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cercandodiscrivere · 2 months ago

Text

Cadere | emperor geta x reader.

word count | 2.7k

warnings | 18+, infidelity / cheating, dark themes (mentions of war, death and murder), murder plans as part of sex talk, prayers, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.

synopsis | The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.

It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.

gifs by @whereisyourpippinnow.

“Dea, quae thalamorum custos es et coniugii praesidium, domum meam ab hostibus defende, me tua virtute sustenta.”

The voice, a low and steady murmur, seeps into the room like a wisp of warm air: Lucilla's prayer is not so much a plea as a soft-spoken lament, her words coated in a quiet sorrow that seems to echo throught the marble walls.

The words she whispers are unfamiliar, not part of the litany you were taught at the temple. Each request is carefully considered and every word is chosen with intention.

The last time you pleaded to the gods with such desperation, it was to beg for them to alter the path your father had chosen—but no divine messenger appeared in his dreams. The gods had greater concerns than the unwanted marriage of a young girl.

You wondered if they watched when your father confirmed Tiberius Aemilius Marcellus’ desire to wed you. If they knew the torment of leaving the sanctuary of the home you had grown in.

If they noticed how, even if you still tried to tint your prayers with the same devotion, they always tasted as sour as vinegar on your tongue.

“Virum meum sanum et incolumem redde, ut cor meum eius reditu gaudeat.”

The voice brings you back to the present.

Lucilla may have been careful with her words, but she showed little regard for the dove that she had her servants sacrifice. A delicate creature, even with its feathers stained red: an offering to Juno, the guardian of the household and of women. A gesture to secure your husbands safe return from battle.

You had anticipated a prayer to Mars, a tradition before men embark on glorious battles (although Tiberius, if he could hear your thoughts, would remind you that the true glory comes only after the brutality of war).

Lucilla appeared to share a similar opinion. "Leave it to the men to pray for war" she said when you had asked her. "We women pray for our lovers' safe return".

Affection is the closest thing to the sentiment you feel for Tiberius: more unbridled feelings are reserved for poetry and drama, not arranged marriages. He is a kind and devoted man, as is expected. As a Legate for the army, he ensures your safety: as his whife, your heritage secures the continuation of his bloodline—and that is all.

“Why not pray to Victoria, then?”.

“Victorious or not, let them come home alive—for if a man dies at war, sad is his wife’s fate”.

And with that, you knelt and bowed your head, listening intently as the woman begun her pleading.

The room is now filled with a dense and overwhelming aroma of incense; the scent clings to your throat, suffocating the air. As the smoke rises in coiling tendrils, it wraps around you, casting flickering shadows that dance along the walls.

The night outside is eerily quiet, the sound of men's laughter echoing through the walls: tomorrow morning, when the Emperors will bid farwell to the soldiers and their purpose, there will be no mirth.

The Emperors.

Your family had once been part of Settimio Severo’s court, your father a cousin to the imposing ruler. You grew alongside his sons—a past far enough that seems almost like a dream. Once, you used to hide with Caracalla to infiltrate the adults’ cenae, trying to steal wine without being seen. You would watch Geta as he trained, a lanky child with a gaze too serious for his age.

It has been years since they watched you leave, the bright nuptial flammeum still pinned to your hair. Now, all that remains to fuel your fantasies are fading memories and the echoes of laughter from the banquet; a grand celebration held by a General seeking approval from his Emperors.

One where lieutenants indulged in sweetened wine, losing themselves in its intoxicating spices.

A gathering not meant for women to attend.

“Pacem et securitatem mihi largire, et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere, ut sub tua misericordia vivere possim”. Lucilla’s voice falters as she finishes the prayer, the room falling into an unsettling stillness.

In the distance, someone shouts while others laugh. A servant standing behind you moves, her tunic brushing against the floor.

Lucilla's eyes quickly glance in your direction before she speaks. “Will you walk with me in the gardens?”.

To catch one last glimpse of our husbands is the implicit proposition; and while in every other situation you would never deny a woman of such high status, there is nothing you desire less—because catching a glimpse of Tiberius would mean seeing his domine. Your heart would not dare.

“Your request is kind” you answer, hoping your voice comes out as somber as hers. “But I have a son to go back to”.

You regret the excuse almost as soon as it leaves your lips, for the saddened look Lucilla gives you almost makes you stay. Out of all the things you could have said to her as you left her alone in the darkness of her home—filled with Acacio's men but devoid of any comfort for her—somehow it feels as if you chose the most hurtful one.

A moment later, her lips curve upwards in what could be considered a smile; yet it appears more like a mask meant to please others than a genuine reaction.

“I understand”.

Still smiling, she orders a servant to inform your litter carriers to wait for you at the entrance.

You bid Lucilla farewell with a respectful bow, one that she does not seem to register. Escorted away by her ancillas, you assume she will not walk through the gardens now that you are gone.

Indifferent to men’s affairs, the moon casts a silver glow — and yet the night is still too dark, too overwhelming to bear alone.

You should reach the entrance: but as you stand in the peristylium, your feet refuse to move. In the middle of the open courtyard, ecircled by towering columns, you can’t help but feel trapped.

Beyond the opposite wall lies the raucous dining hall, the air filled with laughts and shouts.

There’s music. There’s the sound of plates clattering and glasses clinking, accompanied by the occasional splash of wine that some drunken guests might have spilled. There’s footsteps, right behind you.

Footsteps. Behind you.

"Leaving so soon, without greeting the guests?".

You spin around, your breath catching in your throat —and there he is, just a few steps behind you. Geta.

Bathed in the moon's ethereal glow, his features are sharper than you remembered. You had always envisioned him and his twin as shining gold: gold like their crowns, gold like their coins and their brooches and the divine blood that flows whithin their veins.

Under the silver light, he instead emerges from darkness like a haunting memory from your past.

"Domine" you say as you lower yourself into curtsy—for an Emperor who speaks is one who demands an answer.

Even with your head bowed down you can sense how the ceremonious response displeases him.

"Ah, so formal” he remarks, his tone still teasing. “No need”.

His hand gently lifts your chin, straightening you. “I recall a time when you would refuse to bow before me, just out of stubborness”. A small grin appears on his face—and for the second time tonight, you can't help but feel that something is off about the smiles on everyone's faces.

“You would throw tantrums, and father would force me to apologise on my knees” you agree.

I miss those moments, you almost say—but it would make you seem too desperate.

Geta laughs openly, his hand still resting on you. He’s getting closer; you can almost smell the sweetness of the wine on his breath.

“It’s too early to be leaving” he says. “We haven't seen each other in years. It would be a pity to waste such a rare occasion”.

It occurs to you that you’re entirely alone with him now, and for just a moment you wonder if wandering the house alone was the best idea: your instinct is to give the same excuse you gave Lucilla—the longing to be in his presence so overwhelming it almost scares you.

…and yet, he wants it too. You cannot refuse an Emperor's request.

“You are right. My servants can wait a bit longer; catching up with an old friend is more important. Let’s talk, then”.

Geta laughs once more, his nose almost touching yours as his fingers gently rest on your cheek.

“Who said anything about talking?”

His lips meet yours a moment after.

It’s an insistent kiss, one that will leave your lips raw and red.

Instinctually, you reach up and twine your fingers into his hair while his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you even closer. The resulti s that you fell trapped again—between his warm body and the chill of the marble column—and for a breathless moment, you lose yourself in the feeling.

It’s the sound of something hitting the floor, distant but still uncomfortably near, that has reality crash back like a cold wave.

You pull away abruptly, your heart racing. “Stop” go on go on go on.

Geta leans back just enough to give you space to speak.

"Tiberius is on the other sideof that wall" your voice is trembling—fear, excitement, shame. "A servant could walk this way at any moment. This is madness".

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, as if your words hold no significance. "You recall" he says instead, "you recall when your father would demand that you apologize on your knees". He moves closer, but instead of kissing you again or pushing you to the ground, Geta shocks you by dropping at your feet himself.

His intense gaze used to be a serious one—almost too mature for a young and careless man—but now it’s wild, deranged. "If he let you stay, I would have adored you. Worshiped every step you took".

You do not respond to the delirious declaration, too dazed to do anything beside gasping for air.

“You look just as good as I remember” his voice is soft. “Charming. Sweet. Beautiful… a shame, to see you leave with a man so insignificant”.

As he speaks, his hand sneaks under your tunic, inching up and up and up as he stands.

“I… We can’t” you are not even sure if he hears you. Shame swirls in your loins, mixing with desire—and despite all reason, you don’t stop Geta as he pushes the layers of your skirt up to your hips.

He presses against you once more, his gaze never wavering from yours. He doesn't need permission; even he knows he already has it. He wants to hear you admit that you want him just as much as he wants you. He wishes for surrender.

You whisper his name, unsure if it's a scolding or a plea. He leans in closer, planting fiery kisses along your neck. His mouth sucks on your skin until you moan into the air above him, fingers tightening into ginger strands of his hair.

It’s too much.

It’s not nearly enough.

“Yes” you say. This time your voice is clear. “Take everything you want”.

“I will”.

With that as a last warning, he spears two fingers inside of you, finding you wet and wanting. You hold onto his shoulder tightly, your chest rising and falling with each breath as a loud moan escapes your lips, only encouraging him to continue.

You've shared nights with your husband before—but not like this, never like this.

"Please-" you gasp, trying to hold on to some sense of modesty while also giving in to the rough, demanding movement. His pace is fast and unrelenting, and the most careless of you eagerly surrenders to them in hopes of reaching release.

Geta's grin stretches across his face, victorious as if he has just won a fierce battle. “Oh, it would be a shame to leave you to that man”. His lips caress your ear. “But you won’t be with him for long”.

The worlds ring wrong, but you can't bring yourself to look away from him. You stand still, unable to move, overcome by ecstasy, destroyed by the intense passion that he effortlessly ignites within you.

“Battlefields are cruel. Soldiers get hurt” he continues, and his choice of topic is so strange that it snaps you back to reality. “It is not uncommon for a legate to lose his life in action”.

