#would love to finish one of these someday
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“… and be sure to report any further unusual tectonic activity. Dismissed.” Bats finally finished the report. Why was he here? Right the first five minutes had been about the possibility of magic having been used. This really should have been an email he just ignored or left Zatanna to deal with. Bunny girl was better at feigning interest than he was after all. “John, Zatanna if you would both remain.”
Damn the brat. Why did the inter dimensional brat decide today to bug him? John knew he could pop up at literally any point in time like it was normal. It was revenge. For what offense he didn’t know. Or maybe he hadn’t even done it yet. Stupid fifth dimensional traveling.
“… stantine. CONSTANTINE.” “Bugger off.”
“John.”
Shit. Okay first names were bad with the cape. Like find a new existence and disappear off the face of the planet bad.
“Right sorry mate just, distracted.”
“The fact that an eldritch horror from who knows where was hanging off you like a scarf actually had some effect on you? You must be getting sentimental in your old age.”
“Love we both know that if it was weighing on me I wouldn’t be around to talk. You wouldn’t be either.” John had some respect for Zatanna. She was a good mage. Understood the proper importance of a cigarette and a blokes need to keep up appearances. Usually at least. “Got a cig?”
“Those will kill you someday.” The disapproval and sarcasm rolled off her tongue as smooth as the honeyed lies the lass would use with magic. John wanted to quip back but settled for a death glare as the big bad bat threatened to perfect his own death glare on him. Why did the bat have to be such a stickler? Rules rules rules. Rules don’t save lives when they shackle you from good. Damnit. Why were all the big dogs so damn… good?
“Hrm.”
Right the bat. The bat that right now probably wanted to string him up by his ankles and let the archdemons sort out how to cut him into nice even thirds if his damned rules didn’t stop him. Why did he have a cigarette?
“Uh bats?”
“Hrm.”
Just as loquacious as always that cape. Keep that thought inside. Definitely keep the thought inside. Especially as you take that stupidly expensive cigarette.
“Thanks. I could really…” The cig was hard. It was candy. The bat almost had an actual expression under the cowl, there was the slightest tightness of the lips. A smirk. He was smirking. ”You know what? Fuck you.” The fake cig crunched in his mouth. It actually tasted pretty good. Not that he was going to ever let anyone know that. “I’m going home. Hopefully to eat my leftovers. The brat isn’t a threat. If you want to know just ask the lass about the between or the Infinite. Or better yet go ask Grundy about The Protector.”
God he needed a drink. And a smoke. And maybe another drink. John was pretty sure that his food was gone too.
“How old is he?”
Dammit lass. Why did you always know just what to say? “14…. I think.” John replied stopping at the door to the stupid tech magic tubes that Supes had insisted on. “He’s some other world’s hero.”
The lass had to think on that one. Not every day you meet an alternate. “Is he… okay?”
“He’s doing alright. Insists his parents couldn’t understand though, so he always carries it alone. Protects people that way, or so he says.” John finally let himself laugh. It was a fitting description of most of the capes who worked with the league. And himself. If he was generous. Pity he couldn’t afford to be generous with himself anymore. “I’m just his fallback. And debit card.”
“It would do him some good to meet others. If you can invite him to the next picnic.”
John blinked slowly. Then turned. The Bat had a smile. A proper smile. Soft and understanding. How? The man was almost certainly just a mass inhuman muscle and brains with the bare minimum speech capability bundled into a bat suit. “I’ll make sure to offer it. But he’s still weird about his… abilities.”
“I’ll get him added to the budget.”
“Budget?” Now this was sounding promising. While the league did pay it wasn’t much more than rent for the closet he used to access the house.
“For young heroes or metas under league guidance. One of the points Bruce Wayne insisted on when he decided to find us officially. So they have a safe place.”
“I’m a safe place?” John’s incredulity was finally outweighing his paranoia. A hefty feat considering even he considered himself to be 90% paranoia by volume.
“Sure sounds like it mate.” Only the lass could say something so damning like it was a good thing.
“{Guess so}” Why did he understand the grunt? Are the grunts some secret dad cape speak? Why was he suddenly qualified for…. Nope. Nope. He’s going home. Sleep liquor and maybe a bit of tele. No he wasn’t tearing up. And no one could see his face to tell you otherwise.
Danny has met Constantine.
Constantine has a coat.
Danny regularly pops out of it to say hi or when Constantine calls him for something.
Nobody in the JL knew this, so when Danny popped right on out in the middle of a meeting.
Well.
#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#john constantine#John is Danny’s safe place and a provider of food he doesn’t have to put down again#And he’s really not sure about this assigned role#But the house treats him like it treats John#Maybe even slightly better#So he can’t really hid it#And well#from what Danny says about his life?#John really doesn’t want to anymore#Because no kid should have to fight the eldrtich horror that satan built hell to keep out#And then have to go to highschool again in the morning#John anytime he thinks about this kid and what he must be going through: I got to help this kid not become an eldritch horror#danny every time he’s interacting with John: he’s my adopted fun uncle and I have to mess with him while Benny hill plays in the background
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god forbid - OSCAR PIASTRI
pairing: altar server!oscar piastri x pastors daughter!reader
summary : the indulgence in sin wasn't new to y/n, it never has been- but to oscar? he was as pure and innocent as a doe, the thought of sinning never even crossing his mind. but then again, everyone has to sin at one point, right?
warnings/notes : swearing, homoerotic tendencies between alexandra and rebecca, mentions of drinking, smut, sacrilegious themes, unspecified branch of Christianity, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!!), corruption, masturbation, improper use of hairbrush handle (iykwim), praise kink, use of "good boy", oral (m!receiving), edging, overstimulation, manipulation (if you squint)
word count : 18.1k
a/n : a very long and self indulgent fic HAHAHAH (please let me know if i missed any warnings, i lost count while writing)
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Y/n took a deep breath, steadying herself before stepping up to the altar. The church was filled with the familiar faces of her congregation, including her best friend Alexandra who had just finished delivering the first reading. Y/n smoothed her skirt and adjusted the microphone, her eyes scanning the pews until they landed on her father, the pastor, watching her intently from his seat.
She cleared her throat and began, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him."
As Y/n continued to read, her mind began to wander despite her best efforts to focus. Thoughts of her secret rebellious side crept in unbidden - the parties she snuck out to on the weekends, the alcohol she experimented with, the boys she flirted with behind her father's back. A thrill ran through her at the riskiness of it all, even as a twinge of guilt pricked at her conscience.
Y/n's eyes met Oscar's as she continued reading, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing intently on the words in front of her. Oscar, with his innocent eyes and pure heart, was everything Y/n wasn't. He never drank, never smoked, never even looked at a girl the wrong way. Her father adored him, always going on about what a fine young man he was, how he might even make a good pastor someday.
God, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew she should be happy for Oscar, proud of his devotion and goodness. But instead, it made her feel even more like a fraud. Like she was just playing a part, pretending to be the perfect pastor's daughter while hiding her true, sinful self.
She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her temple as she struggled to concentrate on the reading. Her eyes darted to Alexandra, who sat primly in the pew, the picture of innocence. But Y/n knew better. She knew about the wild parties they attended together, the boys they flirted with and sometimes took home. The way they would pass a guy back and forth, tossing him aside when they grew bored.
It was thrilling and exhilarating, a rush of power and control that Y/n craved. But here, in the church, surrounded by the pious faces of her congregation, it felt dirty. Shameful. She imagined what her father would think if he knew the truth about his precious daughter, and a wave of nausea washed over her.
Y/n swallowed hard and forced herself to focus on the words in front of her. She couldn't let anyone see the turmoil raging inside her. She had to keep up appearances, no matter the cost. Even if it meant burying her true self deeper and deeper until she hardly recognized who she was anymore.
She hurried through the final verse, her voice wavering slightly as she rushed to finish. "But each one is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desires. Then when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death."
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of her own hypocrisy. Y/n stepped back from the lectern, her legs shaky beneath her. She glanced at her father, hoping he hadn't noticed her momentary lapse. But his eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene and untroubled.
As Y/n made her way back to her seat, she caught Oscar's eye once more. He gave her a small, encouraging smile, his faith in her unwavering. Y/n felt a pang of guilt, knowing she didn't deserve his trust. She slid into the pew beside Alexandra, who leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"Nice job, girl. You almost had me worried there for a second." Alexandra giggled, her breath hot against Y/n's cheek.
Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her lips brushing against her friend's ear as she whispered, "Why the fuck is this the Bible verse chosen for today? It's making me feel so guilty."
Alexandra smirked, her blue eyes glinting with mischief. "You didn't feel guilty making out with that guy last night," she purred, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Or when you downed like, five shots in a row. Live a little, Y/n. God knows you deserve to let loose sometimes."
Y/n bit her lip, torn between her desire for freedom and the crushing weight of expectation. She knew Alexandra was right - she had spent the night before tangled in a stranger's arms, lost in a haze of alcohol and lust. But here, in the sanctity of the church, it all felt so wrong.
They turned their attention to the altar, watching as the altar servers busied themselves with the communion preparations. Oscar was among them, his movements precise and reverent.
Alexandra leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, did you even remember that guy's name? The one you were making out with last night?"
Y/n furrowed her brow, trying to recall the hazy details of the previous evening. "It started with an F, I think. Frank? Franco?" She shrugged, the names blurring together in her mind.
Alexandra giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Typical Y/n. Always leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty beds wherever you go."
Y/n poked Alexandra in the side, eliciting a small "ow" from her friend. "Hey, don't forget, you aren't that innocent either, you know," she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I saw you making out with Rebecca last night."
Rebecca was a member of their church choir, known for her sweet voice and demure demeanor. The thought of her locked in a passionate embrace with Alexandra sent a thrill down Y/n's spine.
Alexandra shrugged, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Rebecca just wanted to try on my new lip gloss. You know how curious she is about makeup."
Y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure, and I'm sure that's all it was. Just two innocent girls experimenting with cosmetics."
The two girls stood to join the congregation in singing the hymn. As the familiar melody filled the air, Y/n noticed Alexandra's gaze locking with Rebecca's across the church. The two exchanged heated looks, a silent conversation passing between them that spoke volumes.
Y/n leaned in close to Alexandra, her breath tickling her friend's ear. "Save the eye-fucking for outside of church, will you?" she whispered, a playful edge to her tone.
Alexandra shot Y/n a quick, apologetic smile before turning her attention back to the hymnal. But her eyes kept straying to Rebecca, a flush creeping up her neck.
As the hymn continued, Y/n found her own gaze drifting towards Oscar. She couldn't help it. There was something about him, something pure and untainted that drew her in like a moth to a flame.
Maybe it was the way her father spoke so highly of him, always going on about what a fine young man he was. Or maybe it was the way Oscar's innocence seemed to shine through in every action, every gesture. An innocence that Y/n suddenly found herself wanting to corrupt.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts. What was she thinking? Oscar was off-limits. He was practically family, for God's sake. And yet, the more she tried to push the idea away, the more it took root in her mind.
Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched Oscar from beneath her lashes. What would it be like, she wondered, to be the one to introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh? To watch that innocent face contort in ecstasy as she guided him through his first forbidden experiences?
