs, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she squeezed and massaged the firm muscle. She could feel him shudder under her touch, his body responding to her teasing caresses.

A wicked smile played on her lips as she heard his sharp intake of breath. She loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and at her mercy. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she had the power to make him tremble with desire.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers toying with the metal tab. She could see the bulge in his pants, the evidence of his arousal, and it only served to fuel her own desire.

With a swift tug, she pulled down his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting echoing in the quiet room. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one smooth motion until they pooled around his ankles.

Oscar flinched as Y/n eagerly tugged down his jeans and boxers, exposing his most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. Feeling shy and embarrassed by her boldness, he quickly covered his face and mouth with one hand, hiding behind it as she began to touch him.

Y/n's fingers danced along his inner thighs, slowly making their way higher and higher. She could feel his body trembling under her touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She reveled in the power she held over him, in the way she could make him quiver with just a simple caress.

"Relax, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "There's no need to be shy. I'm going to make you feel so good."

Her hand wrapped around his hardening length, her fingers stroking him slowly, teasingly. Oscar let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him.

Oscar whimpered as Y/n's fingers danced along his sensitive skin, her touch both tantalizing and overwhelming. "Have you ever touched yourself?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes darting away from hers. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n chuckled, her fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "I don't believe you," she purred, her thumb grazing the tip of his hardening length.

He let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him. "I... I tried," he admitted, his voice trembling with embarrassment. "But I didn't know how."

Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Give me your hand," she purred, her voice low and seductive.

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. But as Y/n's fingers intertwined with his, he found himself giving in to her guidance.

She wrapped his hand around his hardening length, her fingers gently curling around his own. "Like this," she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. "You can go slow."

She guided his hand in a slow, steady rhythm, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation.

"Or you can go faster," Y/n whispered, her hand speeding up the pace. Oscar gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his strokes.

Oscar's shy moans filled the room as Y/n continued to guide his hand, her fingers curling around his own as she showed him how to stroke himself. "That feels good, doesn't it?" she purred, her voice low and seductive.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt anything like this before, the pleasure coursing through his body like a raging river.

Y/n's hand sped up, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his pleasure.

"You're doing so well, Oscar," she murmured, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself enjoy it."

Y/n's fingers slowed their strokes, her hand still intertwined with Oscar's as she guided him. "I'm going to do something now," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Don't freak out, okay?"

Oscar nodded, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Okay," he managed to choke out, his eyes wide with anticipation and nervousness.

Slowly, teasingly, Y/n leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Oscar let out a low, guttural moan, his fingers tightening around hers as he felt the warm, wet heat of her mouth enveloping him.

Her head bobbed up and down, her lips sealed tightly around Oscar's shaft as she began to suck. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, her cheeks hollowing as she increased the suction.

Oscar's fingers tightened around hers, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. But as Y/n guided his hands away from his cock, he found himself letting go, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders as she took him deeper into her mouth.

The cross necklace around Y/n's neck dangled and swayed with each movement of her head, the gold chain catching the light as it brushed against her skin. Oscar watched, transfixed, as the symbol of her faith bounced and twirled, a stark contrast to the act she was performing.

Y/n's lips stretched around his length, her throat constricting as she took him deeper and deeper. Oscar's head fell back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lost himself in the intense pleasure of her mouth.

Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head as Y/n's mouth worked its magic on his throbbing length. "Oh my god," he groaned, the words tumbling from his lips without a second thought.

For a brief moment, the realization that he had just taken the Lord's name in vain flashed through his mind. But the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body quickly pushed any thoughts of sin or guilt aside.

Y/n's tongue swirled around his shaft, her lips sealed tightly around him as she bobbed her head up and down. The wet, obscene sounds of her sucking filled the room, mingling with Oscar's breathy moans and gasps.

He tangled his fingers in her hair, his hips rocking back and forth as he lost himself in the sensation. Nothing else mattered in that moment - not his faith, not his vows, not the consequences of his actions. All that existed was the feeling of Y/n's mouth on his cock, and the all-consuming need for more.

Y/n could feel Oscar's body tensing, his grip on her hair loosening as he neared his climax. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hips rocking erratically as he chased his release.