“What-” and it’s all you can get out before you're overcome with pleasure once again, completely helpless in its grip. You need more, need him, need something that will consume you entirely so you don't feel as dirty as you do in this moment.

Geta seems to understand. The fingers draw away; but before you can even register the loss, he aligns you with his cock and pushes inside.

You let out a sigh—in relief or shame or both—and his hand darts to your throat, not enough to cut off your air but just to silence your whine. The possessive way he grasps you only adds to your arousal.

“Yes, he won’t have you for much longer” he growls again. “I’ll make sure of that”. The confidence in his words is laced with lust: he exudes strength and control– yet, it seems that you have the power to unravel him just as much as he can unravel you.

The pace of his hips is bruising: almost too much to bear, but you can't get enough of it. He's claiming you as his own, branding you with every movement, inside and out.

“Tell me you are mine, just mine”.

“I am yours” you almost scream. “All yours, only yours”.

He lets out a rough groan, using the hand around your throat to grip your hair as he thrusts into you.

A thin layer of sweat has coated his forehead, furrowed brows and parted lips giving away his concentration. Whether it's the feeling of your burning flesh against his, or the whispered fantasies he keeps confessing to your skin, it has his body in a wreck of tension.

His lips leave your neck, chapped and red, his movements now erratic as he nears his impending orgasm.

He does not look at you when he comes: he rolls his eyes up at the dark sky, daring the Gods to judge him. You both dive into each other one last time, clawing, grasping, lost in fiery ecstasy that leaves you moaning beneath Geta as he empties himself inside you.

The act alone leaves you shaken, your back curved and legs trembling as you cry out at the top of your lungs. You hold onto his feverish and heated skin, so that when you come back to your senses the first sensation you feel is Geta—all over you, claiming you as his own.

He traces his fingers over your skin, and you feel completely undone. Spent.

As your heart rate slows and your breathing steadies, the sounds around you begin to resurface: the cacophony of laughter, gentle strumming of lyres, soldiers shouting at each other. You scan the peristylium, looking for any servants or guests meandering about.

“Hush, don’t worry” Geta says, redirecting your attention back to him.

He leans in closer, but instead of seeking another kiss, he simply rests his forehead against yours. “Soon, we won’t have to hide”.

He speaks of war again, and all the ways a man can perish: and as he does, a shadow creeps over his face, sinister and cold. You feel a chill run down your naked arms, this time not from shame.

Geta laughs and promises luxurious silks with precious jewels. He tells how perfect you will be by his side, in gold. How you will bear his heirs—and his alone.

The last time you dared to beg the gods for favour, you pleaded to be given to a man over another.

It seems just like a cruel joke how your wish was granted now—a jest that only serves to make you beg once more.

It’s true that you may never be as devoted as Lucilla is: and yet, as Geta pants beside you, her earlier words still echo in your mind.

Pacem et securitatem mihi largire [grant me peace and safety]

Et ne sinas me in bracchia malignorum cadere [and do not let me fall into the arms of the wicked ones].

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #gladiator ii fanfiction #emperor geta x you #geta x you #geta x reader

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empathicliar · 2 months ago

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⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱. ¸.•* 𝘵𝘰𝘫𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰.

-𝟏𝐤. 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 , 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝.

༺❀༻ || 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 , 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji , pregnancy , she / her pronoun's , brown skin reader , sex during pregnancy cause he gets down like that , dirty talk , no protection.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who takes offence in you opening your door on your own. hopping out of the driver side to run around the hefty BMW to open up that shiny black door. he's grabbing your hand to kiss it and helping you out of the car, eye's drifting to that pregnant belly of yours.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who loves walking around in public places with you clinging to his side. sick smirk on his face when another man passes. he loves making it known he's the one who knocked you up, the one who has you wobbling around like a penguin and the one who's most likely going to make it happen again after this one is born.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who massages your legs after a hard day at work, he's scolding you for being so careless. the whole point of him letting you go back to work was because of the sitting portion, now your complaining about the new pressure on your back you didn't think could get any worse. today was the last day you took allen on his offer of walking around and getting everyone's opinion on the new magazines.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who always kisses the exposed part's of your tummy when its in his face. the lightskin stretch marks laced with gentle ecstasy as each kiss leads to the opening of your supple thighs.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who says " sex is the best way to get a baby out. " only because he saw something you had been reading about. your not even due until another few weeks and he's already plumbing his dick into your cunt, face knitted from how tight you still are. " missed this little thing. " he's whispering to anything willing to listen.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who's back to being the nice guy after many rounds of tainted dances. your head laying on his muscled thighs to feel his presence. he has a how to be a good dad manual in his hands, reading it out loud for you to comment. " this shit says i need to change all the diapers, is that the deal? ", your nodding to play along with the joke and he's sulking from the thought of a shitty diaper.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who thought the research for getting that said baby out by sex was a joke and or a ploy for men to stay active in bed. you're almost a week over your due date when your hugging his shoulders in, the dirtiest mating press he doesn't even think he had you in when you weren't pregnant has him whimpering in your neck, sucking another hickey into the already bruising skin.

gasping, you can feel your eyes twitching when his thick tip prods at your mushy spots. – holding onto him, afraid he'll pull out before that sweet ball in your stomach can release. your squealing loud when he gently wags around in your pussy.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji who's standing in shock the next morning when you're both talking in the kitchen and water like fluid is dripping from and darkening your sweat pants. he's scrambling, taking double looks to make sure he was seeing the right thing. " toji, bag now. he's coming. " almost slipping on the amniotic fluid to run into the bedroom and reach the life saving bag, it takes a wing and a prayer for you both to reach the hospital.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji is holding your hand the entire time you're pushing, not daring to look at the birth of his son. he promised to be beside you, not to witness the mayhem happening below your belt... you're crushing his hand, face tutted with pain and he's trying to say something over the doctors who are talking amongst themselves to keep you calm.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!toji whos the first person other than you and the doctors to hold the beautiful baby boy in his arms. he has coiled black hair and it's already prominent its his son. he's sitting in the hospital chair in awe, scared to make a move in fear of hurting him.

" hey megumi... " he coos, undeniably in love again.

©𝙀𝙈𝙋𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙍 any sort of stealing or modifying is prohibited, mess with your momma not me.

#omg is that neemie? ✩#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen fandom #fushiguro toji #toji x you #toji smut #jjk toji #black reader #blktumblr #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji

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satori-runa · 4 months ago

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—The star of the night

Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.

Words: 2k

Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.

The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crème de la crème of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.

"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. “Not like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!” He gestured wildly at the set. “Any three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"

While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate design—each prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furniture—all meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.

To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actors’ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour he’d imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actress—the poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skill—was, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Does she even know her lines?” He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. “It’s as if she’s performing in a high school play, not…not this.” He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.

For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations you’d scouted, and the rejections you’d faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? You’d pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.

And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Reca’s sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldn’t help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracle—someone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.

Because if Reca’s mood didn’t lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.

Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Reca’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That look—oh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his “brilliant” ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.

“You.” He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. “You’ll be perfect.”

You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. “Me?”

“Yes! You!” He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticity—a complete lack of…training! It’s fresh. It’s real!”

“Reca, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense!” He cut you off, waving your protests away. “You’re exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actresses…they’re too polished. Too practiced. They lack that something—that spark of untamed potential that you have.” He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.

“But I’m just your assistant.” You stammered, feeling your face flush. “I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’d probably ruin the entire film!”

“No way.” He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if he’d already envisioned you on the big screen. “Think about it! You’ve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. You’ve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.

The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your character’s motivations—directly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights he’d spent hours cursing.

And as the camera rolled, with Reca’s wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldn’t shake the surreal feeling. You’d gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the role…all under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.

The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.

“Let’s run through it one more time, mon cherie.” He said, his voice softer now. “Off camera. Just us.” There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadn’t heard before—a subtle, unspoken invitation.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.

He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, his hand brushing yours. “Forget the lines, the lights. Just…feel it.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.

“Imagine…” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, “Imagine there’s no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.”

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadn’t seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscripted—almost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.

His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.

“Just us.” He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss you—not as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.

You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasn’t just acting. Not anymore.

And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.

Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.

You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breath…

He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. “Yes! That’s it! THAT expression—exactly what we need!”

You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. “Everyone!” He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. “Get ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture this—she’s got the emotion perfect, it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a little…lost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadn’t been what you thought at all.

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, you’d forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.

Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that he’d managed to get such an authentic reaction. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. “I knew you had it in you!”

“You know, Reca.” You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, “you played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Only did what any good director would do.” He replied, a playful edge in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. “Well, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.” You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. “You know…just to pick up where you left me hanging.”

For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps we will.” he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. “Only if you think you can handle a bit more of my…methods.”

Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than you’d thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little more…well, you couldn’t say you’d mind.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #mr reca x reader #mr reca #honkai star rail #honkai mr reca #hsr mr reca #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #mr reca fluff

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holybibly · 1 year ago

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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.

𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.

𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.

You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary," before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed.

Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives. The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner.

"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.

You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted.

It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair.

"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once.

The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.

There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.

The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.

One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.

As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.

"Hello, my dear."

You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."

"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.

Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.

"Something like that."

"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.

"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.

Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.

"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?

"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.

"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.

Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?

"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.

"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.

Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.

"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"

"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."

There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.

His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?

"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."

"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.

"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."

A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.

"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."

"F-Father…"

"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "

You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"

"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.

Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.

"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."

He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.

"Shall I show you?"

"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.

"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"

You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.

He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.

"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?

He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.

"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.

The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.

"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.

He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.

"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.

"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."

"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.

"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.

You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.

You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.

"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."

You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.

As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.

Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.

"You have to undress completely, darling."

You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.

"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.

You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.

"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.

"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."

The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.

"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.

"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.

"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.

"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."

You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."

It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.

"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth.

Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.

"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.

Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.

He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.

"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.

"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"

You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."

You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.

"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.

"Look at me, my darling."

Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.

Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.

"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.

"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.

"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.

God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.

From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.

He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.

He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.

"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."

You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.

He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.

His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.

"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."

He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.

"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.

"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.

All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".

"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."

Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.

You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.

"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.

You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.

Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.

"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."

You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.

"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."

"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.