She continued to sing along halfheartedly, her mind wandering as she imagined how Oscar would sound. Would he moan her name softly, breathlessly? Or would he cry out in ecstasy, his voice echoing off the church walls? She pictured him flushed and panting, his body glistening with sweat as he reached his peak.
The vivid fantasy caused a shiver to run down Y/n's spine, and she had to bite back a moan of her own. She was so lost in her lustful thoughts that she barely registered her father's voice booming through the church, calling the congregation to sit down.
Y/n settled into her seat, her eyes immediately seeking out Oscar. He was standing near the altar, his posture straight and attentive as he listened to her father begin the sermon. She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together as she tried to ignore the growing ache between her legs.
"Calm down," Alexandra hissed, giving Y/n a pointed look. "Your dad's starting his sermon."
Y/n nodded, trying to focus on her father's words even as her mind raced with thoughts of Oscar.
"Temptation is a powerful force," her father intoned, his voice ringing out through the church. "It can lead us astray, cause us to stumble and fall. But we must resist, my children. We must hold fast to our faith, even in the face of the greatest temptations."
Y/n squirmed in her seat, her father's words hitting a little too close to home. She knew she should be paying attention, should be taking his message to heart. But all she could think about was the way Oscar's lips might feel against her skin, the way his hands might explore her body.
"Temptation comes in many forms," her father continued, his voice booming through the church. "It can be the lure of wealth, the promise of power, or the allure of the flesh. But we must be vigilant, my children. We must guard our hearts and our minds against the wiles of the devil."
Y/n reached into her small purse, fishing out a piece of candy she always kept on hand for long sermons. She and Alexandra often found their blood sugar dropping during the lengthy services, making it hard to concentrate on her father's words.
She unwrapped the candy slowly, trying to be discreet as she popped it into her mouth. The sweet flavor burst on her tongue, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. But even as she focused on the sermon, her mind kept wandering back to Oscar.
"Temptation can come from the most unexpected places," her father said, his voice rising with passion. "Even those we trust, those we love, can lead us astray if we are not careful. We must be on guard at all times, my children. We must be ready to resist temptation whenever it rears its ugly head."
Y/n shifted in her seat, her thighs clenching together as she tried to ignore the throbbing between her legs. She knew her father was right. Temptation could come from anywhere, even from someone as innocent and pure as Oscar. But that didn't make it any easier to resist.
She felt a jolt of electricity run through her as her father mentioned her name and the Bible verse she had read earlier. She glanced over at Oscar, catching his eye. He smiled at her, his expression warm and friendly, but Y/n couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if that smile was directed at her in a more intimate setting.
"My daughter Y/n read from the book of James earlier," her father continued, his voice ringing out through the church. "She spoke of the dangers of temptation, of how it can lead us astray if we are not careful. Let us all take heed of her words, my children. Let us all strive to resist the temptations that may come our way."
Y/n squirmed in her seat, her mind racing with forbidden thoughts. If anything, hearing her father speak about temptation only made it easier for her to imagine giving in to her desires with Oscar. She pictured him bending her over the altar, his hands roaming her body as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
She found herself zoning out, her foot bouncing restlessly on the floor as she struggled to focus on her father's sermon. She couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar was staring at her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was as if he could read her mind, as if he knew exactly what kind of filthy thoughts were running through her head.
But instead of disgust or judgment, Y/n saw a flicker of something else in Oscar's eyes. Something that looked suspiciously like desire. Could it be that he wanted her too? That he was just as tempted by her as she was by him?
The thought sent a thrill of excitement through Y/n's body, even as a small voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful. She knew she was playing with fire, entertaining such forbidden fantasies. But the temptation was just too strong to resist.
Y/n tore her gaze away from Oscar, closing her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She could feel Alexandra's concerned gaze boring into her, and she knew she needed to say something to appease her friend.
"I have a stomachache," Y/n mumbled, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. She knew damn well that it was everything but a stomachache that was causing her distress. It was the throbbing ache between her legs, the desperate need for release that consumed her thoughts.
Alexandra frowned, leaning in closer to whisper in Y/n's ear. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're about to pass out."
Y/n forced a weak smile, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. Just need some fresh air."
She stood abruptly, ignoring the surprised looks from those around her as she made her way towards the exit. She needed to get out of there and clear her head before she did something she would regret. But even as she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that Oscar's eyes were still on her.
Y/n slipped out into the garden near the chapel, desperate for some fresh air and a moment to collect herself. She could still hear her father's voice droning on from inside, his words washing over her in a distant, muffled blur.
She sank down onto a nearby bench, her head spinning as she tried to catch her breath. The scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils, but even that couldn't distract her from the persistent ache between her legs.
Y/n tuned back in to the sermon every now and then, her father's voice rising and falling as he spoke of the dangers of temptation. But his words seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.
She felt lightheaded, dizzy with a heady mix of shame and desire. She knew she shouldn't be having these thoughts, especially not about Oscar. But she couldn't help it. The temptation was just too strong to resist.
Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she sat alone in the garden. The rest of the Mass passed by in a blur, her father's voice fading into the background as she struggled to calm her racing thoughts.
She closed her eyes, focusing on the gentle breeze that rustled through the leaves overhead. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her nostrils, a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.
But even as she tried to find peace in the tranquil surroundings, Y/n couldn't shake the image of Oscar from her mind. His innocent face, his kind eyes, the way his lips curved into that perfect smile. It was enough to drive her mad with desire.
Y/n shifted on the bench, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.
As the Mass ended, Y/n heard footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to see her father, still dressed in his pastoral attire, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Y/n, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. "I saw you slip out during the sermon. Is everything okay?"
Y/n forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside her. "I'm fine, Dad. It was just really hot in there, and I wasn't feeling too well. Stomachache."
Her father nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well, if you're not feeling better, why don't you head home and rest? I can finish up here."
Y/n shook her head, determined to stay and make amends for her absence during the sermon. "No, I'm okay. I just need to pray the rosary, to make up for the time I missed."
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright, but if you start feeling worse, don't hesitate to come home and rest. Alexandra has your purse, so you can swing by their place to pick it up on your way."
Y/n thanked her father, watching as he turned to greet the other parishioners. She knew she should head inside and pray, should try to cleanse her mind of the impure thoughts that plagued her. But as she stood up from the bench, she couldn't help but glance towards the church, wondering if Oscar was still inside.
With a sigh, Y/n made her way toward the church entrance, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She knew it wouldn't be easy to resist temptation, especially with Oscar so close by. But she had to try, had to prove to herself and to God that she was stronger than her baser instincts.
Y/n made her way to the front pew, the chapel eerily quiet save for the occasional chirp of a bird that had snuck in through the open windows. She knelt down on the cushioned kneeler, the cool stone of the church floor pressing against her knees.
She began to pray the rosary, her fingers moving mechanically over the beads as she recited the familiar prayers. But even as she tried to focus on the words, her mind kept wandering, her thoughts straying to Oscar.
She pictured him kneeling in front of her, his head buried between her thighs as he devoured her with his mouth. She could almost feel his tongue lapping at her most sensitive parts, could almost hear the sounds of his pleasure as he discovered the taste of her.
Y/n bit her lip, stifling a moan as the fantasy played out in her mind. She knew it was wrong, knew that she was defiling the sacred space with her impure thoughts. But she couldn't stop, couldn't tear her mind away from the image of Oscar worshipping her body like it was the Holy Grail.
Y/n prayed harder, her whispers turning into full-voiced recitations as she tried to drown out the sinful images flooding her mind. But it was no use. The more she tried to focus on her prayers, the more vivid the fantasies became.
In her mind's eye, she saw herself and Oscar tangled together in the bell tower, their bodies moving in a frenzied rhythm as the church bells tolled overhead. She imagined him bending her over the altar, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her again and again.
And then there was the confession booth, the small, dark space where sins were laid bare. In Y/n's twisted imagination, she was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around Oscar's hard length as he groaned in pleasure.
The images were so real, so vivid, that Y/n could almost feel the phantom sensations on her skin. She squirmed on the kneeler, her thighs clenching together as she fought the urge to touch herself right then and there.
Tears began to well up in Y/n's eyes as the guilt of her lustful thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She had never felt so ashamed, so dirty, so utterly consumed by a sin that she knew was wrong on every level.
But even as the tears spilled down her cheeks, Y/n couldn't deny the truth of her desires. She wanted Oscar, craved him with every fiber of her being. The thought of his hands on her body, his lips against her skin, was enough to drive her mad with need.
Y/n bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tried to pray for forgiveness. But the words caught in her throat, choked off by the intensity of her longing.
She knew she was damned, knew that she was straying further and further from the path of righteousness with every passing moment. But she couldn't seem to stop, couldn't seem to find the strength to resist the temptation that called to her so loudly.
As Y/n finished her prayers, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to compose herself. But just as she was about to stand up and leave, she heard a noise coming from behind the altar.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she peered around the edge of the altar cloth to see what was going on. There, in the dim light of the sacristy, she saw Oscar emerging from the changing room.
He was in the process of taking off his robe, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, her eyes tracing the path of his happy trail as it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
Oscar seemed oblivious to her presence, humming softly to himself as he hung up his robe and adjusted his shirt. Y/n felt like she should look away, should give him some privacy. But she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from his body, mesmerized by the sight of him.
He emerged from the sacristy, his eyes lighting up when he spotted Y/n kneeling in the front pew. "Hello Y/n!" he greeted her warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Are you okay? I saw you walk out during the sermon earlier. Everything alright?"
She quickly wiped away any remaining tears, trying to compose herself. "Y-yes, I'm fine," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being caught off guard. "I just needed some fresh air, that's all."
Oscar nodded understandingly, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to gather his things. Y/n's eyes couldn't help but trace the contours of his body as he moved, the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders, the way his pants clung to his muscular thighs.
She felt a familiar heat building between her legs, a desperate ache that demanded to be satisfied. It took every ounce of willpower for Y/n to tear her eyes away from Oscar's form, to focus instead on the crucifix hanging above the altar.
Oscar gathered his things, glancing over at Y/n with a curious expression. "What are you still doing here, by the way?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I've been cleaning in the back for about thirty minutes now. Shouldn't you be at home resting by this point?"
Y/n felt a pang of guilt at his words, realizing just how long she had been sitting there, lost in her own twisted fantasies. "I...I was just praying," she mumbled, her eyes downcast. "Trying to make up for leaving the sermon early."
He nodded, his smile softening into a look of understanding. "I get it. Sometimes we all need a little extra time with God." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But don't forget to take care of yourself too, Y/n. God wants us to be healthy and happy, not run ourselves into the ground."
Y/n smiled at Oscar, grateful for his concern. "Thank you, Oscar. That means a lot." She stood up from the pew, smoothing out her skirt as she prepared to leave.
"I should probably head over to Alexandra's to pick up my purse," she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "I'll see you around?"
Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he returned her smile. "Sounds good, Y/n. Take care of yourself, and I'll see you soon."
Y/n turned to leave, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked down the aisle of the empty church. She could still feel Oscar's gaze on her back, could still picture the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the images from her mind. She had to focus, had to get to Alexandra's house, and retrieve her purse before her thoughts spiraled out of control again.