But just as he was about to reach the peak, Y/n abruptly stopped, pulling her mouth away from his throbbing length. Oscar let out a strangled cry, his body writhing with frustration.

"No, please, don't stop," he begged, his voice hoarse and pleading. "It felt so good. Please, I need..."

Y/n placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Calm down. It'll feel even better later, I promise. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Oscar's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need. But as he looked into Y/n's eyes, he found himself nodding, his trust in her overriding his desperation.

Y/n smiled, pleased with Oscar's compliance. "Good boy," she purred, her eyes roaming hungrily over his nearly naked form. "Now, why don't you take off the rest of your clothes for me?"

Oscar nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly before kicking off his jeans, which were still bunched around his ankles.

In his haste to obey Y/n's command, Oscar didn't even notice that she was undressing as well. His eyes were fixed on her face, his body trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Y/n's fingers deftly traced the bottom of her shirt, her hips swaying seductively as she slipped it off her shoulders. Her bra followed soon after, revealing her pert breasts to Oscar's wide-eyed gaze. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, shimmying out of it before sliding her panties down her legs.

Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson as he took in the sight of Y/n's naked body. He wanted to speak, to express the multitude of emotions and desires coursing through him. But the words caught in his throat, his shyness overpowering his courage.

Y/n noticed his hesitation, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Do you need to say anything, Oscar?" she asked, her voice low and inviting. "Don't be shy. It's just the two of us here."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I... I just..." he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I've never seen a girl naked before. You're so beautiful."

Y/n's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Thank you, Oscar," she purred, taking a step closer to him. "And you're pretty cute yourself."

She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, his abs, his hips. Oscar shivered under her touch, his body responding to her closeness despite his nervousness.

Y/n noticed Oscar's nervousness, the way his body trembled under her touch. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Hey," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "Calm down for me, okay? You need to relax."

Oscar's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting hers. "S-sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a bit scared."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. "It's okay to be scared," she murmured, her lips brushing against his forehead. "But I'm here with you. I won't let anything happen to you."

She kissed him again, her lips moving softly against his. Oscar melted into the kiss, his fears slowly dissipating as he lost himself in the sensation of her touch, her warmth, her presence.

Y/n noticed the worried expression on Oscar's face, his body tense and uncertain. She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. As she did, she rocked her hips, taking him deeper inside her. A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening as she felt him stretch her further.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice strained with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. "You're huge."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body relaxing slightly at her words. He had never heard such a compliment before, and it sent a surge of confidence coursing through him.

Y/n smiled, her hips moving in small, circular motions. "See?" she purred, her lips curling into a seductive smirk. "I can handle you. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Oscar nodded, his body relaxing under Y/n's guidance. "Okay," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation.

As Y/n began to move, Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure. "Oh god," he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she rode him. "Oh fu- oh my god."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "It's okay to swear. It's just between us."

Oscar's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Fuck," he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a forbidden fruit. "Fuck, Y/n. You feel so good."

She smiled, her hips moving faster, harder. "That's it," she purred, her voice encouraging. "Let go. Say whatever you want. No one's here to judge us."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she heard Oscar swear, his voice trembling with pleasure. "That's it," she purred, her hips moving faster, harder. "You sound so pretty when you swear."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "God forbid my father ever finds out," she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. "But I'd gladly risk it if it meant I could hear this every night."

Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the thought of being discovered. But the pleasure coursing through him was too intense to ignore, and he found himself pushing the thought aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Y/n's body moving against his.

Y/n threw her head back, a loud moan escaping her lips as Oscar hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "Fuck, right there baby," she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.

But as she felt him tense beneath her, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and panic, she realized what was happening. "Stop, stop," he whimpered, his voice muffled against her neck. "I-I think I'm gonna pee."

Her eyes widened, but she quickly reassured him. "No, you're not," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "That's just your body's way of telling you you're about to cum."

As if on cue, Oscar's body convulsed, his hips bucking as he released inside her. Y/n gasped, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt him fill her with his seed.

They lay there for a moment, their breaths gradually slowing as they came down from their high. But as the post-orgasmic haze began to lift, reality started to set in.

Oscar buried his face in Y/n's neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "That was so... oh my god..."