"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.

"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.

"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.

"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.

You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.

The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.

He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.

"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.

With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.

"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."

He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.

Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.

And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.

"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."

From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.

"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.

"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"

You lowered your eyes in shame.

He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."

"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."

"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."

Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.

It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.

"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.

"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.

He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.

"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.

"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.

Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.

"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"

"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.

"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.

Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind. "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."

1K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

HELLFIRE

18+ / mdi

summary: whenever he was at a crossroads, seokmin always knew he could turn to god. however, with the recent thoughts you've been putting in his head, he's not sure god will show him the answer this time around.

content: virgin!seokmin, catholic!seokmin, religious repression, old fashioned and exaggerated catholic beliefs, very brief mention of homophobia, very conservative beliefs, a lowkey cult-ish view of catolicism oops, seokmin is veryyy socially awkward and not used to socialization outside of religion, his parents are super overbearing, lots of family tensions, seokmin has an estranged brother (jeonghan), conflicting emotions about god, sexual repression, reader is an atheist, afab reader, smut, dry humping, oral (m and f receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, etc.

wc: 13k

a/n: she's here!! i didnt write an outline for this and i kinda only focused on seokmin's pov for this which makes reader kinda look like she's trying to corrupt him for no reason lol but i promise its still fluffy and cute <3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Normalcy for Seokmin had always equated to the church. It was what he'd known since childhood and what he grew up surrounded by up until his current age.

His upbringing had been good by all accounts. Although he had an estranged brother who he didn't get to see too often, he had a father and a mother who cherished him like no one else. His financial means were also to be envied, as he was raised in a wealthy part of town and had always been surrounded by an upper class community – a heavily religious community.

This community was one that Seokmin always respected and cherished. Being brought up going from one private catholic school onto the next as he aged, Seokmin never knew anything other than the constant supervision of nuns and religious figures who would constantly guide him in the right direction (at least according to the bible). While others may think this lifestyle to be restricting, Seokmin knew it to be the proper path for a young man to follow. He never complained about the bi-weekly mass he had to attend with his parents, nor about the separation by gender that was mandated by his school. Seokmin knew all his prayers by heart and was sure of what his role in society must be. In short, Seokmin knew and did all things proper and by the letter.

As a young man (at the ripe age of 20), Seokmin finally found himself in a society that was not of catholic background. After transferring from a two year college in town (one centered around catholic studies, of course), Seokmin was now readying himself to move away from home in order to finalize his education in a fully co-ed institution for the following two years.

It wasn't like Seokmin had never interacted with people outside of the church (or with women in general). He was simply a bit on the shier side when it came to non-religious endeavors and usually only stuck by his religious community, which often abided by old-fashioned rules found in the bible. For instance, Seokmin had been so dedicated to the church that he would usually spend his free time volunteering at the church's food drive or performing with his church group at various family-friendly events around town. This meant that Seokmin's inner circle always consisted of people who had an almost identical ideology as that of his own.

Seokmin felt bad at admitting this (which was why he never vocalized these thoughts), but he could sometimes get a bit tired of the consistency of his life. It was a constant repetition of events surrounded by the same exact people time and time again. He never had any opportunity to be challenged or observe outside opinions, specially not with the constant supervision his community gave youth like him (something about wanting him to follow the right path unlike his older brother). Seokmin knew and trusted his beliefs, so he felt a bit infantilized whenever his own family would become overbearing while ensuring Seokmin didn't go off the rails like his brother had – his brother, who was still a quite a sore subject for him.

And now, Seokmin felt excitement. Knowing he would finally be able to explore the outside world and experience the last couple of years of his college life not under the watchful eye of his church. However, as a strong believer himself, Seokmin had still ensured he would have time to attend mass every week and maybe join a religious club on campus. Although he sometimes felt scrutinized by his family and community, Seokmin had never once faked his belief in God. I mean, it was all he had known thus far and all he felt he could really count on no matter what.

When the day to move into his dorms finally arrived, Seokmin had a difficult time hiding his excitement. His community had thrown him a goodbye party, allowing him to be the main focus of the night as one by one, every adult figure in his life bid their farewells accompanied by thinly veiled warnings to not fall into the bad habits sometimes found in non-religious communities. Seokmin was pure-minded at heart, so he took these warnings with a warm and heartfelt gratitude, knowing that despite his desire to expand his horizons, it was important he kept his beliefs safe.

Thanks to his parents, Seokmin had the fortune of being able to rent a room away from the dorms. His parents had insisted, claiming that dorm life could get quite rowdy and that a roommate who had not been pre-approved by them may give him a bad influence and lead him towards an unholy path. Seokmin, already slightly nervous about heading into the world on his own, agreed in order to give himself a safe space of solitude in case he needed it.

The apartment was pretty close to the dorms themselves, allowing Seokmin a calm commute in his bike every day for his classes. Thus far, he had been in the city for a week, still having a few days before school actually began. He had attended his church club already, meeting all the other members and scouting out who he may be able to befriend in the near future. Everyone seemed pretty much like the preppy rich kids he had grown up with all throughout his years of catholic school. There was a bit more of variety among the people in the club than back home, with the club allowing for co-ed inclusion of members (something which was quite common in church groups, though Seokmin had grown too accustomed by his non co-ed upbringing). They also seemed to come from different backgrounds, but ultimately Seokmin could tell that just like him, they were very likely brought up in a very coddled and comfortable way. This was how your presence in the club first stood out to him.

While everyone seemed very put together and happy to be there, you caught Seokmin's attention right away. Your visible discomfort was the first thing Seokmin noticed. Though you looked as nice and welcoming as anyone else, Seokmin could see that you seemed like a closed book. Your eyes did not light up the same as the rest of the members, nor did you actively participate in the icebreaker activities set up by the club. Seokmin also caught onto the fact that the other members already knew each other (likely from previous years at the college), while they treated you like a black sheep. And of course, Seokmin couldn't help but notice your appearance, which made it difficult for him to look away from you.

Of course, Seokmin had had female friends in the past. It's not like his church separated the pews by gender or anything like that. Seokmin was just slightly reserved. With his constant attendance at institutions that insisted upon gender separation at all times and very overbearing parents, Seokmin never really had the chance to form any type of relationship with any girl throughout his youth. He had teamed up with other female volunteers while working at charities and had even been in charge of showing new girls in the community around the church's premises. However, these were very isolated instances.

As of the past twenty years, Seokmin was yet to ever really think about women liberally. He was always taught that time for those things would come eventually, whatever that meant. It was something that had been repeated to him by both his parents, neighbors, the reverend, and even at some point by his brother (though his brother had said it in a sarcastic tone, which confused Seokmin even further).

And now here he was, sitting quietly across the room from you as he watched you in silence, barely paying attention to whichever new activity the group leaders were discussing for the first charity event they'd hold during the upcoming semester.

You were pretty. Seokmin could tell that much. His mind did not process anything other than your features for almost the entirety of the meeting, being far too occupied by analyzing every inch of your person as he unknowingly held his breath.

His eyes on you did not seem to catch your attention at any point, but they did catch the attention of a fellow member of the group who was sitting near him.

"You know her?", asked the nameless member.

"Oh, uh, what? No, I was just– "

"She's not really a member here, you know. Just kind of an honorary one, I guess."

"What do you mean?", he finally took his eyes off you due to his sudden interest in the conversation.

"Her parents pay for her tuition as long as she can prove she's an active member of the local catholic community. Apparently she just pretends for them, but her parents still somehow bought her way into the club", the guy lowered his voice to a whisper, "I heard she's an atheist, man. We just have to kinda ignore she's there."

Though Seokmin knew that his parents' immediate reaction to such gossip would be shock at the blatant disrespect you were showing towards your parents who clearly just wanted you to not stray away from the path of God, Seokmin was more annoyed at the guy who found it so easy to talk about you behind your back completely unprompted.

While Seokmin couldn't understand why someone would claim themselves atheist when it was so clear to him how life had been created, he still saw it wrong to judge someone for their beliefs. It was oftentimes that churchgoers back home would exhibit malicious intentions such as what he'd just witnessed from his fellow group member. You were clearly not bothering anyone and even looked pretty aware of the alienation the members were putting you through, so Seokmin couldn't help but feel sad for you.

He shyly shrugged off the guy who had made him privy to your information and went back to staring at you as you sat back and seemingly waited for the bi-weekly meeting to end.

Despite catching his curiosity that day, Seokmin did not end up having any contact with you, being way too shy to even hold eye contact with you as the meeting ended.

Days passed and Seokmin finally started school. He had to admit, he felt completely out of his league. Thanks to his parents, he was never properly socialized as a child. While most members of the church would have active social lives outside of their ministry (even going to public schools and participating in non-catholic leisure activities), Seokmin had always been confined into a box that only allowed him to interact with other heavily religious people. This was never a problem to Seokmin, who was happy to dedicate his life to the lord. Except now it was proving troublesome.

Since professors had a tendency to get liberal during discussions at times, he felt scandalized by many of the subjects spoken about during class. He also felt awkward interacting with other people his age, who would share very different beliefs from his own. Seokmin had even attempted to dabble into social media at some point now that he was not under his parent's' watchful eye, but even that had him feeling unseemly.

Overall, Seokmin felt embarrassed at how little life experience he had due to having dedicated his entire life thus far to serving both God and his parents. He was beginning to understand why his brother Jeonghan had left home as soon as he turned of age. He had always judged him for it, but his judgment was beginning to fade away.

Now that he no longer had his parents nor community around (much less his brother), the only comfort he could turn to was that of his nightly prayers.

His struggles continued for the following weeks, with Seokmin becoming a bit of an outcast in most social situations. He was quite outgoing in the church, but this was a completely different environment in which he felt ridiculous every time he tried to interact with people who had had far more social advantages and freedom than he did growing up.

Keeping a low profile had been easy to achieve for Seokmin. He decided after a few very awkward interactions that he would simply become an outcast and stick to himself, only ever interacting with his church club the few times a week they'd meet (though unfortunately never having the courage to interact with you). This seemed to work up until the second week of school, in which Seokmin's women's studies teacher informed the class they'd be doing a partner project for the entirety of the semester.