Y/n made her way to Alexandra's house, the short walk doing little to clear her head. As she approached the front door, she heard the unmistakable sound of giggling coming from upstairs. Curious, she crept up the stairs, following the noise to Alexandra's bedroom.
Peeking through the crack in the door, Y/n's eyes widened at the sight before her. There, on Alexandra's bed, were Alex and Rebecca, their lips locked in a passionate kiss.
Y/n knocked on the door, a teasing lilt to her voice as she called out, "Excuse me, guys, but I need to know where my purse is?"
Alexandra jumped, breaking away from Rebecca with a startled yelp. "Y/n!" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep red. "I...um...your purse is on the dresser."
Y/n laughed, pushing open the door fully. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just figured you might need a reminder that you brought my purse with you."
Rebecca laughed, waving hello to Y/n. "Hey there!"
Alexandra turned to Y/n, her expression softening with concern. "Why did you leave the service early? Are you feeling okay?"
Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "I just needed some air, that's all. It was getting a bit stuffy in there."
Alexandra nodded, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in Y/n's appearance. "Are you sure that's all? You look a little...flushed."
Y/n laughed, gesturing to the scene before her. "Oh please, look who's talking. You're the one kneeling on the bed beside Rebecca like you're all innocent."
Alexandra's blush deepened, but she grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged. But hey, you caught us. Might as well join in, right?"
Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. "I'll pass, thanks. You two have fun, though. I'll let myself out and lock the front door on my way."
"Okay, your loss," Alexandra said with a shrug, a mischievous glint in her eye. Before Y/n could even respond, Alexandra leaned back down and captured Rebecca's lips in a kiss yet again.
As she made her way back to her own house, Y/n's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was disgusted with herself for indulging in such sinful thoughts. But on the other hand, she couldn't deny the intense arousal that coursed through her veins, the desperate need to be touched and desired.
By the time she reached her front door, Y/n was practically panting with desire. She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Once she was alone, Y/n leaned against the wall, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.
Y/n walked over to the fridge, her mind still reeling from the erotic scene she had just witnessed. She reached for the handle, intending to grab a cold drink to cool herself down, when something caught her eye.
There, stuck to the fridge with a magnet, was a note from her father. "Sorry sweetheart, I won't be back till Wednesday," it read. "I just got a call - there's an emergency meeting for all the pastors in the city. Text me if you finish reading this."
Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping in disappointment. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. With her father gone, there would be no one to keep her in check, no one to stop her from indulging in her darkest desires.
Her mind immediately wandered back to Oscar, to the way his shirt had ridden up to reveal his toned abs, to the tantalizing glimpse of his happy trail. Y/n bit her lip, her body aching with need.
Y/n quickly pulled out her phone and texted her father, letting him know she was home safe. Once that was done, she headed to her room, her mind already racing with thoughts of Oscar.
Inside her bedroom, Y/n stripped off her church clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. She rummaged through her drawers until she found a pair of soft, worn-in shorts and a loose tank top. The clothes were comfortable, but they also left little to the imagination, hugging her curves in all the right places.
As she changed, Y/n couldn't help but imagine Oscar's reaction if he saw her like this. Would his eyes darken with desire? Would he reach out and touch her, his hands exploring every inch of her body?
Y/n shivered at the thought, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. She knew she should stop these thoughts, should focus on something else. But it was too late. The seed had been planted, and now all she could think about was Oscar, and the way he made her feel.
She laid back on her bed, her gaze drifting over the photos that adorned her walls. There were pictures of her and her father, smiling and laughing together at various events and outings. There were photos of her and Alexandra, capturing their close friendship over the years. Scattered among them were snapshots from her childhood, reminding her of simpler times.
But even as she looked at these cherished memories, Y/n's mind kept drifting back to Oscar. She couldn't shake the image of him from her head, couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her in the church, the way his presence had made her feel.
Y/n sat up suddenly, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what she had to do. She couldn't fight this attraction anymore, couldn't deny the desire that burned within her.
Y/n locked her bedroom door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence of the house. She sat down on her bed, her heart racing as she debated with herself.
She had touched herself before, of course. It was a natural part of growing up, of exploring her own body and desires. But this time felt different. This time, the object of her fantasies was someone so pure, so innocent.
Oscar was a man of God, a symbol of everything that was good and holy in the world. And yet, here she was, imagining him in the most sinful of ways.
Y/n's hand drifted down to the waistband of her shorts, hesitating for a moment before slipping beneath the fabric. She could feel the heat of her own arousal, the slick wetness that coated her fingers.
She closed her eyes, picturing Oscar's face as she began to stroke herself. In her mind, he was kneeling before her, his hands caressing her thighs as he worshipped her body with his mouth.
Y/n's fingers dipped in and out of her slick folds, barely breaching the entrance to her aching core. She was teasing herself, drawing out the pleasure as she lost herself in her fantasies.
In her mind, Oscar's inexperienced tongue was exploring her most intimate places, his soft lips and gentle touches driving her wild with desire. She imagined herself guiding his head, praising him for doing such a good job, for making her feel so incredibly good.
And then, in her fantasy, Oscar looked up at her with those innocent eyes, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "Am I doing it correctly, Y/n? Is this what you want?"
Y/n's hips bucked at the thought, a soft moan escaping her lips as she plunged her fingers deeper into her dripping sex. All it would take was a few more strokes, a few more whispered words of encouragement from her imaginary Oscar.
In Y/n's vivid imagination, her hand wrapped around Oscar's throbbing cock, stroking him with a slow, sensual rhythm. She could feel how sensitive he was, how every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
As she worked him closer and closer to the edge, Oscar began to buck his hips, thrusting into her hand with desperate need. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, his breath hot against her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Y/n held his hand tightly, her fingers intertwined with his as she brought him to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel his heart racing, could sense the intensity of his desire as he clung to her, his body trembling with the force of his impending release.
With a final, firm stroke, Y/n pushed Oscar over the edge, his cock pulsing in her hand as he came with a low, guttural moan. She held him close, whispering words of comfort and encouragement as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cum spilling over her fingers in hot, sticky ropes.
Y/n's fantasy had brought her to the brink of orgasm, but it wasn't quite enough to push her over the edge. She stopped, her pussy pulsing with neediness as she took a moment to catch her breath.
After a few seconds, Y/n reached for her hairbrush, a makeshift dildo she had been using for months out of necessity. She couldn't risk her father finding a real sex toy in her possession, so she had learned to make do with whatever she could find.
The handle of the brush was smooth and hard, the perfect size to fill her aching void. Y/n slipped it inside her, a gasp escaping her lips as it stretched her tight walls.
She began to thrust the brush in and out of her dripping sex, her hips rocking in time with the movements of her hand. In her mind, it was Oscar's cock that was filling her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her with wild abandon.
As Y/n continued to fuck herself with the hairbrush handle, her mind was flooded with the same forbidden fantasies that had troubled her as she recited the rosary. She pictured herself bent over the altar, her dress hiked up around her waist as Oscar took her from behind. She imagined the cool marble against her skin, the weight of his body pressing her down as he claimed her with his cock.
In another scenario, she saw herself in the bell tower, the heavy ropes of the bells swaying above her as Oscar lifted her onto his lap. She could feel the rough wood of the floorboards digging into her knees as she rode him, her hands gripping his shoulders for support.
But it was the confession booth that really set her imagination ablaze. She pictured herself on her knees, her head hidden behind the screen as Oscar stood before her, his cock hard and ready. She would take him into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around his girth as she worshipped him with her tongue.
Y/n knew that every corner of the chapel was adorned with images and symbols of God - crucifixes, paintings of Jesus, statues of angels and saints. But as she fucked herself with the hairbrush handle, lost in her forbidden fantasies, she couldn't bring herself to care.
The thought of God watching her, of Him bearing witness to her sinful desires, only heightened her arousal. She could almost feel His disapproving gaze upon her, could imagine the shame and guilt that would surely follow if she ever acted on her fantasies and gave in to lust with Oscar.
But fuck, it felt so good. The taboo nature of it all, the knowledge that she was defiling a sacred space with her carnal thoughts, only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.
Y/n's hips moved faster, the hairbrush handle slamming into her G-spot with each thrust. Her moans grew louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased her rapidly approaching orgasm.
As Y/n's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing with the force of her release, she cried out in ecstasy. "God, fuck! Fuck, fuck, so good!"
Her eyes rolled back in her head, her vision blurring as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure. And in that moment, as her mind was lost in a haze of lust and sin, she swore she saw a figure standing before her.
It was God Himself, His face twisted in a mixture of anger and disappointment. He reached out to her, His hand hovering just inches from her flushed skin, as if He wanted to strike her down for her transgressions.
But Y/n was too far gone to care. She was lost in the throes of her climax, her body shaking and twitching as she came harder than she ever had before. The image of God faded away, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that left her breathless and spent.
Y/n collapsed back onto her bed, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her intense orgasm. Slowly, she withdrew the hairbrush handle from her dripping pussy, a low whimper escaping her lips as she felt the sudden emptiness.
She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to process the overwhelming emotions that coursed through her. Shame, guilt, and a lingering sense of arousal all battled for dominance in her mind.
As the haze of lust began to clear, Y/n's thoughts turned once again to the forbidden nature of her fantasies. She knew that what she had done was wrong, that her desires were sinful and unholy. But she couldn't deny the intensity of her feelings, the way her body had responded to the mere thought of Oscar.
With a sigh, Y/n sat up and tossed the hairbrush aside, wiping the sticky evidence of her pleasure from her thighs. She knew she needed to put these thoughts out of her mind, to focus on being a good daughter and a devout follower of God.
As the post-orgasmic haze lifted, a wave of embarrassment and shame washed over Y/n. She glanced around her room, suddenly hyper-aware of the sacred objects that surrounded her. Her eyes landed on the small statue of the Virgin Mary that sat on a tiny altar in the corner, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.
Quickly, Y/n pulled her shorts back on, trying to cover herself as if the statue could see through her clothes and judge her for what she had just done. She avoided looking at the altar, afraid of what she might see in Mary's serene, knowing eyes.
Y/n's mind raced with thoughts of repentance and atonement. She knew she needed to pray, to ask for forgiveness for her sinful actions. But even as she thought about kneeling before the altar and confessing her sins, a small part of her rebelled against the idea.
Y/n stumbled into the bathroom, her legs still shaky from the intensity of her orgasm. She turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her face, hoping to wash away the lingering flush of arousal from her cheeks.
But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that no amount of water could cleanse her of the sins she had just committed. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her expression a mix of shame and lingering desire.
She grabbed a washcloth and wiped between her legs, trying to remove any evidence of her self-pleasure. But even as she scrubbed, she knew it was futile. The stain of her sin ran deeper than any soap or water could reach.
Y/n's mind wandered back to the statue of the Virgin Mary in her room, and she felt a pang of guilt. She knew she should be praying, should be asking for forgiveness, and vowing to do better. But the thought of facing Mary, of confessing her sins to the mother of God herself, filled her with dread.
She emerged from the bathroom, her body still tingling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She made her way to the kitchen, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her sinful thoughts.
She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cool water from the tap, taking a long sip to calm her nerves. The liquid soothed her parched throat, but did little to quench the thirst that still burned within her.