Y/n's arms tightened around him, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. "I know," she whispered, her voice soft and understanding. "It's a lot to take in."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "I mean, physically. Did I hurt you at all?"

Oscar shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No," he mumbled, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."

Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of Oscar's face. "That's okay," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's normal to feel overwhelmed after your first time. Just take a deep breath and try to relax."

But before Oscar could respond, a loud crack of thunder echoed outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the window. Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the sudden noise.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.

Y/n glanced towards the window, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's just rain," she explained, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin. "A big storm must have rolled in while we were... distracted."

Oscar's eyes darted between Y/n and the window, his mind struggling to process the new sensory input. The sound of the rain, the flashes of lightning illuminating the room, the scent of petrichor wafting through the air - it was all too much for his overstimulated senses to handle.

She felt his body tense against hers as another clap of thunder boomed outside. She could sense his fear, his discomfort with the sudden storm. "Okay, lay down for me," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "You can use the pillows to cover your ears while I go downstairs, okay?"

He nodded, his face still buried in the crook of her neck. He slowly laid down on the bed, his hands clutching the pillows tightly to his ears.

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll call your mom on the landline and let her know you're staying over tonight," she explained, her fingers tracing the shell of his ear. "I can't let you walk home in this rain."

Oscar's eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "But my mom..." he started, his voice muffled by the pillows.

"Shh, it's okay," Y/n reassured him, her lips brushing against his temple. "I'll explain everything. Just try to relax, okay?"

Y/n slipped out of the bedroom, pulling her clothes back on. As she made her way downstairs, she glanced back at Oscar, who was lying on the bed staring out the window. His ears were still covered with the pillow, and the bottom half of his body was now draped with the blanket.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his vulnerability and innocence shining through despite the intimate act they had just shared. She knew he was scared, overwhelmed by the storm and the new experiences of the day. But she also knew that he trusted her, that he felt safe with her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation with Oscar's mother. She knew it wouldn't be easy, to explain why her son was spending the night during a thunderstorm. But she also knew that it was the right thing to do, to keep him safe and protected.

Y/n picked up the phone and dialed Oscar's mother's number, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she waited for the call to connect.

When Nicole answered, Y/n explained the situation, her voice trembling slightly. "Hi Nicole, it's Y/n. I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but... Oscar is here with me. We were practicing guitar when the storm hit, and it's just too dangerous for him to walk home right now."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Y/n's heart sank. But then Nicole's voice came through, warm and understanding. "Oh honey, don't worry about it. I was actually just about to call you. I was going to ask if Oscar could stay the night, because I don't want him walking home in this weather either."

Y/n let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. "Thank you so much, Nicole," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I really appreciate your understanding."

Y/n hung up the phone, a wave of relief washing over her. She had been so worried about how Nicole would react, but her understanding and support had put Y/n's mind at ease.

She made her way back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted steps. As she entered the bedroom, she found Oscar still lying on the bed, his ears covered with the pillow and his body tucked under the blanket.

"Everything's okay," she said softly, perching on the edge of the bed. "Your mom knows you're here, and she's happy for you to stay the night. She was actually just about to call and ask me the same thing."

Oscar's eyes widened, the pillow slipping slightly as he turned to look at her. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Really. She understands about the storm, and she doesn't want you walking home in this weather either."

Y/n rummaged through her closet, pulling out an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. They were clearly her father's clothes, the shirt hanging loosely on her frame as she held them out to Oscar.

"Come on, sit up," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let me help you get changed."

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But the thought of wearing his own wet, sticky clothes made him shudder, and he slowly sat up, the blanket falling away from his body.

Y/n helped him into the oversized shirt, the fabric swallowing his smaller frame. She then handed him the shorts, averting her eyes as he slipped them on.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Comfy?"

Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the oversized clothes. They were comfortable, and he felt a sense of safety and security wearing them.

But as he went to stand up, he suddenly pulled Y/n down with him, plopping back onto the bed. She let out a small "oof" of surprise, but didn't comment on it, realizing that he was just tired and seeking comfort.

Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he snuggled into the pillow. Y/n could feel his body relaxing against hers, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep.