Seokmin had taken the class against his parents' wishes, feeding them with a white lie that it was part of the necessary curriculum in order to graduate. He argued to himself that this was a subject he would never be exposed to in his community, knowing his community to be slightly ... old-fashioned. This part of his life always made him embarrassed, – not really sharing many of the beliefs his community had tried to drill into him – so he wanted to atone for his lack of knowledge now that he was in a completely independent environment.

Teaming up with someone back home was always easy, as he was quite popular both in church and at school. Here, however, he had already given himself the reputation of awkward and overly dedicated to God – he had stated his devotion to God during the individual introductions they'd done on week 1, leading to low chuckles and uncomfortable looks from his classmates – which was something that the general population did not seem to like. He was avoided by his fellow women's studies classmates since then.

Sure, Seokmin did share a few old-fashioned catholic beliefs such as the necessity devotion to God and the importance of one's purity being kept until marriage, but he did not agree with any other bigoted beliefs shared by many catholic communities. He had genuinely taken this class with the hope to learn and expand his horizons, but most people in it had already decided that he must be a close-minded weirdo.

By some struck of luck, as Seokmin sat back, completely defeated while he watched other people stand up and enthusiastically find a partner, he suddenly heard someone clear their throat to call his attention.

It was you.

He hadn't realized you were taking this class too due to the high mass of students (about 100, give or take). And now he found himself looking up at you from his seat as you gave him what seemed to him like a confident grin.

"Hi, Seokmin," you sat next to him without so much as asking.

Your sitting position was troublesome for Seokmin, as he noticed the way in which your short skirt rid up as you crossed your legs and leaned towards him. You were wearing more revealing clothing today than any other time in which he'd seen you at the bi-weekly meetings. Your attire wasn't provocative by any means, it was just that you were always more covered up at the meetings. Seokmin assumed it might've been due to some scrutiny you may have faced by the members. This made him frown internally.

"Oh ... hi. Y-you know my name?", he sat up from his slouched position and faced his body towards yours, though he was too shy to meet your eyes for too long.

"Of course I do, Seokmin. We're in a church group together, remember?"

You carried a very confident and laid back air to you despite having only spoken to him for the first time just now. You also seemed much livelier than back at the confined room where his fellow church group members gathered. This was likely due to the lack of scrutiny you usually received completely unwarranted while at his church group's meetings.

"Ah, yeah, just, uh, didn't realize you noticed me."

"C'mon, Seokmin. You're the only person in there who doesn't look at me like I killed their dog. Of course I'd notice you."

He wasn't sure how to respond, but that at least answered the question as to whether or not you were aware of the gossip a few of the other members had let him in on.

"I'm sure that's not true ... I– "

"It's fine, really. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you if you'd like to partner up?", you suggested, completely unfazed by the mention of your judgmental group mates.

"O-oh. You want to? I mean, yeah! Of course," he couldn't help but feel relieved at the prospect of not having to meet with the professor after class to let her know he'd need her assistance finding a partner.

"Great. Here, put your number in my phone and I'll let you know when I can stop by your place so we can brainstorm," you handed him your phone as if nothing; as if you weren't suggesting going over alone to his apartment unsupervised.

He hesitated but gave you his number, flinching a bit when your hands accidentally touched.

"Thanks. I was thinking this Friday. Is that okay with you?"

"Oh, y-yeah. Sure," he mustered a toothy smile for you.

You giggled under your breath, "Okay, Seokmin. Looking forward to seeing you," there was a permanent smile in your eyes as you spoke to him, making him a bit giddy.

He bid his goodbyes back and finally let out a puff of air when you parted ways.

The rest of the class period was completely wasted to Seokmin. His mind was too giddy and preoccupied with thoughts of seeing you again, this time in a more intimate setting. The thought made him anxious, though he also felt some weird tingling he wasn't fully sure how to describe.

Did this mean you had noticed him too? Had he stood out to you in this huge hall? The thought made him shudder before regaining control of himself and starting to anxiously doodle on his notebook.

He snuck a glance over at the direction in which you left, now localizing your seat. You were talking to a few friends, which confused Seokmin greatly. This meant that you already had friends in this class, so why would you go out of your way to team up with him? Was his curiosity about you maybe mutual? This question would surely be all Seokmin thought about for the next two days until the two of you finally met up to discuss your project.

Seokmin saw you again the following day at second bi-weekly meeting of the week.

Once more, you sat back and said nothing, only bothering to sign your name on the attendance board at the start of the meeting and taking your usual seat away from everyone else.

Your attire was different from what you had been wearing in your women's studies class just a few hours ago. You had donned a long skirt and a long sleeve too instead of the tiny shorts he had seen you wearing previously. This change in attire made no difference to Seokmin, however, since he already knew what your bare legs looked like and could not prevent himself in picturing them as he stared.

Your presence had yet again proved to be incredibly distracting to Seokmin, who had already been thinking about you ever since you had suggested to meet at his place.

There was no one he could ask for advice about what to wear or what to do. His friends back home would frown at the thought of Seokmin even considering an unchaperoned gathering with a girl – especially an self-declared atheist who was simply pretending to be catholic for her parents.

His parents were also not a good option. Seokmin could just picture the gasp in surprise at the revelation that his women's studies class (one which his parents had called 'useless' and 'made up') had enticed him into bringing a girl home while no one else was around. He cringed at the mere thought of them attempting to intercept the situation by barging in and lecturing both you and him on proper relations between man and woman.

Seokmin knew he was overthinking all of this, but he had an internal conflict. On one side, he knew that this was just a regular meeting between classmates to discuss a project, but this was his first time alone with a girl (one he had a bit of a crush on, at that!) On the other side, Seokmin couldn't help but feel like he was breaking his parents' trust. They had explicitly forbid him from ever engaging in any type of relationship with any girl unless she was pre-approved by them (something which they'd already tried and failed at doing with Jeonghan). And on a secret third side of things, Seokmin felt like now that he was alone and untrained on what life was like in the real world, it'd be easy for him to fall susceptible to desire and betray God's word. He hadn't had any unbecoming feelings thus far, but his crush on you was enough for this fear to be instilled in him.

For now, Seokmin had the rest of his school day to worry about, so he pushed these thoughts aside and tried to draw his eyes away from your figure as he attempted to pay attention to whichever biblical lesson the group's assigned leader read from.

This was yet another biblical lesson Seokmin had heard time and time again. Despite his strong devotion to God, Seokmin always felt a little belittled at the constant repetition of teachings he had been hearing since childhood. Were his personal beliefs and devotion to God not enough? Why did he need other people to give him their own ideas of religion when he himself was an expert at all of God's teachings by now?

He related to your current situation in this aspect. Even if he felt comfortable in his religious stance, he had to join this club in order to prove to his parents that he was an active participant in the local religious community. He had to constantly deal with his parents' paranoia that he may stray away from God in the way his brother had. His constant assurance that his relationship with God was too strong for breaking was not enough for them; they simply couldn't help showing up in every corner of his life even as far away as he currently was.

Seokmin sighed at these thoughts and drew them away as much as he could. His mind was already preoccupied with thoughts of you coming over tomorrow evening.

That night he went home and prayed his anxieties away, turning to the only being he could possibly trust with his grievances.

"Hi", you smiled brightly at Seokmin, hands holding onto the handles of your backpack as you stood in front of his open apartment door.

"H-hey."

He stepped aside to let you in, wincing internally as he noticed the short length of the white dress you were wearing. He could tell by now that your personal style was more revealing than what you chose to wear at religious gatherings. He couldn't blame you, but he wished you'd cover up more for his poor sanity.

"Do you wanna do it here or did you wanna do it in your bedroom?", you broke him out of his train of thought.

"H-huh ? D-do what? Oh, oh! Yeah. I mean, here is fine. Unless you want to do it in my bedroom? I mean, do the work in my bed– yeah!"

He physically winced at his stupid thoughts; the dumb paranoia that this was more than a platonic study date had gotten to him despite having prayed to calm his nerves just minutes before your arrival.

Luckily for him, all you did was giggle under your breath and take a seat on his couch before taking off your backpack and settling your stuff on his table.

Dumbly, he stood there just watching you, catching sight of your dress riding up yet again in the same way it had two days ago in class.

You patted the space on the couch next to you, telling him to come sit, that you 'didn't bite.' The best response he could muster to that was an awkward chuckle and a follow-up on your instruction.

He made sure to leave ample space between the two of you, even making sure to avoid eye contact as he also pulled out a few notes of his own.

Without saying anything, you scoot closer to him, even turning to face him further, though still facing forward for the most part. Your knees were now bumping into his and your scent was near enough to invade his senses.

"Is this okay? Am I too close?", you asked when you noticed him stiffen.

"N-no. I'm sorry. I ... I'm being dumb. You're fine."

"Then how come you won't look this way?", you leaned even further towards him, making sure his eyes couldn't miss yours from his position.

He braved it and turned to face you, though his eyes were trained on your chin rather than your eyes. He now realized there was less distance between you than he thought.

"I'm sorry, I ..."

You interrupted him but grabbing his chin and gesturing him to look into your eyes.

"Do I make you nervous, Seokmin? You can look at me. You know that, right? It's not a sin to look into a girl's eyes", though your words sounded like mockery, your tone was as soft as your eyes.

He gulped and finally allowed himself to look at you. You were far too close now. Things had progressed too quickly, and in ways that Seokmin had thought were ridiculous to assume when he'd been going over the possibilities of your visit today. Yet here he was, eyes nervously staring into yours, trying their hardest to not lower to your lips or cleavage.

"You're exactly as I thought you would be," you started, hand moving from his chin to softly run your thumb on his cheek, "You're not like them. You're sweet ... But you're scared, aren't you?"

He didn't know where this was going, but your tone was soft and your words sweet so he nodded silently.

"It's okay to want things, Seokmin. Doesn't make you a bad person. You wanna please Him, though, don't you? Don't wanna disappoint Him?"

You were seeing right through him. It made him feel both understood but also like he was just as superficial as he thought the judgmental members of your church group to be.

"I just ..."