Y/n hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling as she sat perched on the cool granite. It was a habit her father had always playfully scolded her for, but in his absence, she found herself craving the rebellious thrill of it.
As she swung her legs back and forth, Y/n's mind drifted once again to Oscar. She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her too. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore the renewed ache between her legs.
Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she heard the unexpected knock at the door. She quickly composed herself and made her way over, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her clothes before opening it.
To her surprise, she found Alexandra standing there, her back turned as she waved goodbye to Rebecca, who was walking away down the path. Y/n blinked in confusion, wondering what her best friend was doing here so suddenly.
"Alexandra? What are you doing here?" Y/n asked, her voice still slightly breathless from her earlier activities.
Alexandra turned around, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she took in Y/n's flushed cheeks and disheveled appearance. "I thought I'd come over and keep you company while your dad makes breakfast," she said, her tone playful and suggestive. "Plus, I figured you could use some girl talk after the way you were eye fucking one of the altar boys earlier."
Y/n let out an exasperated groan, her face flushing an even deeper shade of red as Alexandra's words confirmed her suspicions. Of course her best friend had noticed her shameless ogling of Oscar. There was no hiding anything from Alexandra.
"Ugh, don't remind me," Y/n muttered, stepping aside to let Alexandra enter the house. "Was I actually that obvious? I must have looked like such a creep."
Alexandra laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she brushed past Y/n and made her way into the living room. "Oh please, you weren't that bad. Besides, I'm sure he didn't mind the attention. He seemed pretty smitten with you too."
As she spoke, Alexandra called out in a loud, sing-song voice, "Good morning, Mr. L/n! Wherever you are!"
Y/n shook her head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, Dad's not home. He had to leave for an emergency meeting or something."
Alexandra raised an eyebrow, her nose wrinkling slightly as she sniffed the air. "Huh, that explains why I don't smell any food. Your dad usually has something cooking by now after Mass."
Y/n nodded, feeling a pang of sadness at the realization. Her father's absence always left a void in the house, a sense of incompleteness that she couldn't quite shake.
"Yeah, I'll have to fend for myself until Wednesday," she sighed, leading Alexandra towards the kitchen. "Want some cereal or something? It's not exactly gourmet, but it'll have to do."
Alexandra shrugged, a playful smirk on her face as she followed Y/n into the kitchen. "Sure, cereal sounds great. It's better than nothing at all."
As they rummaged through the cupboards for bowls and spoons, Alexandra couldn't help but notice the lingering tension in the air. She knew Y/n well enough to sense when something was bothering her, and the way her friend had been acting lately was definitely out of the ordinary.
"So, you wanna talk about it?" Alexandra asked softly, pouring milk into her bowl of cereal. "I know something's been on your mind lately. You've been distracted, and I'm worried about you."
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the box of cereal. She knew she could trust Alexandra, but the thought of voicing her forbidden desires out loud made her stomach twist with anxiety.
Alexandra's eyes softened with understanding, and she reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," she reassured her, her voice gentle and encouraging. "There's nothing you could say that would be too much information for me. We've been through way too much together for that."
She chuckled lightly, remembering their teenage years and the countless sleepovers and baths they had shared. "Seriously, Y/n, you can tell me anything. I'm here for you, no matter what."
Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing as she weighed her options. She knew she could trust Alexandra with her life, but the thought of confessing her sinful desires still made her palms sweat with nervousness.
As Alexandra took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she knew she needed to make. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her palms grew clammy with nerves, but she forced herself to speak.
"I... I masturbated while thinking about Oscar," Y/n blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes fixed on her bowl of cereal, unable to meet Alexandra's gaze as she waited for her friend's reaction.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, Alexandra lowered her spoon, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, what?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. "Who are you talking about?"
Y/n nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she realized Alexandra's confusion. "Yeah, I know you're not exactly the best with names and faces," she said, shaking her head. "He's one of the altar boys, one of the tallest out of all the servers earlier."
Alexandra's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Oh, shit," she breathed, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "You mean the hot one with the wavy-ish hair and the dimples?"
Y/n felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that's the one," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about him, Alexandra. It's like every time I close my eyes, I see his face, and I..."
She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as a wave of shame and desire washed over her.
Y/n buried her face in her palms, a loud groan escaping her lips as she tried to find the words to express the depth of her shame and desire. "Fuck, man," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hands. "I literally thought about..."
She stopped abruptly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she realized what she was about to say. Taking a deep breath, Y/n slowly lowered her hands, revealing a face that was equal parts mortified and determined.
"I... I wanted to get bent over the altar," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "With him. With Oscar."
Alexandra's eyes widened, her mouth falling open in shock as she processed Y/n's confession. For a moment, she simply stared at her friend, her brain struggling to compute the sheer audacity of what Y/n had just admitted.
Alexandra let out a low whistle, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Lord have mercy on your soul..." she joked, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "I never thought of you as the type to have such wild fantasies, Y/n."
Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I've always been the good girl, the pastor's daughter who always took the chance to pray and set a good example."
She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "But lately, I've been feeling... restless. Like there's this part of me that wants to break free, to explore things that I've always been taught are wrong or sinful."
Y/n's voice dropped to a hushed whisper as she continued, her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and excitement. "I mean, I've already explored them, yeah, but..." She trailed off, biting her lip as she struggled to find the right words.
"I want to experience these things without the fear of being dragged to hell by the devil himself," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "I want to feel alive, Alexandra. I want to know what it's like to give in to my desires, to let go of all the rules and restrictions that have been holding me back for so long."
Alexandra listened intently, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Y/n's arm, her touch gentle and reassuring.
She smiled warmly, her eyes shining with a mix of affection and understanding. "It's okay, Y/n," Alexandra said softly, her voice filled with reassurance. "That's why we have each other. We're here so that we can express ourselves freely to each other without judgment."
She squeezed Y/n's arm gently, her touch a silent reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared. "You don't have to be afraid to explore your... fantasies, Y/n. I'm here for you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to drag you to hell for it, they'll have to go through me first."
Y/n let out a soft laugh, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude and relief. She knew she could always count on Alexandra to be there for her, to support her no matter what.
Alexandra grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with a playful glint as she leaned in closer to Y/n. "Well, if you really want to explore these desires of yours, maybe you should just seduce him," she suggested, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Y/n's eyes widened, and she let out a surprised laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Alexandra!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. "I can't just go up to him and... and..."
She trailed off, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as she considered the possibility. "Although..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe it's not such a bad idea. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"
Alexandra took a bite of her cereal, a playful smirk on her face as she chewed thoughtfully. "I don't know, you could get disowned if your father finds out," she said, her tone light and teasing.
Y/n's eyes widened in panic, and she leaned forward, her voice rising with each word. "Wait, do you really think he would disown me?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.
Alexandra's own eyes widened in surprise, and she waved her hands frantically in front of her. "No, no, of course not!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "He'll be mad, yes, but he won't disown you. I was just joking, Y/n. Don't freak out."
Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her hand pressed against her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Please, never do that again," she pleaded, her voice still tinged with a hint of panic. "I might die of a heart attack before the alcohol I consume weekly gets to my liver."
Alexandra rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of guilt in her expression. "Fine, fine, I'll try to be more sensitive to your delicate constitution," she teased, her tone softening as she reached out to pat Y/n's hand reassuringly.
"But seriously, Y/n, you know your dad loves you. He might be strict, and he might be disappointed if he found out about your... extracurricular activities, but he would never disown you. You're his daughter, and nothing will ever change that."
Y/n nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she felt the tension drain from her body. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, her voice soft and grateful. "I know my dad loves me, no matter what."
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the question that had been nagging at her since she saw Alexandra with Rebecca earlier. "So, what's going on between you and Rebecca?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "I mean, you practically pounced on her before I even left your room. Are you guys...?"
Alexandra's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she busied herself with her cereal, avoiding Y/n's gaze. "Nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the clink of her spoon against the bowl. "We're just friends."
Y/n raised an eyebrow, unconvinced by Alexandra's dismissive response. "Just friends?" she pressed, her tone skeptical. "Because it looked like there was something more going on between you two."
The next day, Y/n found herself at the church, as she often did in her free time. She moved through the familiar space with ease, straightening pews and dusting shelves, lost in thought as she reflected on her conversation with Alexandra the day before.
As she made her way behind the altar in search of the broom they used indoors, Y/n ran into Oscar. He was kneeling on the floor, his head bowed in prayer, his wavy hair falling across his forehead.
Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat as she took in the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, so serene, and she felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.
"Oscar?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing.
Oscar startled at the sound of her voice, his head snapping up to look at her. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks as he realized who it was.
“Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were praying.” Y/n said shyly, realizing she may have interrupted his sacred time with God.
Oscar stood up, brushing off his knees as he turned to face Y/n. "Hi," he said, his voice soft and warm. "No need to apologize. I was just finishing up anyway."
Y/n felt a rush of relief wash over her, and she smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay. Good," she said, her voice trembling slightly with nerves. "I was just looking for the broom. I'm supposed to be cleaning up around here."
Oscar nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I can help you with that," he offered, gesturing towards the supply closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. "It's my turn to clean the altar anyway."
Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar, and she felt a sudden surge of excitement mixed with anxiety. "That would be great," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you."
Oscar handed Y/n the broom, and they made their way out into the main sanctuary. As Oscar began cleaning the altar, Y/n started sweeping the floor, the soft swish of the broom mingling with the hushed conversations of the churchgoers.
The congregation seemed unbothered by their presence, as it was a fairly normal sight to see the altar boys tending to the altar and Y/n cleaning. They went about their tasks quietly, the only sounds being the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional clink of metal as Oscar polished the candlesticks.
As Y/n swept, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Alexandra. She couldn't help but think about what it would be like to be with Oscar, to feel his strong hands on her body, to taste his lips against hers. The thought made her cheeks flush with heat, and she quickly pushed it aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Y/n found herself zoning out, her mind wandering as she swept the same spots over and over again, as if trying to erase some invisible stain. She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice when Oscar had finished cleaning the altar and had moved on to wiping down the glass cases that held the statues of various saints.
It wasn't until she heard the soft clink of glass that Y/n snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized how distracted she had been. She glanced over at Oscar, who was diligently working his way down the line of statues, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she watched him work. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the way his hair fell across his forehead as he leaned in to clean the higher shelves. It was almost enough to make her forget where they were, to make her want to reach out and touch him, consequences be damned.
She quickly made her way back behind the altar, putting the broom away in its designated spot. She then headed to the front pew, the same place she had sat in yesterday and for years before, having been the one to always read the second readings during mass.
As she settled onto the hard wooden bench, Y/n let out a soft sigh, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She could still feel the heat of Oscar's presence, the way her heart had raced as she watched him work. It was almost too much to bear, the desire that coursed through her veins, the longing to be close to him.
Y/n closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the pew as she tried to calm her racing thoughts. She knew it was wrong, that she should be focused on her faith, on serving God, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to Oscar's presence.
As she sat there, lost in thought, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, that her life was about to take a turn she never could have anticipated.
Y/n's eyes fluttered open as she felt the pew shift slightly beside her. She turned her head to see Oscar settling in next to her, a slightly damp rag clutched in his hand.
"Man, that was exhausting," he said, his voice low and tired. "I don't know how you do it, Y/n. Cleaning this whole place by yourself."