She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair as she watched him sleep. Despite the events of the day, the intimacy they had shared, she felt a sense of peace wash over her.

The following Sunday, Y/n and Oscar found themselves back at church, sitting in their usual pews. Y/n was scheduled to read a Bible verse about lust, a topic that had taken on a whole new meaning since their encounter last week.

As she stood up to approach the podium, Y/n couldn't help but steal a glance at Oscar. Her eyes met his, and she saw his cheeks flush a deep crimson, his gaze darting away from hers.

She suppressed a smile, remembering the intimate moments they had shared. The thought of the pastor's daughter and an altar server engaging in such activities would surely raise some eyebrows if anyone found out.

Y/n cleared her throat, the microphone crackling to life as she began to read the verse. "For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God..."

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itsthecline · 4 months ago

Text

WONDERING WHY

0.1 BOYFRIEND

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary omit ( verb. ) to leave out or exclude someone / something , either intentionally or forgetfully

word count 4k

warnings our girl is lowkey a brat but i think that’s it other than christian!reader , kook!reader , classism , and allusions to a bad previous relationship

previous chapter

a/n i ended up writing a bunch for this series already , and so here’s the first actual chapter relatively quick after the prologue post:)

THURSDAY MORNINGS usually meant you could sleep in a little later— closer to nine than eight. today , however , you were up at six to get ready for your packed day. you texted jj , reminding him to be here at ten o’clock sharp. no later.

you filled your morning with a jog around the neighborhood , helping your mother make breakfast , and dropping your younger sister off at her friend’s house for a girls day they were having. after that , you had to— for your own sake , go over the checklist of meetings and dinners that you needed to attend before midsummers one more time.

by the time 9:30 rolled around , you were dressed and ready to go down to the tailor for your first fitting. you checked your phone again , seeing if jj had even read your text yet. delivered. maybe he didn’t have his read receipts on.

he’d be here. he’d show up.

that was all you could really tell yourself.

on the other side of the island , jj was just waking up. he jolted awake , face indented from the way he fell asleep on the pillows the night before. he reached over for his phone , looking to see what time it was.

the screen didn’t light up. he quickly shuffled , hand fumbling down the charger cord to see it had been unplugged from the wall. “fuck!” he cursed , shoving himself up from the bed and rushing down the stairs.

“yo , what time is it?” he shouted , hoping one of his many friends would answer him. they all looked over their shoulders from the living room , seeing the blonde stumble around , yanking his clothes and boots on.

“its like quarter to ten,” pope called back out , looking down at his watch.

“fuckkkk!” jj groaned , grabbing the keys to the van, “i’m late! takin’ the twinkie!” he announced , shoving through the front door and bounding down the porch steps. he didn’t even bother to close the door on the way out , instead just hopping behind the van’s wheel and peeling off to figure eight.

kie came around the corner , a couple of water bottles for her friends. “what was that about?” she hummed , looking out the open door.

“he has that thing with the pastor’s kid,” john b answered with a smug smile , grabbing the bottle being held out to him, “he told us ‘bout it yesterday , remember?”

“ohhh , yeah!” kie mused , mind replaying yesterday’s events at the wreck, “she’s cute.”

“she’s also way too polite for jj,” sarah laughed , stealing the water from her husband, “i mean , i remember her from school , and she was just so shy. kept to herself and all that.”

pope shook his head , swallowing down more of his cereal, “nah , they used to be friends way back when though.”

“what?” the girls all gasped.

“rude boy was friends with that shy thing from kie’s parents’ place?” cleo asked , only just ‘meeting’ you yesterday but still as invested.

pope and john b nodded together , recalling a time before high school when jj would skip out on their hangouts to do something with you. ‘family friend , guys. i feel bad,’ he’d lie to them , getting out of whatever they had planned to spend time with you instead.

the group continued theorizing what jj was helping you with , not getting the complete story from him the day before. all the while he was speeding across the island to get to your door before it was ten o’clock. his blue eyes kept darting to the dashboard’s clock , seeing his time run out faster and faster. 9:57 , and he was just now getting to figure eight.