"It's okay, Seokmin. He'd want you to be happy. I ... I know it's meaningless hearing it from me, but He wouldn't want you to face this turmoil. You can give in. It's okay, I promise", your last words were said in the form of a whisper against his lips.

You were so close he could breathe you in, but his lips were unfortunately still not touching your own. This frustrated Seokmin, though it also relieved him. He felt way too heated to even engage in something as innocent as a kiss.

He knew that his first kiss would only lead to more. He had been so pent up all this years, shaming any desire away from his mind at every opportunity. He had never even pleasured himself, knowing it was frowned upon by God – at least that's the thought that was hammered into him since way too young an age.

He remembered the various conversations in which any thought of a relationship were verbally beaten out of him. He remembered the reaction of his parents when he had let it slip in kindergarten (his last year in a non-catholic institution) that he had a crush on the girl who'd been assigned as his new desk mate. He recalled the way his mom talked down on the four-year old girl, claiming her parents were not catholic and that she would be a bad influence on him. He remembered when his first phone was confiscated from him at fifteen when his father caught him watching the latest Twice music video at the time, claiming such things would lead him to impure thoughts. He remembered the last day he saw his brother two years ago right after a screaming match with his parents who had insulted and demeaned Jeonghan's partner, claiming he would burn in hell for his decisions against the lord's word.

With all these thoughts plaguing his mind, Seokmin let himself become numb to any spiritual consequences that would come from letting himself go. He found himself internally damning anything that wasn't your lips or the feeling of your hand on his cheek and sighed against you when you finally closed the gap.

Seokmin couldn't help himself in whining into your mouth when he felt your tongue tease his mouth open and begin intertwining with his own.

His arms were stiff against his sides and his lips far too shy and sloppy. It worried him that maybe he was not pleasing you in the way you did him, specially when you pulled away and spoke to him.

Your eyes were still on his lips and the distance between you remained small as you spoke up, "Follow my lead, okay Minnie? Let me show you .."

You kissed him again, this time slower and more sensual. It made his eyes roll back.

He took the hint and began moving his tongue in the same way yours did. He also shyly ran his hands up and down your back upon your wordless insistence that his arms wrap around your form. Following your instructions felt natural, though what you did next caught him completely off guard.

Your hands had snuck away from his cheek, with one now pulling at his hair (and making his eyes roll even further back in the process) and your other hand sneaking into his pants, touching him softly through his boxers.

He jumped back and accidentally disconnected your lips, gasping at the sudden intrusion.

"I ... I cant, I don't ..."

"It's okay if you don't want to, Minnie. I should've asked," you drew back a little, making Seokmin jump once again, but this time to make sure you stayed close.

"It's not that, I just ... I don't– "

"It's okay to want me. It's okay if you want this. We can stop if you want to, but ... you can want me ... You won't get in trouble, I promise."

Your lips were still close enough for him to reach, making him hesitantly grace them with his own. Thankfully you took the hint, giving him a wanton kiss that had him feeling dizzy.

He thoughtlessly kissed you back, whining any time you did something he particularly liked. You didn't attempt touching under his pants again, now simply sticking to running your hands up and down his clothed chest while his shyly caressed your back.

The kiss got heated pretty quickly, making him extremely light headed. He didn't know where this was going nor how he would feel afterwards, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

His thoughts were interrupted when your lips left his own and trailed from his cheek to his ear, licking and nibbling at his lobe before whispering in it.

"Is this okay?"

"Y– yes. Please ..."

Your kisses against his neck had him throwing his head back. If he was mindless before, he was fully without a care now. Even if his community ever found out what he was up to during his first month away from home, he didn't care in this moment. His guilt may come later, but for now all he could do was enjoy your kiss.

"Can I play with you, Minnie?", you pulled away and gave him a sweet peck before asking.

"You ... It's wrong, I– He'll ..."

"He won't know, Minnie. It's okay. It'll feel so good."

You hesitantly snuck your hand under his trousers once more, slowly enough to allow him to deny you should he wish to. His sinful desire for you prevented him from moving, so you continued until your hand was wrapped around him.

"A– ah ... Y– you ... I've never ..." he sighed.

"Never touched yourself like this before?"

"'s not allowed, I ... I shouldn't ..."

"It's okay. I'm just taking care of you. Nothing wrong with taking care of your needs, right Minnie?"

He felt mocked by how ridiculous it sounded coming out of your mouth. But he still felt guilt. Guilt at every moan that left his mouth as you slowly rubbed up and down his length. Guilt at the way he wanted your lips back on his. Guilt at how difficult it was for him to drag his gaze away from your soft mounds peaking from your cleavage.

One thing was betraying everything his parents had always warned him about, but betraying God's word made him feel like he'd burn up until the day he faced his punishment.

Except he couldn't bring you to stop. He couldn't prevent himself in mindlessly nodding at you and asking you to please not stop.

Suddenly you grabbed his arm, directing it towards your chest. You must've noticed his heavy eyes eyeing your cleavage and realized what thoughts had been going through his perverted mind.

"Wanna touch them? It's okay, just ... just squeeze, yeah? That's it, fuck ... You're so pretty, Minnie," you sighed oh so prettily as soon as he followed your direction and experimentally squeezed at your clothed breasts.

He moaned and moaned at both your touch on him and his on yours. But he began to panic when he felt himself heating up more and more, feeling like he would soon reach a crescendo that he would never be able to fall back from.

"It's okay, Minnie. Let go. Let go for me, pretty. I'll take care of you," you must've sensed his panic and shut him up with your tongue in his mouth, swallowing his whines of pleasure as his end took over him.

He had never felt such pleasure before. Every touch you gave him was better than the last, making him wonder what other sinful acts with you would end up feeling like. He shuddered at the thought and went back to the blissful state his high was giving him.

You kept whispering soft praises to him, telling him that it was okay and that he could let go. He hadn't realized that he was crying until one of your hands softly wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed softly at them. He felt more loved by your care than he ever had before. The seed of doubt was then planted into his head; why would such a loving an intimate act ever be seen as anything but holy?

He began to feel corrupted, but also conflicted on his thoughts on the matter. One thing he knew for sure, however; this would not be enough – he would seek you again and again.

After even more caring words from you, the two of you parted ways with no work done. You kissed him goodbye and told him you'd see him again soon. He responded shyly but you accepted it with yet another kiss and finally left his apartment.

That night Seokmin attempted to pray his conflicting thoughts away once more, but even then, Seokmin left mention of you out of his prayers, fearing that acknowledging your sudden and rapid effect on him would be the downfall of his purity and of the already strained relationship with his parents.

The following Monday, Seokmin saw you again at the first of the two bi-weekly meetings of your church group. As per usual, you sat alone on a corner while the rest of the club engaged in conversation with one another.

Seokmin chose to sit back once again, deciding to watch you from afar rather than participate in the conversation like he usually did, except this time you began to occasionally look back at him with a sweet smile. Your eye contact would cause him to look down with a blush, but after enough instances of catching your eye, he decided to shyly smile back at you. This proved to be fruitful, as you suddenly stood up and quietly walked your way over to him. Due to the conversation being led by the other group members, your new seat next to Seokmin went unnoticed, causing Seokmin's nerves to not flare up too much.

It was wordless but soft, the way in which you shared a seat with him and offered him yet another sweet smile. He felt giddy at having your attention in such a way. He was aware that he barely knew you, but having you become part of his life (in any way you may have wanted) made him feel a sense of pride he had never felt before.

The two of you spent the rest of the meeting giving each other shy smiles and playing tick tack toe on his notebook. When it was time to part ways, you finally spoke up and told Seokmin you needed to head back first, as your next class was far away. Seokmin wanted to offer to walk you, but was interrupted by another member of the group who called his attention – the same guy who had previously warned him about you. Due to the standoffish manner in which other group members behaved around you, you left awkwardly while Seokmin frowned and stayed back.

Slightly frustrated at not being able to bid you a proper goodbye (or walk with you as he had wished to offer), Seokmin's demeanor to his group mate was less polite than usual.

"What, are you two friends?", asked the member in a somewhat accusatory tone.

"I ... Yeah, maybe. Why?"

"I wouldn't advise that, Seokmin. She's a bad influence. I mean, you haven't been participating as much as when you first got here. It starts when you least expect it. Just don't want you to fall down a bad path."

"What bad path?"

"She was part of our faith at some point. Until she got corrupted, and now she just infiltrates our spaces like a nuance. She'll corrupt you in the same way if you're not careful. Take the advice, brother. Just don't get too close," and with that, he gave Seokmin a condescending nod and made his way out.

Since leaving home, Seokmin had forgotten how many churchgoers would cross boundaries without much care. How they would use the excuse of being 'sons and daughters' of God to be judgmental.

He saw no issue with your behavior. Maybe you had kissed Seokmin and maybe you had ... done other stuff to him. But you weren't a bad person for that. It wasn't like Seokmin stopped you (or even wanted to stop you). He wasn't sure why he felt so defensive over his groupmate's advice, but he couldn't help but be peeved off by this interaction for the rest of the day.

His mood stayed so sour towards his groupmate's harsh judgment of you that he had forgotten to do his nightly prayer before going to sleep, even forgetting to send a message with his blessings to his parents like he usually did.

The next morning he awoke to some overbearing messages from his parents inquiring why he had not messaged them the night prior. Seokmin was surprised at himself when his first reaction to their myriad of messages was to roll his eyes and lock his phone back up. He loved his parents, but his separation from them had quickly showed him how controlling they tended to be. But Seokmin realized it wasn't only them; it was the entirety of the puritanical and judgmental community he had grown up with.

Despite having only hung out with you once, you were already a breath of fresh air to Seokmin. You didn't judge him over his shy and socially awkward demeanor. He had a hunch that since you two belonged to the same church group and had likely had similar upbringings, you probably understood why he was the way that he was. Unlike everyone else he had met at this school so far (other than the other members of the church group), you weren't mean to him nor did you ever ignore him. You had seeked him out! The thought still gave him butterflies.

The two of you continued to casually hang out like this over the next week or so, though it usually tended to be only while on meetings with your church group or during your women's studies class.