Y/n smiled softly, her heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice so close to her. "It's not so bad," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's kind of peaceful, actually. A chance to clear my head and just... be."
She shifted slightly, her thigh brushing against Oscar's as she did so. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she felt her cheeks flush with heat.
Oscar turned to look at Y/n, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Be...?" he repeated, his voice trailing off as he searched her face for answers.
Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing as she tried to find the right words to explain the turmoil that raged within her. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm not really living, you know? Like I'm just going through the motions, pretending to be someone I'm not."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the stained glass windows that cast a puzzle of colors across the sanctuary. "But when I'm here, cleaning, praying... it's like I can finally breathe. Like I can finally be myself."
Oscar nodded slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. "I know what you mean," he said, his voice low and earnest. "Sometimes it feels like the whole world is expecting us to be something we're not. To fit into these perfect little boxes that don't really exist."
Y/n let out a quiet groan, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the pew. "This is making me sad," she admitted, her voice heavy with emotion.
Oscar's brow furrowed with concern, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on her skin. "Let's do something fun. How about we go get a milkshake at the diner?"
Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features. "Sure," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That sounds perfect."
They stood up from the pew, Oscar's hand lingering on Y/n's arm for a moment longer than necessary. As they made their way out of the church, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't deny the way her heart raced at the prospect of spending more time with Oscar.
The diner was a short, five-minute walk away from the church, nestled on the corner of Main Street. As they stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed, announcing their arrival. The scent of fried food and coffee hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and low chatter.
Oscar led the way to a booth in the back, sliding in across from Y/n. She watched as he flagged down the waitress, ordering a chocolate milkshake for himself and a vanilla one for her. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.
"Vanilla is my favorite," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you know?"
Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your dad talks about you a lot," he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I may have picked up a few things."
Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of her father talking about her, of Oscar taking the time to listen and remember the little details.
As the milkshakes arrived, Y/n found her mind drifting back to her conversation with Alexandra. The words "seduce him" echoed in her head, a tantalizing whisper that set her heart racing.
Without thinking, Y/n reached for the whipped cream on top of her milkshake, scooping up a dollop with her finger. She brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lick it off slowly and deliberately. It was an innocent gesture, but there was something undeniably sensual about the way she did it, the way her eyes locked with Oscar's as she savored the sweetness.
"Mmm, delicious," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I love vanilla."
Oscar's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/n's lips, from the way they glistened with the remnants of the whipped cream.
"I... I'm glad you like it," he stammered, his voice rough with emotion.
Y/n tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck. She bent forward, her lips parting as she took the cherry from the top of the whipped cream, her tongue darting out to catch the sweet, sticky juice.
She sat back up, a playful laugh escaping her lips as she caught Oscar's wide-eyed stare. He was praying in his head, begging God not to tempt him like this, to keep him pure and innocent. But with each passing moment, each glimpse of Y/n's flesh, his resolve was crumbling.
"What's the matter, Oscar?" Y/n teased, her voice low and sultry. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Oscar swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. "N-nothing," he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine."
As they sipped their milkshakes, Y/n continued her innocent yet seductive antics. She ran her fingers along the rim of the glass, her eyes never leaving Oscar's face as she watched him squirm in his seat.
"So tell me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and breathy. "What do you like to do for fun?"
Oscar nearly choked on his milkshake, coughing and sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "I... I like to read," he managed, his voice hoarse. "And play guitar. And... and help out at the church."
Y/n leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she propped her chin in her hands. "That's nice," she said, her voice dripping with honey. "I bet you're really good with your hands. With the guitar, I mean."
Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took another sip of her milkshake. "You know, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry, "I've always wondered what it would be like to play the guitar."
She set her glass down, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop of milkshake from the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you could teach me sometime," she purred, her gaze never leaving his. "I'm a quick learner."
Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew he should put a stop to this, to tell Y/n that he couldn't be her teacher, that it was wrong. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.
"I... I'd be happy to teach you," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. "Anytime you want."
Y/n smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Okay, I'll think about it," she said, her voice light and airy. As she shifted in her seat, her foot brushed against Oscar's thigh, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through his body.
"Oops," she giggled, her cheeks flushing with feigned innocence. "Sorry about that."
Oscar's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure. He knew it was just an accident, that Y/n didn't mean anything by it. But the way she looked at him, the way her foot lingered on his thigh, it was enough to drive him wild with desire.
"It's... it's okay," he managed, his voice hoarse and strained. "Accidents happen."
Y/n leaned forward, her eyes wide and innocent as she looked up at Oscar through her lashes. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "Can I try a sip of your milkshake? I've never had the chocolate flavor before. My dad always gets the black coffee, and I've just been getting vanilla ever since I was a kid."
Oscar's heart skipped a beat at the request, his mind racing with the implications. He knew it was just a milkshake, just a simple, innocent gesture. But the way Y/n looked at him, the way her lips parted as she waited for his answer, it was enough to make his head spin.
"Sure," he managed, his voice rough with emotion. He slid his glass across the table, his fingers brushing against hers as she reached for it.
Y/n wrapped her lips around the straw, her eyes never leaving Oscar's as she took a long, slow sip. She let out a soft moan of appreciation, savoring the taste.
"Mmm, it's good," Y/n purred, her eyes half-lidded as she set the glass back down on the table. "But I still prefer my vanilla milkshake."
She took another sip of her own drink, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of cream on her bottom lip. "There's just something about the simplicity of vanilla, you know? It's pure, untainted. Innocent."
Oscar swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew Y/n was just talking about the milkshake, but the way she spoke, the way her words seemed to hang in the air between them, it was enough to make his head spin.
"I... I understand," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Vanilla is a classic for a reason."
Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Exactly," she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. "Sometimes, the simplest things are the most satisfying."
Y/n leaned back in her seat, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked up at Oscar. "Hey, Oscar," she said, her voice low and sultry. "My dad's not going to be home tonight, so I was thinking... maybe you could come over later and help me practice guitar?"
She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft, plump flesh as she waited for his response. "We could stay up late, just the two of us. I'm sure you could teach me a thing or two."
Oscar's heart was pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty as he gripped the edge of the table. He knew it was a bad idea, that he should say no, that he should run as far away from Y/n as possible. But the temptation was too great, the desire too strong.
"I'd- I'd love to," he managed, his voice rough but hesitant. "Just give me a call when you're ready."
Y/n clapped her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. "Yay!" she exclaimed, her voice high and girlish. "I can't wait to learn how to play guitar."
She leaned back in her seat, her demeanor shifting to something more playful and innocent. As they continued to talk, Oscar found himself struggling to focus, his mind still reeling from Y/n's bold flirtation.
He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his skin flushed and tingling with a strange new sensation. He had never felt so... desired before, so wanted. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a rush of adrenaline that left him breathless and dizzy.
Throughout the rest of their conversation, Oscar found himself stealing glances at Y/n, his eyes lingering on the curve of her lips, and the softness of her skin. He knew it was wrong, that he should push these feelings aside and focus on his faith, but he couldn't help the way his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again later, of being alone with her in the privacy of her home.
Y/n walked towards the door, her heart racing with anticipation. She had chosen her outfit carefully, wanting to strike a balance between comfort and allure. She wore a pair of shorts that were short enough to reveal an unholy amount of skin, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places.
On top, she had opted for a white shirt that was sheer enough to hint at the outline of her bra beneath, the delicate lace peeking through the thin fabric, contrasting the gold cross necklace she had worn her entire life
As she reached for the doorknob, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way about Oscar. But she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of being alone with him, of having his undivided attention.
With a final twist of the knob, Y/n pulled open the door, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Oscar standing on the other side. "Hey there," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "Come on in."
Oscar stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in Y/n's appearance. "Thanks for inviting me," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No need to thank me, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I'm the one who should be thanking you for agreeing to teach me."
She gestured towards the living room, her hips swaying slightly as she walked. "We can practice in here, it's nice and spacious. But fair warning, it's a bit hot in here. No AC."
Y/n turned back to face him, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Or we could practice in my room. It's a bit smaller, but the AC works perfectly. Your choice."
"I think I'd prefer a cold room over a hot one," he said shyly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
She shot him a warm smile, "Okay, follow me." She gestured, making her way up the stairs.
scar's gaze flickered over the photos lining the walls as Y/n led him upstairs, his heart clenching at the sight of her and her father together. There were pictures of them at the beach, at her graduation, at various milestones throughout her life. Occasionally, a photo of Alexandra and Y/n would appear, the two girls grinning at the camera, their arms slung around each other's waists.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Y/n paused, turning to face Oscar. "My room's just down the hall," she said, her voice soft. "Last door on the right."
She started walking again, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. Oscar followed behind her, his eyes glued to the gentle curve of her spine, the way her shirt clung to her back.
When they reached her room, Y/n pushed open the door, gesturing for Oscar to enter. "After you," she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
The room was exactly as Oscar had imagined it would be. Simple, minimalistic, with a white metal bed frame and a small crucifix hanging above it. In the corner, there was a small altar with a statue of the Virgin Mary, and on the bedside table, a pink pearl rosary lay coiled neatly. The bedspread was mostly white, with delicate pink flowers scattered across the surface, and the pillowcases were the reverse, with a pink background and white flowers.
"You can sit wherever you're comfortable," Y/n said, gesturing to the bed and the floor. "I'll go grab my dad's guitar."
As she turned to leave, Oscar's eyes lingered on the bed, on the soft, inviting surface. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was here to teach Y/n how to play guitar, nothing more.
He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern of the bedspread. The room was cool and quiet, the hum of the air conditioner a soothing background noise.
As he waited for Y/n to return, he couldn't help but notice the subtle details of her room. There was a faint, delicate scent of jasmine in the air, which he later discovered came from a small air freshener perched on her dresser. Everywhere he looked, there were hints of innocence - the soft pink hues of her bedding, the occasional hair tie scattered on her nightstand, the various rings she wore on her slender fingers.
On the wall, there was a framed dried flower, its petals faded and brittle with age. Oscar wondered about its significance, about the memories it held for Y/n.
The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Y/n entering the room, a guitar case in her hands. She set it down on the bed beside him, her fingers lingering on the smooth, worn leather.
"Okay," she said, her voice bright and eager. "Let's get started."
Oscar helped Y/n remove the guitar from its case, his fingers brushing against hers as he took it from her hands. He held it up, examining it closely. "When was the last time this was tuned?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Y/n bit her lip, her eyes darting away from his. "To be honest, we haven't used it in about two years," she admitted, her voice sheepish. "We kind of forgot about it."
Oscar nodded, his fingers plucking at the strings experimentally. They were out of tune, the notes discordant and jarring. "No worries," he said, his voice reassuring. "We can tune it right now."
He sat down on the bed, patting the space beside him for Y/n to join. As she settled in next to him, Oscar began to tune the guitar, his fingers moving deftly over the strings. The room filled with the soft, melodic sounds of the instrument coming to life, the notes blending together in perfect harmony.
Oscar finished tuning the guitar and handed it to Y/n, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "Here you go," he said, his voice soft. "Now, let's start with the basics."