“mom , if jj shows up , will you tell him i’m sick?” you asked quietly , walking into the kitchen where she was working on her laptop.

she peered up at you over her glasses. “jj maybank , your boyfriend?” she smiled , patting for you to sit next to her in the breakfast nook as she was still over the moon from your news earlier in the week, “what’s he coming over to do?”

“he’s not invited anymore,” you corrected her , resting your chin on her shoulder as you looked at her computer screen. it was a spreadsheet , an itinerary for the next weeks approaching midsummers. “he’s late , so i’m upset.”

“well , you can’t blame him , hon,” your mother cooed at you, “he’s probably on the way. give him more than two minutes.” you held back from rolling your eyes at her soft spot for the boy after all of these years. after all of the tears she wiped away from your cheeks when you were fourteen.

“will you tell him i’m sick?” you pleaded again , pulling at the sleeves of her robe like a little kid.

she pressed a kiss to your forehead and tutted at you. “no , baby. we don’t lie in this house,” she answered , going back to typing and organizing on her laptop.

you huffed and pushed yourself out of the booth , straighten out your skirt. “fine , but i’m not happy about this,” you whined , beginning to walk out of the kitchen.

her voice called out your name again as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of you. you stopped , turning to face her expectantly. “i think it’s a good thing you chose to give him a second chance.”

“yeah,” you sighed , guilt boiling in your gut , ignoring her knowing smile before walking to the front door. you’d just have to go to the fitting by yourself.

as you stepped outside , you could hear the rattle of a car nearing you from the street. it was loud enough to get your attention , telling you whoever was driving was going far too fast for the residential area. next thing you know , the beat up van you knew as john b’s twinkie was pulling into your driveway.

your hand raised above your sight line , blocking the sun so you could glare at jj. “didn’t get my twelve texts?” you asked him , watching as he practically fell out of the van upon his arrival which caused your embarrassment from the amount of times you tried contacting him to simmer.

“i’m sorry! my phone never got plugged in , s’my alarm didn’t go off. the damn twinkie gave out a couple blocks away , and i had to start ‘er back up—“ jj huffed out before you decided to just get in your car. he watched you , already feeling your disappointment.

you rolled down the passenger window , leaning over. “get in , please? we’re late,” you spoke , like you had already forgiven him , which you had. you saw how he was out of breath and the fresh grease stains on his fingers. it wasn’t his fault he was late.

jj ripped the door open , flopping into the passenger seat before buckling up. “where we headed , angel?” he asked you , already poking around in the car’s abundance of compartments.

“the tailor. we have to get you measured for your tux,” you simply answered , backing out of your driveway, “and i have to get re-measured too.”

jj nodded , chewing at his lip , and he couldn’t help but feel like you were giving him the cold shoulder. he was only eight minutes late. but maybe he just didn’t know you anymore. you spoke so much differently than you did from when you were kids , your voice clearer , more affirming. it sounded more like this was a business deal than an old friend doing an old friend a favor.

“it’s kinda like you’re my sugar momma for the next couple’a weeks,” jj chuckled to lighten to mood as you drive through the town’s center , eyeing all of the nice shops he never went to. it’s not like he wanted , but it was another reminder how differently you two grew up from each other.

you scoffed over your small laugh. “i guess so. in a weird way , yeah,” you agreed lightly , finding a parking spot right in front of the business you were going to, “just make sure to use your manners , please. katherine is friends with my dad and a huge gossip.”

“oh , yes , ma’am,” jj saluted you, “i will be prim and proper just for you , m’lady.” he got out of the car as you let out a shaky breath. you followed shortly after , seeing he was already holding the door open. “c’mon , you said we’re in a rush!”

you nudged him with your elbow when you stepped inside the small store. “i only said that so you’d hurry up. we don’t even have an appointment,” you admitted with a chuckle , picking up a pen at the front desk to sign in.

jj’s jaw dropped , letting out a gasp. “miss goodie-two-shoes lied?” he whisper yelled , hand coming to his heart, “is the world ending?”

“hush up,” you bit back , moving about the store as he followed you around like a lost puppy. he wasn’t about to go snooping around figure eight. he didn’t want to deal with it any more than he’d already agreed to.