Contrasting with your previous meeting, any time the two of you would hang out now mostly consisted of working on your project or getting to know each other. He had come to find out that you were here on a scholarship and that, as the nosy guy in your church group had stated, you were only attending the church group to appease your parents' belief that you should maintain some type of connection to God regardless of your beliefs in catholicism. You didn't get too much into it, but you also informed Seokmin that despite what the group members believed, you did not have a bad relationship with your parents due to your contrasting beliefs. This made Seokmin envious, pondering about how his parents would react should he ever find himself changing his faith.

Through the few times you saw each other in class, Seokmin grew to like you more and more. He knew now that he felt something for you that he had never before. He had a crush, for arguably one of the first times in his life. There were also more sinister feelings dwelling in his mind, however. Sometimes he would think back to that day alone in his apartment, when you took his innocence (though only partially). He wanted more, but he felt like he was simultaneously sinning and disrespecting you by even thinking about it. He still felt conflicted about last time, thinking himself a sinner and a bad son for disobeying both God and his parents, but he couldn't help himself in wanting more.

A few days later, Seokmin saw you yet again at your shared women's studies class.

Seokmin was completely unable to pay any attention to class today. Unfortunately for his sanity, you had recently begun to sit next to him every time the two of you shared this class. Seokmin had grown accustomed to sitting alone at the very back row of the auditorium in which your women's class was given. The first day he had sat next to a few people, but after mentioning his devotion to God during his personal introduction, he found people not only avoiding his eye and snickering at him but even going out of their way to sit away from him. You had been the sole exception, deciding to sit with him a few days after your meeting at his apartment, now smiling at him as you sat side by side.

Today, you have him more trouble than usual. You sent him flirtatious smiles during the entirety of class, even occasionally gracing your hand slowly on his leg. This had him shuddering and completely distracted, but he couldn't bring himself to stop you. You gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. While his mind before meeting you had always been dedicated to thinking of God and his duties as a member of the church, his mind was now fully occupied by you. As silly as it sounded, he had never felt the thrill of a crush before (specially not one that was reciprocated like this), and now he didn't know how to act.

"Hey, Minnie," you whispered to him as your professor lectured in the background.

"Y- yeah?"

"Wanna meet at my apartment after class today to study?", you now whispered right against his ear, finger drawing figures on his thigh.

"Oh, I– Of course," he coughed out.

You only giggled quietly in response and went back to paying attention to class (though still occasionally doodling cute hearts in Seokmin's notebook).

After class, the two of you walked together. Only a few minutes into your walk through campus, you slipped your hand into his. He was surprised by this, but allowed himself to squeeze yours back. His heart soared when you started swinging your intertwined hands back and forth.

Was this what romance felt like? The thought alone made Seokmin feel giddier than he had ever before. He relished in the simple act of holding your hand and felt pride any time you'd stop for a few seconds to say hi to some friends, never once letting go of his hand and even giving a quick introduction of his name.

You were quite literally heaven on Earth to Seokmin. He couldn't wait to get to know you even further.

Walking to your place took about half an hour, but it was worth it the moment the two of you stepped in and you immediately pushed Seokmin against the wall, stealing a kiss from him.

"Minnie ... Been thinking about you since last time ..." you kissed at his neck, pulling his collared neckline out of the way.

"Me too ..."

"Yeah? What'd you think about?", you paused to pull back and look at him, "You don't regret it, do you? Was I too much?", your tone was genuine, more genuine than he had ever heard anyone direct themselves to him.

"N-no, of course not. I've, uh, I wanted more ... Just .. was too shy to ask."

"Aw, Minnie. You don't have to be shy with me. We can do anything you're comfortable with," you shared a sweet smile with him before pulling him back in for a heated kiss.

This was only Seokmin's second instance in kissing you, – last time having been only over a week back – but he now found it easier to match your rhythm and play with your tongue in ways that had you humming against his lips. He wanted to give you pleasure in the way you'd given it to him. So far he felt like he'd been doing well with the kissing. You somehow walked him over to your bedroom without disconnecting your lips, making his heart speed up at the thought of what was coming up next.

He yelped against your lips when you pushed and straddled him on the bed, hands too shy to know where to touch. Fortunately, you didn't leave him hanging for long and positioned them on your waist for him.

"Minnie ... I don't wanna pressure you. So we're gonna do something similar to last time, yeah?"

He was of course in agreement, but ...

"I ... I wanna make you feel good too ... Please?", he almost winced at how pathetic he sounded. He also had absolutely no idea of how to please you. He had never even considered watching porn (being told he'd go to hell for even entertaining such thoughts), nor had he ever received any type of sexual education. As lame as it sounded, Seokmin was completely clueless as to what women did for pleasure. He had been clueless as to how male pleasure worked up until you had shown him.

"Do you want me to teach you how, Minnie?", you asked while unbuttoning his shirt.

"Please ..."

You kissed him again in response, wordlessly taking off both his and your clothes. When you finished, Seokmin couldn't help but feel exposed. However, the thought of his own nudity (sans his boxers) left his mind as soon as he realized you were also down to just your underwear.

With his mouth agape and his arms not knowing where to go, Seokmin simply sat under you and sweat bullets as he attempted not to stare anywhere below your chin.

Noticing his nervous demeanor, you giggled at him and put your hand on his cheek while the other remained on his shoulder.

"Oh, Minnie ... So pretty. Do you even know how pretty you are?", you ran your hands up and down his chest in a sweet manner, "And I'm the only one who gets to see it, hmm? All mine?",

"Y-your .... yes ... for you."

"Fuck. I'm gonna have so much fun with you. Gonna teach you everything."

Despite your words' effect on him, his main focus right now was your almost bare body and its proximity to him. He could feel the heat of your skin against his. His mind kept thinking about what you must look like beneath your underwear, with his eyes heavy and glued to your covered breasts.

"Want me to take off my bra, Minnie? You just have to ask. I'll go as far as you want to go," you pecked his lips yet again, still running your hands up and down his chest.

"Y-yeah. Wanna see you. Is that ... is that okay? Just wanna make you feel as- as good as you did me ..."

Your breath hitched, "Oh, angel ... So sweet and selfless. I'll show you. Fuck, I'll show you everything."

You separated yourself from him a bit in order to give him a full view. Then, in slow and sensual movements, you threw off your bra, proceeding to caress your own breasts as you gave Seokmin a sultry look.

Fuck.

What type of teachings were preventing him from seeing you in your barest of forms? You were nothing lesser than art itself. You were so warm and beautiful; so soft and perfect – both inside and out. Seokmin couldn't believe he had ever considered such things to be scandalous (which admittedly, he still kind of believed). At the same time, he was kind of glad he had never engaged in such acts before, because it allowed for you to be the first (and hopefully last) woman he would ever see in such an intimate setting.

Those thoughts aside, Seokmin was short-circuiting. He was so distracted he didn't even notice you removing your panties and settling back on his lap until you verbally called his attention again.

"Minnie? Wanna feel them? Hmm?", your hands were already on his, leading them directly to your soft mounds.

"F-fuck," he couldn't help but groan upon feeling the weight of them on his hands, "you're so beautiful ... Y-you're, oh fuck-"

Words could not express the unimaginable beauty he was witnessing, nor the arousal he felt at having you so bare and willing in front of him. He didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to react. He felt kind of bad at his wordless state, but he couldn't help being speechless at feeling such pleasure from merely seeing you.

"Like this, Minnie. Just- fuck ... yeah, like that ..." you instructed for his thumbs to play with your nipples, even making him pinch at them. Your sighs and the way you arched your back were enough for Seokmin to want to leave everything behind and dedicate his life to your pleasure.

"K- kiss them? Please, Minnie ..."

He took your order immediately, leaning down to kiss around your nipples, glasses fogging from the close proximity to your skin.

Your sighs intensified and your hand moved to angle his head so that his lips would land on your nipple. Taking the hint, he enveloped your pert nipple in between his lips and sucked, licking and nibbling at it as he saw fit. Eventually he lost himself a bit, allowing his hands to fondle your breasts desperately as he whined into your breast. Your whines for more made him lose his mind, leading to his mind fogging up even more.

This progressed for a while until you finally moved his head away from your tits and stole a wet kiss from his lips.

"You're so good, Minnie. So obedient ... Such a good boy for me," you breathed against his lips, wiping his foggy glasses before slipping them back on.

He physically keened at your praise, not at all used to being praised for such filthy behavior but still extremely pleased he was making you feel good.

"Now ... now I'm gonna show you how to make me feel good, yeah? Still wanna try that, angel?"

He nodded too enthusiastically, glasses coming out of place due to his enthusiasm.

"Okay, baby," you giggled, "Need you to kneel on the floor for me, okay? Right between my legs ..."

Oh. You wanted him to-

He had never explored his sexual desires in any way, so he was fully unaware where exactly this was going, but the thought of looking up at you while he made you feel good between your legs sounded like the holiest act known to human.

He followed your direction, groaning when he saw the hidden space between your legs glisten.

"Oh, God ..."

"Shh, don't use the lord's name in vain, Minnie", you were just teasing, but somehow the reminder of his lord made Seokmin feel a small pang of guilt at the thought of the sin he had been actively committing with you thus far. He decided to push it aside and continue on his path. Nothing mattered to him more right now than your utmost pleasure.

"Lick it?" you used your fingers to open up your folds, letting out even more honey for Seokmin to gawk at.

Wordlessly he got closer and closer, up until his tongue was able to flick at the length of your folds. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding at the taste of your essence, becoming instantly obsessed with its warmth. What he was even more obsessed with, however, was the whine you let out at such a simple touch.

Was it possible for him – an inexperienced and sheltered boy – to make someone like you – a gorgeous and clearly knowledgeable girl – feel this good? He needed to test the theory so he kept licking to his heart's contentment, following the directions your hand gave him as you guided his head against you.

He licked shyly at first, only sucking every now and then as he did his best to act accordingly to the sounds you were making. It didn't help that his mind was plagued by your taste, smell, and the warmth between your legs – not to mention your mewls of pleasure.

"My clit, baby ... Your tongue, angle it here- oh ... fuck, right there, Minnie ..." you angled him so that he could flick his tongue at a tiny little pearl found between your legs.