He sat beside her on the bed, his leg brushing against hers as he demonstrated the proper way to hold the guitar. "Keep your thumb behind the neck of the guitar," he instructed, his hand guiding hers. "And wrap your fingers around the fretboard like this."
As he showed her how to position her fingers, Oscar couldn't help but notice the way Y/n's hands felt in his, the softness of her skin, the delicate strength in her fingers. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand.
"Now, let's try strumming," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He reached over, his hand covering hers as he guided the pick across the strings. The guitar came alive under their touch, the notes ringing out clear and bright.
"Good job," Oscar said, his voice warm with approval. He leaned in closer, his eyes focused on the way Y/n was holding the guitar. It seemed awkward, her fingers splayed across the fretboard in an unnatural position.
As he tried to adjust her grip, his gaze drifted lower, drawn to the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her shirt. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as his eyes lingered on the soft swell of her breasts.
Realizing what he was doing, Oscar quickly closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He couldn't let himself be tempted like this, not when he was supposed to be teaching her, guiding her.
He forced himself to focus on the guitar, on the feel of the smooth wood beneath his fingers, the cool metal of the strings. "Let's try that again," he said, his voice strained. "This time, keep your wrist straight, like this."
His hand covered hers once more, his touch gentle but firm as he guided her through the proper technique.
As Y/n began to get the hang of the guitar, her fingers moving more confidently across the fretboard, Oscar felt a sense of pride and accomplishment. She was a natural, her hands seeming to instinctively find the right positions, the right chords.
But then, in a moment of enthusiasm, Y/n applied too much pressure to one of the strings, the sharp edge of the fret digging into her fingertip. She gasped, her hand jerking away from the guitar as a thin line of blood welled up on her finger.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and pain. She brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the wound instinctively.
Oscar's heart clenched at the sight, his hand reaching out to steady the guitar as it threatened to slip from her lap. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Y/n nodded, her eyes meeting his. "It's just a little cut," she said, her voice muffled by her finger. "Nothing serious."
Oscar could see the pain in Y/n's eyes, the way she was trying to hold back tears. His heart ached for her, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Let me see," he said softly, his thumb brushing over the cut on her finger.
"It must hurt," he murmured, his brow furrowed with concern. "Do you have a bandaid here?"
Y/n nodded, pointing to the small desk in the corner of her room. "Yeah, there's a box in the drawer."
He stood up, crossing the room to retrieve the bandages. As he rummaged through the drawer, he couldn't help but notice the personal items scattered amongst the clutter- a hairbrush, a tube of lip gloss, a few loose change. He felt a pang of guilt for intruding on her private space but pushed the feeling aside.
He returned to the bed, sitting down beside Y/n once more. "Here," he said, holding out a small, square bandage. "Let me put this on for you."
Oscar carefully applied the bandage to Y/n's finger, his touch gentle and precise. As he finished, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There was only the two of them, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed beneath them.
Before Oscar could react, Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. He froze for a moment, his mind reeling with shock and confusion. But as Y/n's lips moved against his, he found himself kissing her back, his own inexperience evident in the awkward, tentative movements of his mouth.
Y/n could tell that Oscar hadn't kissed anyone before, and a part of her was thrilled at the idea of being his first. She deepened the kiss, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open for her.
Oscar pulled away from the kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. He was flustered, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. "Y/n, we can't," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is the devil tempting us, trying to lead us astray."
But Y/n wasn't having it. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Then why does it feel so good?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Tell me you want me too, Oscar. I don't care if we're going to hell for it. I just need you."
Her words sent a shiver down Oscar's spine, his body responding to her touch, her proximity. He knew it was wrong, that he should resist, that he should push her away. But the desire coursing through his veins was too strong, too overwhelming.
"I... I do want you," he admitted, his voice trembling with longing. "But we can't. It's not right."
Y/n's eyes gleamed with determination as she gazed into Oscar's conflicted face. She knew she had him on the hook, and she wasn't about to let him slip away.
"Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "Don't you believe that God forgives those who truly repent? That He understands the weakness of the flesh?"
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "We can give in to this temptation, just this once. And then we can confess our sins, ask for forgiveness. It's not like we're doing anything truly sinful, after all. We're human, we can sin every once in a while."
Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's persuasive words. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a small part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.
Y/n's words washed over Oscar like a tidal wave, eroding his resistance with each passing second. "It's a sign, Oscar," she breathed, her eyes wide and imploring. "Look around you. It's just the two of us, nobody to disturb us, nobody to judge us. Maybe it's meant to be. Maybe we're meant to give in to our desires, just this one time."
Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. Oscar's heart raced, his body responding to her touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that they were alone, that no one would ever know. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.
Y/n leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Please, Oscar," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "I need you. I want you. Let's just forget about everything else for a while and focus on each other."
Oscar's resolve was crumbling, his body betraying his mind as Y/n's seductive words washed over him. "But they're watching," he whispered, his eyes darting to the crucifix and the statue of the Virgin Mary.
Y/n followed his gaze, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Let them watch," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "They know this is natural, Oscar. They'll understand. It's not like we're committing some unforgivable sin."
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "God created us with these desires, Oscar. He wouldn't condemn us for acting on them."
His heart raced, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument.
Y/n's hands slid down Oscar's chest, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. "Don't you see, Oscar?" she breathed, her eyes dark with desire. "This is meant to be. We're meant to be together, to share this moment. It's a gift from God."
Her lips trailed along his jawline, her teeth grazing his skin. "Think about it," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "We're alone, with no one to disturb us. No one to judge us. It's like we're in our own little world, a world where the only thing that matters is us."
Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to Y/n's touch despite his mind's protests. He knew what she was saying made sense, that it was a logical argument. But still, a part of him hesitated, unsure if he was truly ready to cross that line.
Oscar's resistance finally crumbled, his body melting into Y/n's embrace as he returned her kisses with a shy, tentative passion. "I... I don't know how to please a woman," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never... I'm a virgin."
Y/n's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before being replaced by a look of tender understanding. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'll guide you, Oscar. We'll take it slow, and I'll show you everything you need to know."
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Just trust me, and let yourself feel. Let yourself experience the pleasure that God has gifted us with."
Y/n gently guided Oscar to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Just relax," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'll take care of you."
She knelt down in front of him, her eyes level with his crotch. Slowly, teasingly, she ran her hands up his thighs, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his jeans.
Oscar's breath hitched in his throat, his body responding to her touch despite his nervousness. He had never been this intimate with anyone before, and the thought of Y/n touching him in such a way both thrilled and terrified him.
Y/n's fingers dug into Oscar's thighs, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she squeezed and massaged the firm muscle. She could feel him shudder under her touch, his body responding to her teasing caresses.
A wicked smile played on her lips as she heard his sharp intake of breath. She loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and at her mercy. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she had the power to make him tremble with desire.
Slowly, deliberately, she reached for the zipper of his jeans, her fingers toying with the metal tab. She could see the bulge in his pants, the evidence of his arousal, and it only served to fuel her own desire.
With a swift tug, she pulled down his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth parting echoing in the quiet room. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one smooth motion until they pooled around his ankles.
Oscar flinched as Y/n eagerly tugged down his jeans and boxers, exposing his most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. Feeling shy and embarrassed by her boldness, he quickly covered his face and mouth with one hand, hiding behind it as she began to touch him.
Y/n's fingers danced along his inner thighs, slowly making their way higher and higher. She could feel his body trembling under her touch, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She reveled in the power she held over him, in the way she could make him quiver with just a simple caress.
"Relax, Oscar," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "There's no need to be shy. I'm going to make you feel so good."
Her hand wrapped around his hardening length, her fingers stroking him slowly, teasingly. Oscar let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him.
Oscar whimpered as Y/n's fingers danced along his sensitive skin, her touch both tantalizing and overwhelming. "Have you ever touched yourself?" she asked, her voice low and seductive.
Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson, his eyes darting away from hers. "N-no," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/n chuckled, her fingers continuing their teasing exploration. "I don't believe you," she purred, her thumb grazing the tip of his hardening length.
He let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily as she touched him. "I... I tried," he admitted, his voice trembling with embarrassment. "But I didn't know how."
Y/n smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Give me your hand," she purred, her voice low and seductive.
Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. But as Y/n's fingers intertwined with his, he found himself giving in to her guidance.
She wrapped his hand around his hardening length, her fingers gently curling around his own. "Like this," she murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. "You can go slow."
She guided his hand in a slow, steady rhythm, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar let out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation.
"Or you can go faster," Y/n whispered, her hand speeding up the pace. Oscar gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his strokes.
Oscar's shy moans filled the room as Y/n continued to guide his hand, her fingers curling around his own as she showed him how to stroke himself. "That feels good, doesn't it?" she purred, her voice low and seductive.
He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt anything like this before, the pleasure coursing through his body like a raging river.
Y/n's hand sped up, her fingers gliding along his shaft with each stroke. Oscar's breath came in short, sharp gasps, his hips bucking involuntarily as she increased the intensity of his pleasure.
"You're doing so well, Oscar," she murmured, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Just let yourself feel it. Let yourself enjoy it."
Y/n's fingers slowed their strokes, her hand still intertwined with Oscar's as she guided him. "I'm going to do something now," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Don't freak out, okay?"
Oscar nodded, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Okay," he managed to choke out, his eyes wide with anticipation and nervousness.
Slowly, teasingly, Y/n leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Oscar let out a low, guttural moan, his fingers tightening around hers as he felt the warm, wet heat of her mouth enveloping him.
Her head bobbed up and down, her lips sealed tightly around Oscar's shaft as she began to suck. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive tip, her cheeks hollowing as she increased the suction.
Oscar's fingers tightened around hers, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. But as Y/n guided his hands away from his cock, he found himself letting go, his palms coming to rest on her shoulders as she took him deeper into her mouth.
The cross necklace around Y/n's neck dangled and swayed with each movement of her head, the gold chain catching the light as it brushed against her skin. Oscar watched, transfixed, as the symbol of her faith bounced and twirled, a stark contrast to the act she was performing.
Y/n's lips stretched around his length, her throat constricting as she took him deeper and deeper. Oscar's head fell back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lost himself in the intense pleasure of her mouth.
Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head as Y/n's mouth worked its magic on his throbbing length. "Oh my god," he groaned, the words tumbling from his lips without a second thought.
For a brief moment, the realization that he had just taken the Lord's name in vain flashed through his mind. But the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body quickly pushed any thoughts of sin or guilt aside.
Y/n's tongue swirled around his shaft, her lips sealed tightly around him as she bobbed her head up and down. The wet, obscene sounds of her sucking filled the room, mingling with Oscar's breathy moans and gasps.
He tangled his fingers in her hair, his hips rocking back and forth as he lost himself in the sensation. Nothing else mattered in that moment - not his faith, not his vows, not the consequences of his actions. All that existed was the feeling of Y/n's mouth on his cock, and the all-consuming need for more.
Y/n could feel Oscar's body tensing, his grip on her hair loosening as he neared his climax. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hips rocking erratically as he chased his release.
But just as he was about to reach the peak, Y/n abruptly stopped, pulling her mouth away from his throbbing length. Oscar let out a strangled cry, his body writhing with frustration.
"No, please, don't stop," he begged, his voice hoarse and pleading. "It felt so good. Please, I need..."