“y/n! ah , so wonderful to see you , honey!” katherine’s shrill voice echoed through the building as she rushed to the front with her hands high and wide. you barely had time to smile back at her before she yanked you in for a hug. “you know , i’ve been waiting for your behind to get in here for your measurements for weeks!” she cried , guiding you to the back , not even sparing your blonde companion a second glance. you did though , catching jj standing there awkwardly in the front of the store.

“katherine , this is jj,” you interrupted her chatter , stopping to reach back and grab the boy’s hand, “i called about getting him set up with a tux for midsummers?”

katherine’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she took in who you were holding onto. “jj maybank…” she hummed , knowing exactly the reputation he and his father carried around, “i didn’t realize he was your plus one this year.”

you could hear the condescension in her voice , and by the tightening grip on your delicate hand , you knew jj could too. “well , he’s my boyfriend so…” you trailed off , waiting for katherine to just do her job and stop being like every other kook on the island. you never understood why your father considered her such a close friend. she was snippy and fake , and it was clear to you since the day you met.

“oh!” she smiled, “well come on back.” she turned to lead you both to the fitting areas , calling out her husband’s name to help out with jj’s measurements.

“boyfriend?” jj whispered to you , still holding your hand.

“didn’t i mention that?” you played dumb , knowing very well you left that little piece of information out yesterday when you got him to accept the deal.

“no , angel,” he shook his head , pulling you to a stop, “that’s like five hangouts worth! i only agreed because it was supposed to be one night of helpin’ ya out! and now you’re tellin’ me i gotta pretend to be your boyfriend too?” your hand reached up to cover jj’s mouth , looking around to make sure no one heard you.

“can we talk later?” you asked him , pleading eyes that begged him to leave it be for now.

but jj just scoffed , dropping your hand and flipping the curtain out of the way to follow after katherine.

YOU HADN’T heard a peep from the men’s parlor. katherine had been chatting in your ear the entire time she measured you , talking about everyone and everything. she mentioned having your family over to her house for dinner soon , which you made a mental note to bring up to your father when you got home later.

but you couldn’t help but think about jj behind the thick , velvet curtain. you heard katherine’s husband muttering every once in awhile , but never jj’s voice. was he actually mad at you? it was all pretend , and it would end right after midsummers. what was the big deal? he had done far worse things to you than omit some facts.

after long enough , katherine decided you didn’t even need to come in at all. “measurements are the same as last year , darling. you wasted your time here today,” she declared , sending the bill to your father’s account all while sending you an underlying message.

you shouldn’t have brought that maybank kid here.

“well , jj needed to get fitted too,” you smiled sweetly, “no harm done by comin’ in.” you were always deemed a nice girl. you were a nice girl , but there was only so much hidden snottiness you could deal with from certain people before becoming just as passive aggressive as them. “i’m actually going to go check on him,” you spoke , already turning to head back his way.

“she tells me we’re dating out of the blue , man! i don’t know what she was thinking , but she’s outta her mind!” you could finally hear jj’s cadence followed by marcus’ belly laugh.

“women,” he chuckled, “i’ll tell you right now , it doesn’t get any better. happy wife , happy life. get used to it , kid,” he advised the younger man , patting his shoulders before letting him know they were all done.

you stepped through the curtain , ignoring the tinge of hurt jj’s words caused in your heart while the metal loops glided across the curtain rod to announce your presence. “let’s go , jj.” you held your hand out to him , not giving him an option of taking his time. he could tell from the way your neck was stiff that something had upset you , so he wasted no time yanking his jeans back on. he didn’t want to be the reason for your cold attitude again. at least not for the rest of the day.

you dragged him out of the store , not sparing katherine a goodbye. you got in the car , buckling up as jj did the same before driving off in silence. it wasn’t long before you were driving through the streets of figure eight , being the only car on the road.

jj was poking around your glove compartment again , flipping through the owner’s manual to fill the car ride. he jumped and dropped the book to the floorboards when you let out a scream. he jolted and look over at you , watching the way your face nearly turned red from the air you were expelling from your body.