With all the newfound knowledge he had on how to deliver your pleasure, Seokmin did the best he could to repeat the movements you seemed to really enjoy (at least based on how prettily you'd cry his name after). Despite his mind being completely clouded by the entirety of your person, Seokmin continued to moan and cry against your cunt as he silently begged for more of your cunt against his face.

"M-minnie! Oh ... Fuck. Such a g-good boy ... All mine, shit ... Your tongue, oh ... just like that, angel ... Y-your nose, Minnie, please! Your nose, just- oh! Fuck", you cried for him, at some point taking full control and just grinding against his face as his nose and tongue poked into your most sensitive spots.

Seokmin felt incredibly proud at your mindless state, knowing it was him who had achieved that. Nothing mattered more in that moment than your pleasure; pleasure which only Seokmin could give you.

"Gonna cum for you, angel. Lick it all for me? Be a good boy and take it for me, yeah? Shit!", you practically vibrated against him as your high took over you.

Seokmin kept his face between your legs as you came, doing his best to lick at every single drop of essence and moaning at the taste of you. He allowed you to use his face as you saw fit, reveling in the knowledge that he had given you such other-worldly pleasure.

He didn't know it was possible for him to feel such pleasure from just watching you, but now he understood. If anyone asked, this was what heaven was supposed to look like – a beautiful girl losing herself to Seokmin's touch as he himself tried not to lose his own mind.

Throughout the entirety of your orgasm, Seokmin couldn't control his hips as they ground against the bed with a complete lack of rhythm, simply humping animalistically at you taking over every single one of his senses.

After a few moments of aftershock, you suddenly pulled Seokmin up and attacked him with a filthy kiss; filthier than any you'd shared before.

Your kiss alone had Seokmin struggling to keep himself from cumming in his boxers. You had been testing his self-control from the moment you teased him in class earlier today and he just wasn't sure how much longer he could take until pleasure took over him once again.

"Want me to try it on you, Minnie?", you asked once you pulled away from the kiss.

"That? O-on me?"

"Mhmm. My mouth on you? Is that okay?", you pecked his lips again, seemingly unable to disconnect from him for too long (which Seokmin thoroughly related to).

"Yes", he deadpanned, still out of breath from being suffocated by your thighs and then your lips just moments ago.

You wasted no time in removing his boxers. Seokmin felt slightly shy at this, having never let anyone ever see him nude before. Even last time he had been with you, you had pleasured him through his clothes and not seen past his shirtless state thus far.

But you praised him as soon as he was fully nude, kissing up and down his thighs as you told him how beautiful he was, how pretty and deserving of praise you believed him to be. His whole body heat up at your soft words, with goosebumps forming at your soft kisses that led up closer and closer to where he was aching the most.

He gasped when you finally took a hold of his member, bringing your face close enough to give the weeping tip a kiss.

"O-oh ..." he threw his head back at the sweet yet filthy gesture.

You giggled under your breath and began kitten licking at his tip, sucking lightly every so often. He felt like he had finally arrived to heaven. All those stories about what awaited his good behavior while on earth must've been lies, because he found the greatest reward of all in the form of your mouth wrapped around him.

Getting braver by the second, you put almost the entirety of him in your mouth, doing things with your tongue and lips that his poor brain couldn't even process. He whined and cried at your movements, not able to understand how easily you could bring him to tears.

As he quickly neared his high, his mind turned into mush, not allowing him to register what was going on with his body. All he knew was that his cries got louder by the second, his cheeks now damp with the tears that wouldn't stop falling from his eyes. His hips were uncontrollable, having to be restrained by your hands as he chased for his high with the utmost desperation.

"P-please! I need ... Fuck, please ..." he begged for nothing in particular as his high completely took over.

He felt dirty and disrespectful as he did it, but he came inside your mouth, wincing at the way your moans vibrated while he was still in your mouth. He couldn't help himself; his thoughts had been completely overtaken by the pleasure.

His cries had not stopped as of yet, even rendering him emotional as the high of his orgasm wore down. Now was the moment of regret, knowing he had broken his unspoken oath of celibacy yet again.

This was something all people in his community swore to. It was rarely ever spoken about, but Seokmin knew that he was supposed to save himself for marriage – in every sense. Despite already having quite strong feelings towards you and the things you did to him, Seokmin still felt like he had somehow disrespected you by engaging in such acts with you. But more than anything, he felt like he had disappointed God.

So he cried. He cried into his hands despite how embarrassed he felt at doing such thing in front of you, specially after having shared such intimacy.

"Oh, Minnie ..." you coo'd at him, getting up to hold his large frame in your arms.

You allowed him to exhaust his cries as he quietly asked for forgiveness. He didn't have to explain himself, as you understood. You made your understanding evident by reassuring him that he had done nothing wrong, and that he was still such a good man.

He believed your words and thanked you, eventually calming down enough to stop crying and speak coherently.

"Do you ... do you think He'd be disappointed in me?", he knew it was a stupid question to ask considering your lack of religion. The two of you had never thoroughly discussed religion with one another, but he knew you at least understood where he was coming from.

You pouted at him, cooing at him as you responded, "Of course not, Minnie. He loves you. You're such a good boy; treat everyone so kindly even when they don't deserve it. Treat me so kindly ... No matter what anyone ever tells you, what we just did is no sin", you explained.

"B- but the bible-"

"Shhh. Your faith is your own. No one can take that away from you, Minnie. Even if I don't share those beliefs anymore, I know an amazing person when I see one. You've done nothing wrong, okay?", you caressed his cheek and pecked his lips to drive your point home.

He nodded as he tried not to tear up at your kindness.

Him even questioning his actions' consequences on his faith would've provided him with a scolding from his parents or a look in disapproval from his reverend. But in turn you gave him acceptance and love. There was no way in his mind to believe that being with you – feeling good with you – was anything other than the holiest act he could engage in.

"Do you regret it?", you interrupted his thoughts.

"N-no, of course not ... It's just ..."

"I'd never want to make you do something you don't wanna do. I ... I know we haven't known each other for long, but I like you, Seokmin. I don't want you to think I'm just trying to ... corrupt you."

"You're not!," in a change of pace, he grabbed onto your hands and looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, "Everything you've taught me, I've wanted it too. I ... I like you too."

You smiled at this, squeezing his hands affectionately, "Yeah? Does that mean you wanna keep hanging out?"

"Yeah, I'd love that."

Unfortunately, time for Seokmin to go home eventually came and he bid his goodbyes to you.

The two of you spent a few hours after your heart to heart actually working on your project and later watching a few episodes of a show you said you'd been watching on Hulu. It was a nice time for Seokmin to get to know you outside of school, and it only reinstated how much he liked you already.

It was about 10PM by the time he got home, which was usually around the time he went to sleep due to the early hours of his classes the following day. Almost as soon as he finished his nightly skincare and prepared himself to go to sleep, he suddenly got a call.

It was odd for him to get calls in general, but this time around he knew who it'd be before even checking his phone.

It was his parents.

Seokmin had seen this coming. He had gotten too into his head this past week; too into you. Not only had he neglected contacting his parents as frequently as they had agreed (re: every night in order to 'keep a close eye on him'), but he had also been neglecting his religious duties. He had not kept contact with any of his religious friends from back home nor had he even attended church as of late. And surprisingly ... Seokmin had not minded these recent developments. He felt freer than ever. For the first time in his life, he was not under constant surveillance, receiving judgment for any instance in which his parents believed him to step out of line in his religious lifestyle.

Back home, a single absence from bi-weekly mass would be met with passive aggressive disapproval. Any instance in which Seokmin expressed interest in anything outside of the church (such as non catholic music and dance – both of which his parents had immediately shut down), he felt as if he was breaking a law at the way in which his parents would scold him for ever even considering such 'perverted' hobbies.

Upon moving away, Seokmin had begun to realize that his upbringing hadn't been as perfect as he had thought it to be, that his parents didn't love him as unconditionally as he first thought. He thought back to his brother's estrangement from his family and felt regret at not standing up for him, knowing that his parents would turn on him just as fast as they did Jeonghan.

With a sigh, he picked up the call, mustering as much interest as he could. He made some excuse as to why he had been unable to keep in contact and promised to be better moving forward. He faked a smile in his voice and forced his way through a peaceful call (sans the few passive aggressive comments his parents threw his way) and called it a night.

For the first time in his life, he put religion and his parents aside to give himself a restful sleep, only looking forward to seeing you the next morning and going to sleep with the remembrance of what the two of you did fresh in his mind.

"Oh ... I- please ..."

"Just like that, Minnie, fuck ... Don't move, angel. Just let me do all the work, yeah?", you ground against him even faster, angling your hips so that his member would grace against your clothed folds.

It seemed like the dam had broken for you at the same time as it had for Seokmin, because you had jumped him the very next time he made his way through the threshold of your apartment.

The two of you kissed until exhausting yourselves, leading Seokmin to beg you to undress both you and him (with pleading eyes rather than verbally, as he was still too shy to beg for such things with words).

It was only one day after you had given Seokmin oral (a concept which you had introduced him to), which somehow made Seokmin even more desperate to have you. Even after his parents' call ruining his mood, you had managed to bring it back up immediately after when you messaged him late at night suggesting the two of you meet up today. After spending the entire day together, Seokmin walked you home yet again, only to be jumped by you (once again) upon entering your apartment.

One thing led to another and Seokmin found himself fully unclothed under you as you ground against him through the thin layer of your panties. Seokmin was completely weightless under you, becoming a shell of his old self as he desperately guided your hips to grind against him. He wasn't sure where this would lead, but he felt the usual conflict that always arose when the two of you were alone like this. Even through all your reassurance, Seokmin felt as if he was betraying an oath by engaging with his sexual desires for you. However, these thoughts were immediately pushed aside when you leaned back down to kiss him again.

The kiss was nasty, for lack of a better word. Seokmin didn't fully realize it, but his desperation for your touch would sometimes render him into a sloppy kisser, but you seemed to not mind it as you moaned and licked into his mouth any time his kisses got a bit messy. Your grinding got more and more intense by the second, throwing your head back at the way Seokmin senselessly canted his hips against your own.