Y/n placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "Shh, it's okay," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Calm down. It'll feel even better later, I promise. Just trust me on this, okay?"
Oscar's breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need. But as he looked into Y/n's eyes, he found himself nodding, his trust in her overriding his desperation.
Y/n smiled, pleased with Oscar's compliance. "Good boy," she purred, her eyes roaming hungrily over his nearly naked form. "Now, why don't you take off the rest of your clothes for me?"
Oscar nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly before kicking off his jeans, which were still bunched around his ankles.
In his haste to obey Y/n's command, Oscar didn't even notice that she was undressing as well. His eyes were fixed on her face, his body trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.
Y/n's fingers deftly traced the bottom of her shirt, her hips swaying seductively as she slipped it off her shoulders. Her bra followed soon after, revealing her pert breasts to Oscar's wide-eyed gaze. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, shimmying out of it before sliding her panties down her legs.
Oscar's face flushed a deep crimson as he took in the sight of Y/n's naked body. He wanted to speak, to express the multitude of emotions and desires coursing through him. But the words caught in his throat, his shyness overpowering his courage.
Y/n noticed his hesitation, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Do you need to say anything, Oscar?" she asked, her voice low and inviting. "Don't be shy. It's just the two of us here."
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I... I just..." he stammered, his eyes darting away from hers. "I've never seen a girl naked before. You're so beautiful."
Y/n's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with approval. "Thank you, Oscar," she purred, taking a step closer to him. "And you're pretty cute yourself."
She reached out, her fingers trailing down his chest, his abs, his hips. Oscar shivered under her touch, his body responding to her closeness despite his nervousness.
Y/n noticed Oscar's nervousness, the way his body trembled under her touch. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Hey," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "Calm down for me, okay? You need to relax."
Oscar's eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting hers. "S-sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a bit scared."
Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of his face. "It's okay to be scared," she murmured, her lips brushing against his forehead. "But I'm here with you. I won't let anything happen to you."
She kissed him again, her lips moving softly against his. Oscar melted into the kiss, his fears slowly dissipating as he lost himself in the sensation of her touch, her warmth, her presence.
Y/n noticed the worried expression on Oscar's face, his body tense and uncertain. She cupped his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm okay. Don't worry."
She leaned in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. As she did, she rocked her hips, taking him deeper inside her. A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening as she felt him stretch her further.
"Fuck," she breathed, her voice strained with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. "You're huge."
Oscar's eyes widened, his body relaxing slightly at her words. He had never heard such a compliment before, and it sent a surge of confidence coursing through him.
Y/n smiled, her hips moving in small, circular motions. "See?" she purred, her lips curling into a seductive smirk. "I can handle you. Just relax and let me take care of you."
Oscar nodded, his body relaxing under Y/n's guidance. "Okay," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation.
As Y/n began to move, Oscar's eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure. "Oh god," he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily as she rode him. "Oh fu- oh my god."
She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "It's okay to swear. It's just between us."
Oscar's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "Fuck," he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a forbidden fruit. "Fuck, Y/n. You feel so good."
She smiled, her hips moving faster, harder. "That's it," she purred, her voice encouraging. "Let go. Say whatever you want. No one's here to judge us."
Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she heard Oscar swear, his voice trembling with pleasure. "That's it," she purred, her hips moving faster, harder. "You sound so pretty when you swear."
She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "God forbid my father ever finds out," she whispered, her voice low and conspiratorial. "But I'd gladly risk it if it meant I could hear this every night."
Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the thought of being discovered. But the pleasure coursing through him was too intense to ignore, and he found himself pushing the thought aside, focusing instead on the feeling of Y/n's body moving against his.
Y/n threw her head back, a loud moan escaping her lips as Oscar hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "Fuck, right there baby," she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.
But as she felt him tense beneath her, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and panic, she realized what was happening. "Stop, stop," he whimpered, his voice muffled against her neck. "I-I think I'm gonna pee."
Her eyes widened, but she quickly reassured him. "No, you're not," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "That's just your body's way of telling you you're about to cum."
As if on cue, Oscar's body convulsed, his hips bucking as he released inside her. Y/n gasped, her own orgasm crashing over her as she felt him fill her with his seed.
They lay there for a moment, their breaths gradually slowing as they came down from their high. But as the post-orgasmic haze began to lift, reality started to set in.
Oscar buried his face in Y/n's neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "That was so... oh my god..."
Y/n's arms tightened around him, her fingers running through his hair in a soothing gesture. "I know," she whispered, her voice soft and understanding. "It's a lot to take in."
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "I mean, physically. Did I hurt you at all?"
Oscar shook his head, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No," he mumbled, his eyes darting away from hers. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."
Y/n smiled, her fingers tracing the contours of Oscar's face. "That's okay," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "It's normal to feel overwhelmed after your first time. Just take a deep breath and try to relax."
But before Oscar could respond, a loud crack of thunder echoed outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the window. Oscar's eyes widened, his body tensing at the sudden noise.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion.
Y/n glanced towards the window, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's just rain," she explained, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin. "A big storm must have rolled in while we were... distracted."
Oscar's eyes darted between Y/n and the window, his mind struggling to process the new sensory input. The sound of the rain, the flashes of lightning illuminating the room, the scent of petrichor wafting through the air - it was all too much for his overstimulated senses to handle.
She felt his body tense against hers as another clap of thunder boomed outside. She could sense his fear, his discomfort with the sudden storm. "Okay, lay down for me," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "You can use the pillows to cover your ears while I go downstairs, okay?"
He nodded, his face still buried in the crook of her neck. He slowly laid down on the bed, his hands clutching the pillows tightly to his ears.
Y/n smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll call your mom on the landline and let her know you're staying over tonight," she explained, her fingers tracing the shell of his ear. "I can't let you walk home in this rain."
Oscar's eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "But my mom..." he started, his voice muffled by the pillows.
"Shh, it's okay," Y/n reassured him, her lips brushing against his temple. "I'll explain everything. Just try to relax, okay?"
Y/n slipped out of the bedroom, pulling her clothes back on. As she made her way downstairs, she glanced back at Oscar, who was lying on the bed staring out the window. His ears were still covered with the pillow, and the bottom half of his body was now draped with the blanket.
She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his vulnerability and innocence shining through despite the intimate act they had just shared. She knew he was scared, overwhelmed by the storm and the new experiences of the day. But she also knew that he trusted her, that he felt safe with her.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation with Oscar's mother. She knew it wouldn't be easy, to explain why her son was spending the night during a thunderstorm. But she also knew that it was the right thing to do, to keep him safe and protected.
Y/n picked up the phone and dialed Oscar's mother's number, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she waited for the call to connect.
When Nicole answered, Y/n explained the situation, her voice trembling slightly. "Hi Nicole, it's Y/n. I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this, but... Oscar is here with me. We were practicing guitar when the storm hit, and it's just too dangerous for him to walk home right now."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Y/n's heart sank. But then Nicole's voice came through, warm and understanding. "Oh honey, don't worry about it. I was actually just about to call you. I was going to ask if Oscar could stay the night, because I don't want him walking home in this weather either."
Y/n let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. "Thank you so much, Nicole," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "I really appreciate your understanding."
Y/n hung up the phone, a wave of relief washing over her. She had been so worried about how Nicole would react, but her understanding and support had put Y/n's mind at ease.
She made her way back upstairs, her footsteps soft on the carpeted steps. As she entered the bedroom, she found Oscar still lying on the bed, his ears covered with the pillow and his body tucked under the blanket.
"Everything's okay," she said softly, perching on the edge of the bed. "Your mom knows you're here, and she's happy for you to stay the night. She was actually just about to call and ask me the same thing."
Oscar's eyes widened, the pillow slipping slightly as he turned to look at her. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.
Y/n nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Really. She understands about the storm, and she doesn't want you walking home in this weather either."
Y/n rummaged through her closet, pulling out an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. They were clearly her father's clothes, the shirt hanging loosely on her frame as she held them out to Oscar.
"Come on, sit up," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let me help you get changed."
Oscar hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. But the thought of wearing his own wet, sticky clothes made him shudder, and he slowly sat up, the blanket falling away from his body.
Y/n helped him into the oversized shirt, the fabric swallowing his smaller frame. She then handed him the shorts, averting her eyes as he slipped them on.
"There," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Comfy?"
Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the oversized clothes. They were comfortable, and he felt a sense of safety and security wearing them.
But as he went to stand up, he suddenly pulled Y/n down with him, plopping back onto the bed. She let out a small "oof" of surprise, but didn't comment on it, realizing that he was just tired and seeking comfort.
Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he snuggled into the pillow. Y/n could feel his body relaxing against hers, his breathing slowing as he drifted off to sleep.
She smiled, her fingers gently stroking his hair as she watched him sleep. Despite the events of the day, the intimacy they had shared, she felt a sense of peace wash over her.
The following Sunday, Y/n and Oscar found themselves back at church, sitting in their usual pews. Y/n was scheduled to read a Bible verse about lust, a topic that had taken on a whole new meaning since their encounter last week.
As she stood up to approach the podium, Y/n couldn't help but steal a glance at Oscar. Her eyes met his, and she saw his cheeks flush a deep crimson, his gaze darting away from hers.
She suppressed a smile, remembering the intimate moments they had shared. The thought of the pastor's daughter and an altar server engaging in such activities would surely raise some eyebrows if anyone found out.
Y/n cleared her throat, the microphone crackling to life as she began to read the verse. "For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God..."
taglist:
@nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii
@livsturnioloo @callsignwidow @anamiad00msday @morgrinha @zestytimbit
@si1ver06 @lilorose25
#sera write’s#1k celebration#formula 1#f1#formula one#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x fem!reader
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THE GOLDEN LOTUS
pairing: Ollie Bearman x Reader
word count: 864
university au!! i just wanted something cute and sweet and i think i really cooked with this one. also thinking of maybe making this into a series or having other uni au's for other drivers, what do you guys think???
Ollie Bearman wasn’t one for change. Predictability was his sanctuary, a warm cocoon that he didn’t much like leaving. His life ran on routine: lectures, workouts, and pasta dinners in his dorm room. But predictability took a nosedive the day he stumbled into the Golden Lotus.
It was a small Chinese restaurant tucked between a laundromat and a charity shop, a little worn but radiating charm. Ollie’s first visit was born of desperation—he’d forgotten to do a food shop, and the Golden Lotus was cheap, convenient, and smelled amazing. He didn’t even like Chinese food that much, but the portion sizes? Enormous. Enough to feed a starving uni student for two days, if he rationed it right.
The food, however, quickly became secondary.
The real reason Ollie found himself at the Golden Lotus every Tuesday and Thursday night was the girl behind the counter. YN.
She was a computer science major with a sharp wit and a smile that felt like a reward when Ollie managed to coax it out of her. YN worked the evening shift, her laptop often open beside the register as she chipped away at coursework between filling takeout orders. She lived in the apartment above the restaurant, earning a rent discount by working their… or so he overheard.
At first, Ollie had been too shy to do much more than order his food, offer a polite smile, and retreat to his usual table. But YN had noticed him—how could she not? He was the only customer who regularly dined in. That was rare enough, but when someone started showing up twice a week like clockwork, well… she couldn’t help but be a little curious.