“yo , yo!” he shouted at you.

you took a deep breath , closing your eyes when you came to a stop sign. “sorry,” you mumbled , catching your breath still, “i just really , really dislike katherine! she’s so mean and snotty and two-faced! like , she was makin’ comments the entire time just poking at me!” you ranted , not caring that jj just saw you let out a scream you’d been holding in for about a week, “and don’t get me started on all of her implications about you.”

jj was still taken aback , not too sure what to say. he’d never seen you unravel like that before. he’d never thought you could. “um— well , at least we got it outta the way…” he tried to help the situation.

“yeah,” you nodded breathlessly , beginning to drive again like nothing had happened.

after a few more minutes of awkward silence , jj decided to speak up again , not forgetting what you tabled earlier. “boyfriend , huh?”

you sighed. you had forgotten about the conversation you still needed to have with him , so blinded by your frustrations. “yeah , so maybe my parents assumed that when i told them i had a date for midsummers last week , it was a boyfriend? and maybe i happened to leave that out when asking you to come with me?”

“oh , really?” jj feigned surprised, “i didn’t notice!”

“i’m sorry!” you cried, “but my dad wouldn’t stop bothering me about a date and then it all snowballed.” the pitch in your voice and pout in your lips made jj frown for a moment before focusing.

“i didn’t agree to playing house , princess,” jj reminded you , and your stomach dropped.

you pulled into the driveway , parking the car before shifting to look at him. “are you mad at me? you’re still gonna come to midsummers , right?” you needed him to say yes.

jj thought about it , not giving you any idea if he was backing out now or not. “five— no , six hangouts , and you have to come to a kegger,” he decided , nodding to himself. he felt like it was fair enough. if he would have to prance around figure eight as your arm candy for the next two weeks , you would have to start experiencing some of the cut. it was only right. a true balance he thought.

“but i don’t—“

“ah , ah ah!” he interrupted you , pressing a finger to your lips, “you’re not really in a position to negotiate , princess. i’m callin’ the shots now. if you want me to be your fake boyfriend for two weeks , i want you to start tagging along with the pogues. if not , you can just forget this whole thing.”

you stared at jj still surprised he touched your mouth. “i—“ you sighed , sitting back against your seat, “fine , but i’m not drinking or smoking or nothing.” you crossed your arms over your chest , making it clear you weren’t about to be pushed around on this anymore.

and he didn’t know why , but jj grinned. he knew this would all probably fall apart and cause a few problems— it was just what usually happened when he was involved in schemes , but he was excited. it would give him something to do for the next few weeks.

“pleasure doin’ business with ya , angel,” he smirked , climbing out of your car. he bent over , leaning down to the window. “now don’t just go around tellin’ everyone i’m taking your virginity or nothin’ either. i’ll play boyfriend , but i won’t have everyone thinking i’m corrupting father y/l/n’s precious daughter.”

your face crinkled up at jj’s words before you rolled up the window he was in. “excuse me?” you gasped , getting out of the car and rushing around to his side before smacking at him.

he laughed , blocking himself from the rapid but weak hits from your little purse. “i’m kidding!” he cackled , knowing it was a risky joke , but he had taken far greater risks with less rewards than pushing your buttons.

“you are so dirty , jj!” you huffed , getting one last thwack in at him, “maybe i’ll find a different date.”

“good luck with that,” jj breathed out , taking a step back in case you swung the bag at him again, “no one will put up with that little attitude of yours.”

“i do not have an attitude!” you argued back , flicking a few hairs out of your face, “you just make nasty comments.”

“jj , come on. we’re leaving!” he mimicked you , using his girl voice and waving his hands around, “that don’t sound familiar?” he questioned , hands on his hips after his performance.

you rolled your eyes , seeing that it probably wasn’t too far off. you weren’t blind to the fact that you were a little stuck up. it was never nasty or hateful , but you demanded a certain level of perfection from nearly everything in your life. “whatever , i don’t sound like that,” you finally spoke up , avoiding jj’s gaze, “thank you for showing up today.”