"M-minnie ... Want more ... Is that okay? Just need to feel you so bad ... Please ..."

"M-more?"

"Do you want it too, Minnie? Wanna know what it feels like?"

"Show me? Wh- Oh ..."

"You want it too, don't you? Hmm? You're so hard against me, angel. Don't you wanna feel me?"

"I just ..."

Before he could formulate a response through the lust that was clouding his mind, you suddenly brought one of his hands between your bodies, going behind the forbidden threshold of your underwear. Anxious but also incredibly turned on, Seokmin fell limp and allowed you to do whatever you wanted. You grabbed his middle and pointer fingers, angling them so that they could seamlessly slip between your folds. Though Seokmin had already felt the wetness between your legs the day prior, he had not properly felt just how warm and tight you could be.

"Oh, it's so ... Fuck," he moaned when you began guiding his hand so his fingers could go in and out.

"Shit, Minnie ... So good ... Wanna feel it now, angel? Will you give it to me?", you slipped his fingers out after proving your point, now going back to caressing his cheek with your own hand.

"B-but ... It's a sin ..." he let out before even realizing. Even with your constant reassurance up to this point, Seokmin still felt ties to his faith that made him second-guess himself.

He knew that he had already gone past certain point with you, and that having sex with you wouldn't make much difference in his morality, but he still thought of all the teachings of celibacy and all the censorship his community had forced onto him. Was this the right choice? His body was screaming at him to let himself go and seek his high from you. His mind was telling him similar things, though there was also emphasis on the fact that doing this with you, of all people, would be the best choice he could ever make.

"Angel ... It's okay to want it. You don't have to be scared ... I'll take care of you. Just wanna be close to you, Minnie. Don't you want that too? Hmm? Just like you so much, angel," you kisses softly at his chest as you said this, breaking his resolve.

And you were right. He wanted this so badly. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to give himself to you in the most intimate way he could.

"Y-yes. Want you so much ..." he was shy as he said it, but he meant it to the fullest extent.

You proceeded to sensually remove your underwear, sitting back down above Seokmin's dick as you made a show of grinding your nude pelvises against one another, making Seokmin cry out in desperation.

Any doubts he had left him as soon as you allowed his tip to slip in, throwing his head back as he finally felt your warmth envelop him. You let out a variety of expletives at the feelings, all while clawing at Seokmin's chest, something that had his back arching in unexpected pleasure.

"Oh, Minnie ... So full, f-fuck ..." you moaned out, taking on a slow yet deep pace that made Seokmin shut his eyes and scrunch his nose.

Seokmin couldn't describe the pleasure you were giving him. He was practically frozen in place, the only part of his body still conscious were his hands, which were likely bruising your hips from how hard he was digging his fingers onto them. He needed to keep himself grounded, but he truly felt like today was judgment day, and he had gone to heaven.

"Open your eyes, angel. Wanna see you," your hand reached over to his cheek, angling his head so he could look your way rather than keep his head in its thrown back state.

He opened his eyes to find you smiling down at him with the light hanging on your ceiling providing the best view of you possible. You looked like an angel gazing down at him, like you came down to give him the greatest ruin and drag him back up with you. You had corrupted him in the best way possible.

"Oh, Minnie ... So beautiful. My prettiest boy ... Does it feel good, angel?", he nodded and let out a whine at your soft inquiries, "Yeah? How's it feel when I do this?", you squeezed around him, now bouncing rather than grinding against him, making him close his eyes back up and cry out your name.

"I- Please! I need ...", his nails clawed at your hips and back, begging for something unknown to him. He needed more, but he wasn't sure of what.

"I know, pretty. Gonna give it to you, just- fuck ... Just need you to be good for me, yeah?," you hiccuped, leaning down to kiss him again.

He cried against your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue began dancing with his own, your hands reaching down to toy with his nipples. You were giving him too many things at once, making the overstimulation take over his already hazy brain. He didn't care about any moral repercussions to what you were doing together. Every time you touched him further solidified how right being with you felt.

Only a few moments of your ministrations were enough for Seokmin to feel that familiar coil begin to tighten. He knew his end was near, causing him to grow restless as he planted his legs on the bed and humped against you. Despite his lack of proper technique and the sloppiness of his movements, you matched his own and wailed his name.

Your hands came down to bring his up and pin them above his head, grinding deeper and deeper against him as the two of you crazily chased your highs. The bed shook against the wall at the intensity of your actions, with nothing but nasty sounds of your muffled moans and your arousal filling up the silence. Eventually you disconnected your lips, eyeing the string of spit that connected you before burying your head in the crook of his neck.

"I- I like you so much," he groaned out, high-pitched and breathless.

"Like you so fucking m-much! You have no idea ..." you reciprocated his words as you clamped down around him and let yourself be taken by your high. Your high was more than enough to trigger his own, leaving him in a practically astral state for a few moments as his hands ran frantically up and down your body, squeezing and scratching every so often.

When your highs finally wore down, you laid yourself beside him, cuddling him near you so you could wrap your legs around him and bring him as close as possible. You faced each other as you caught your breaths, running your hands along the length of his back as his own rubbed at your hips. The moment was pure bliss.

"Do you regret it?"

"No. I could never regret anything we've done. I- I'm sorry if I made you feel that way," he looked away from your eyes.

You nudged him to look at you once more, "Don't apologize, Minnie. I understand. I'm happy I was your first. Maybe one day I'll teach you even more fun things," you flirted through a giggle.

"Oh, I- Hah, yeah", he was caught off guard by your flirting, but still laughed along.

Yeah, he wouldn't mind that.

Over the following weeks, Seokmin did a better job of keeping up with his parents. He kept a safe distance while still giving them the belief that he was still fully engaged in the religious spaces they had envisioned for him. However, he could not help but lie when it came to what occupied his day to day life – you. He didn't bring you up, which you agreed upon after a tearful conversation in which Seokmin detailed his upbringing, leading you to spend the night up with him as you comforted him. He was also yet to attend mass again, and he even occasionally skipped the bi-weekly meetings of his church group – though only when you skipped also. These were a few of the things he kept secret from his family – advice from his brother Jeonghan, who he had recently gotten in contact with again.

Seokmin's faith was still standing; his relationship with God was slightly injured by his internal conflict about your sexual relationship, though he was now sure that he felt no regrets at anything the two of you had engaged in. To him, being with you felt like the biggest reward he could have ever hoped for. Seokmin realized quickly that his issue really laid with the catholic community in which he had been brought up, rather than his relationship with God itself. He disagreed with the judgmental and overbearing way in which certain catholics circles ran, something which he distanced himself from upon meeting you.

You had even introduced him to a few of your friends, some which were even catholic like him. Your buddy Joshua was one of the chillest guys he had ever met, yet his faith was pretty intact. This made Seokmin feel less guilt, though his balance between what was right and wrong in the eyes of God was still a bit of a mess. Luckily he had you help him navigate his way through that.

Along with all these developments, Seokmin had also begun speaking to his brother Jeonghan again (behind his parents' backs, of course). It made him happy to know that despite his brother straying away from his community, he had ended up happy with his life, leading a steady relationship and being happy away from his parents' constant religious persecution.

And you ... You had become official in these past few weeks, making Seokmin constantly have to pinch himself to confirm whether or not he was imagining all this. He was still a very shy and awkward individual, usually opting to hang out alone with you in either of your apartments. He appreciated how patient you were with him, never judging him for being a bit different and even teaching him the pleasures he had been missing out on during his very restricted upbringing. You had become a piece of heaven on earth to Seokmin, corrupting him, but only in the best of ways.

a/n: i left so many things unresolved here oops but all i cared about was seokmin's character development and we got there in the end so! anyways hope u guys enjoyed!!

To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 587 (teaser); 2080 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Seokmin was, yet again, at a crossroads. Though this time it wasn't anything too serious, or maybe it was.

By current time, it had now been four months since the two of you had begun dating. 'I love you's' were shared and multiple sleep overs were had. Your relationship had been everything anyone could hope for a first relationship, and Seokmin now felt way more at ease whenever the two of you did anything sexual.

Admittedly, Seokmin was still slightly awkward about it, still never allowing himself to start sexual interactions and simply following your lead. Which was the crux of his current predicament.

He was unsure if he had done something wrong, if he had maybe insulted you or maybe there was some other unknown reason behind, but it had been over a week since the two of you had slept together. Over the past four months, the two of you spent most of your nights together, taking on a very domestic routine within the first two months of your relationship. Though you obviously didn't get down to sexual activities every day, it was common for it to happen a few times a week (at the least).

It usually began with you cornering Seokmin against the wall after a tiring day of college, or sometimes it began during a movie night in which you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. Whatever it was, you were always giving Seokmin an opening to entertain his sexual desires with you whenever he pleased. Even though he was always too shy to ask, it was almost as if you were able to read his mind and always incite him when he needed it most.

His sexual desires for you had grown quite a lot, making Seokmin worry at times. Was it normal how badly he wanted you at all times? Was this a consequence of having never before received pleasure until meeting you? He felt like a degenerate sometimes, from how badly he wanted you. Which was the main reason as to why he grew antsy so quickly after not having sex with you for the past week or so.

In contrast to these past months, this past week and a half (nine days to be exact; not that Seokmin was keeping count or anything), you had not given Seokmin anything further than a sweet peck on the lips whenever the two of you fell asleep next to each other. You didn't act any differently past that, still showering him with love and spending as much time as you could with him.

It wasn't that Seokmin expected sex from you or anything, but ever since you had taught him how pleasurable it could be to have a romantic partner, he could not see himself ever going back to his old, puritan lifestyle. Seokmin had become, for lack of a better word, an addict. He couldn't help himself in desiring you every time he caught an inch of your bare legs or the soft skin of your breasts through your cleavage. He had deprived himself of sex for far too long and now he could no longer live without it.

He didn't want to seem desperate, or as if he only valued you for sex, but he needed to get to the bottom of this and find a way to get you to touch him again. He was far too shy to ever ask you directly, but he would work his hardest to entice you into letting him have you again

...

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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