“you’re welcome , princess,” he smiled back , glad you were finally taking a joke, “i’ll text you whenever we’re gonna hangout,” he added with a thumbs up sent your way before hopping back into the twinkie. you watched him drive off before slipping back into your house.

jj couldn’t help but beat his thumb on the steering wheel to the radio’s tune , chuckling a little as he drove through the stop sign you were just screaming at. he’d missed so much of your life , that he hadn’t really gotten a good idea of who you were now. you were still girly and spoiled , but you were funnier than before— a natural humor that took control of your words and behaviors every now and then.

but then jj remembered why you were no longer friends , and his demeanor shifted , pissed off at himself for even saying yes yesterday to begin with. he knew this wouldn’t end well. john b said that last night after jj went to him about the situation too.

it was a disaster just waiting to happen.

hell , you were probably only doing this whole act to piss off your dad while still giving him what he wanted. the idea alone keyed jj up , feeling used now when he hadn’t thought to be before.

“yo , john!” he shouted , stomping into the house.

the brunette popped out from the living room , hardly moving from his position earlier when jj had left. “yes?” john b replied carefully , watching as jj kicked his boots off , clearly frustrated by something. he assumed it had to do with you , but had no idea what you could’ve done in two hours.

jj moved through the house , heading up to his room , hearing his friend follow him up. “you really think i’m gonna fall for that shit like i did last time?” he finally asked after shutting the door. he didn’t need any extra ears hearing his conversation.

john b furrowed his brows. what had you done to him? in two hours? “i don’t know , man. what happened today?” he joined his blonde friend on the bed , getting comfortable.

“so not only do i have to go to this fucking kook festival , right?” jj began , hearing john b’s quiet ‘you agreed to that’ but continuing to rant, “now i have to pretend to be her boyfriend! because she fuckin’ told her parents ‘bout dating me!”

“she what?” john b cracked up , not able to hold back his laughter just to spare jj some dignity, “why the hell would she do that? doesn’t her dad hate you or something?”

“yeah!” jj scoffed , silently thanking his friend for understanding.

“okay , but her mom loves you,” john b added , deciding he’d play devil’s advocate.

“yeah,” jj nodded , seeing the point, ��but we haven’t spoken in years , and now she’s all like ‘be my fake boyfriend’ and ‘go to the prom with me’ and shit!” parroting your voice like he had done in your driveway.

it wasn’t the time , but john b kept chuckling at his friend. “man , i think you’re reading too deep into it. she needed a favor. you’re helping her out. that’s all,” he reasoned , sitting up in the bed now, “i know i told you to be wary , but i didn’t mean get paranoid. don’t get your panties in a twist because you have problems and she doesn’t.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” jj questioned , not expecting john b to turn on him. sarah or kie maybe. cleo and pope definitely , but not him.

john b sighed , rolling his eyes at how oblivious his friend was. “you’ve got residual shit coming up right now pretending to be some kook’s boyfriend , dude. you’re gonna have to handle that shit before you take it out on y/n. she seems nice enough to not fuck you over like camille,” he calmly explained , standing to leave, “besides it’s all fake anyway.” the boy simply patted jj’s shoulder before exiting the room , leaving jj to process his words alone with the name he tried his best to forget swirling in his mind on a loop.

meanwhile , back at your house , your sister had brought her friend over upon hearing certain details about your life she wanted to ask you about. you didn’t even make it up the stairs to your room before bella and her friend , olivia , were harassing you.

“why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is jj? why didn’t you tell me you have a boyfriend?” bella shrieked in your ear , barging into your room after you. you sighed , tossing your purse onto your vanity before turning to face her.

“i didn’t tell you because it’s not your business,” you explained softly, “it’s not a big deal. i didn’t even want to tell mom and dad,” you admitted.

“wait— why not?” olivia wondered , sitting down on your bed with you and your sister.

“well , jj isn’t exactly dad’s favorite person,” you began , getting comfortable. you didn’t mind the intrusion from the younger girls. you actually enjoyed their company , so you had no problem telling them all about your errand with jj.

“but he’s sooo cute!” olivia whined , annoyed that you were so adamant about not actually liking him like that after you told them about the whole ruse.

“and he was always really nice to me,” bella added to their case. they were currently trying to convince you to really date him , even after telling them he never liked you like that.

you laughed at their interest but shook your head. “no , i don’t think i’ll ever actually date jj maybank,” you whispered , letting the words sink in. this was all fake. it was a favor. nothing more. you had to keep remembering that , or everything would fall apart , and you’d be stuck in high school , craving his attention all over again.

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