It had started innocently.
“You’re becoming a regular,” she’d said one night, sliding his order across the counter. Her tone was teasing but kind, and Ollie had stammered some excuse about the convenience. She’d laughed softly, and the sound stuck with him longer than it should have.
From that moment, their interactions had begun to stretch beyond the standard “Cash or card?” conversations. On slow nights, Ollie would linger, striking up tentative chats about coursework or whatever music was playing on the overhead speakers. He learned that YN hated group projects but loved building things—apps, websites, anything she could tinker with. She learned that Ollie was studying business but had a secret dream of running his own karting center someday, a nod to his childhood passion for motorsports.
It wasn’t long before they’d fallen into a quiet rhythm.
When YN wasn’t busy, she’d sit at a table with her laptop open, her brow furrowed as she debugged code or prepared for lectures. One evening, Ollie surprised her by setting his business textbook across from her.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.
She blinked at him, caught off guard, then shrugged. “Sure, but I’m not sharing my Wi-Fi password.”
He grinned, and just like that, Ollie became a fixture of her workspace.
Mr. Zhou, however, was less enthused at first.
“That boy again?” he’d muttered one evening, poking his head out of the kitchen to see Ollie hunched over his notes. “Does he not have a home?”
“He’s harmless,” YN had assured him.
“Harmless or homeless?”
But Ollie grew on Mr. Zhou over time. The older man had caught him fixing a wobbly table one night, unprompted, and begrudgingly admitted the “straggler” wasn’t so bad.
By November, Ollie had started hanging around until closing. Not to pester YN—though he did enjoy the extra time with her—but because the restaurant had become a comfort to him, a little pocket of warmth in his otherwise hectic uni life. Sometimes, after locking up, YN would invite him upstairs to her flat. It was tiny, crammed with textbooks and a perpetually half-finished Lego sets, but Ollie loved it.
Their hangouts weren’t dates. Not officially, anyway. But Ollie couldn’t deny how much he looked forward to them. Whether they were watching a movie or playing video games, he felt at ease in her company.
The turning point came in mid-December, on a freezing morning when Ollie was walking to class with his flatmate, Kimi.
“So,” Kimi began, glancing at him with a sly smile, “how’s your girlfriend?”
“What?” Ollie nearly tripped over his own feet.
“You know, YN,” Kimi said, casually sipping his coffee. “You’re at that restaurant all the time. I just thought… you know?”
“She’s not my—” Ollie started, but the words died in his throat.
Because, truthfully, he didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the thought of YN as his girlfriend made his stomach flip in a way he hadn’t felt before.
That evening, as he sat at his usual table in the Golden Lotus, Ollie caught himself staring at YN while she worked. She was wiping down the counter, humming softly to herself, her hair falling loose from its tie. She glanced up and caught him looking.
“What?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
“Nothing,” Ollie said quickly, feeling his cheeks heat.
But in that moment, he realized he didn’t want to keep playing it safe. Maybe it was time to take a chance.
Just as soon as he worked up the courage.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#formula one#formula 1#x reader#x yn#x you#prema racing#formula 2#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman imagine#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman x y/n#oliver bearman#ob50#university au#college au
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Okay I’v been thinking about some post-game Rookanis thing since I finished my first playthrough
Spoiler ahead alert!
So here’s my hc: since my Rook is a Shadow Dragon,they will join the rebuilding of Mintharous and Lucanis needs to take the duty of The First Talon. The couple may have a long time couldn’t be able to make time for each other.
And finally the two get their time to discuss their own business such as:
1) Where to live, they can’t be separated in two city forever. Rook probably will be the one to compromise? They do enjoy the city and I think maybe Teia will invite them even before Lucanis asks LOL
2) my Rook is a Necromancer, It’s time to talk about necromancy with Lucanis 😆 I knew Emmerich tried but Hey! This is Rook speaking! Maybe Lucanis will try to understand necromancy?
3) Keeping pets. Lucanis already has a pet snake but how about Rook? Growing up in a military family, maybe they moved around a lot. This time they finally settle down, so keep pets is a good way to provide a sense of stability. But I also think Spite may disagree Lucanis and Rook’ decision Hahaha
4) About wounds healing . My Rook was a foundling and lost their parents years ago,then was Varric who was their nearly-father for like half a year, then was Harding-their longest-standing companion. They can’t be not having trauma in losing someone and be really fear to be abandone. So after all they’ve been through, maybe this is the chance Lucanis will be there for them for a mind therapy ? I would love to see them curing each other. <3
Followed are some of my gripes(No need to read!)
I literally cried for like 2 hours when I saw what Rook experienced when they trapped in Fade.Varric is always my favorite since DA 2, and damn! Varric’s words really help me to continue the game after the Mintharous or Treviso Choice. Shadow Dragons and Neve blamed all of this to Rook (and I was like “Rook is only one person without army and forces how could they be able to save the city? And Minrathous did have far more forces than Treviso has”)and they’ve already messed up the ritual. The self-doubt was about to overwhelm them, but they had to pretend to be optimistic and help everyone in the team dealing their problems.
My Rook has never considered themselves as a leader, they just stood out and begun to take the duty of finishing the job and they tried their best to take care of everyone. In the game,Varric was the only one asked Rook how long has it been since they’ve slept while they’re worrying others’ sleeping.
And the absence of companion banter, didn’t got their option when companion talking about a mage thing,etc…really made me feel unwanted . I hope maybe someday bioware could add some rook’s reaction to companion banter🥲
I mean, at least they should have comments on Romanced Lucanis told Taash how to kill mages and that’s like dancing or seduction …
“I’m right here hearing! Lucanis! ”
English is not my first language so please forgive me if I say something weird 🥲
about my Rook:
#rookanis#lucanis x rook#post datv#shadow dragon rook#mage rook#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#da veilguard#da4 spoilers#da4#rook mercar#nels mercar
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her eyes narrow in on her, offended that she’s speaking like that isn’t something on tai’s mind. it always is, because she hates that mikayla didn’t get the life she deserved— free of her father but more than that, too. not what actually happened to her. she wants to ask if she was supposed to stay with her out of some obligation— but she has enough restraint not to go there, not when it doesn’t feel accurate. she loved mikayla, she loved her more than anything even when they did break up, but it’s because she loved her that she felt like they couldn’t go on like they were. she always thought that someday, there would be a chance for them again — when they were both in the right place — but that never happened. she didn’t realize then that saying goodbye was final for her. ❝ that was not my response to … that, ❞ she mutters in frustration, quickly glancing to their surroundings, then back to her. ❝ i wanted to be there for you, ❞ she reminds her, like it’s simple to her. ❝ i wanted to be the person you could still come to when you needed to talk, but— but that wasn’t enough for you, ❞ she reminds, letting out a scoff. her eyes close when mikayla admits to never reading them; part of her always expected that, because surely, something would’ve caught her attention, but it still hurts. taissa was still trying. ❝ that’s not what i was doing. what the fuck? i cared about you, ❞ she says, voice slightly louder now, growing with frustration.
it’s starting to feel embarrassing, the way mikayla throws that in her face. it does feel like it’s spiting her— but she didn’t necessarily believe mikayla would do that on purpose. this is just her own insecurities getting the best of her, a blatant reminder of how much she’s failed, despite giving up on the love of her life to try to make something of herself. ❝ excuse me if i don’t want you to do something you hate, ❞ she argues with a scoff. ❝ i know it’s not about me. you’ve made it clear you don't think about me at all, ❞ she points out, rolling her eyes at the thought, because even the worst company from the wilderness, those still alive to run into at any moment, tai still thinks about them, so she can’t fathom why it's so easy for mikayla to have let go of her— her wife. she holds her hands up as she shakes her head. ❝ no. good for you, mikayla. ❞ her words come off condescending, but she doesn't actually mean it that way. she's is happy for her, despite it all. ❝ if you're happy— good for you. that's all i wanted. ❞ she just couldn't have the weight of it all on her own shoulders; it felt consuming, like it was going to suffocate her trying to be everything mikayla needed in there. leaving entirely might not have been the best option, but it felt like the only one back then.
her jaw clenches, and mikayla doesn’t have to finish her sentence for taissa to know what she’s suggesting. but even now, as angry as she’s been with taissa, and even given how estranged they feel— she still thinks she would do anything for her. taissa knows she’s alive because of what mikayla did for her out there, not just physically, but mentally. she believes the same is true for her, too— but mikayla keeps suggesting she’s wrong. ❝ she— i didn’t give up on you, ❞ she corrects. ❝ maybe you just never understood me. ❞ but taissa doesn’t believe that, either. she thinks mikayla would’ve understood her better than she understood herself. her eyes narrow in on her and she shakes her head. ❝ maybe if you listened to anything i said that day, or let me finish, or — read my fucking letters — you’d know the truth. but i guess you like your story better, where i’m just the bad guy. ❞
taissa rolls her eyes, because mikayla doesn’t need to defend herself for that— she’s already made it clear she doesn’t care about taissa. ❝ didn’t say you did, ❞ she mutters, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to stand taller, trying to pull herself together again. ❝ seems like you’ve been sitting on that one for a while, though, ❞ she says, nodding back to her, wondering just how long she’s been antsy to call taissa out on it. her jaw clenches when mikayla goes on, because that’s not what she thinks. it’s never been what she thought, even when so many people did assume the worst of her before things got bad. taissa always saw more in mikayla. she’s also never been loved by anyone the way she was loved by mikayla—- which is exactly why it’s so difficult for her to comprehend mikayla wanting absolutely nothing to do with her now, because how did she just turn that off? ❝ i don’t think you're heartless, mikayla. you know that, ❞ she reminds, her eyes narrowing in on her. ❝ there’s a difference between being heartless and being so willing to give up on people when things didn’t go your way, ❞ she adds, ignoring the fact that that’s basically exactly what she did to her first.
after everything has mikayla on the verge of snapping the way she promised asher she wouldn't. her jaw clenches tightly, teeth grinding together as she takes a slow, deep breath, holding back the rant that's going on in her mind— how it was taissa who gave up on them after everything, who decided that what they had meant nothing out here, like it was just something to get them by in the wilderness, something they no longer had any use for anymore. “ i just killed my dad, tai, ” she reminds her calmly, because it feels like tai's forgotten. “ i almost died. and your response was to— to fucking dump me. so yeah, i cut you out of my life. but you're the one who decided you didn't give a fuck first. ” maybe tai never said that specifically, but it felt that way. “ i didn't read them, ” she admits, keeping her voice flat. “ wasn't really in the mood to hear you try to make yourself look better. sorry doesn't really erase what you did. ” it killed her, not knowing what those letters said, throwing them out before the temptation could get to be too much, but she figured it was what was best for herself— and since it was clear that tai didn't care about what was best for mikayla, she had to focus on that instead, even if it meant ignoring the only woman she'd ever loved.
she looks away, annoyed, because she doesn't think she could ever get tai to understand, not when she got to grow up with parents who supported her, while mikayla only had a man who put her down, who used every opportunity to make her feel like nothing. “ i just fucking told you why. it's not my fault it's not what you want to hear. because you'd rather hear me tell you it's to spite you, right? that it's about you, not him? ” she lets out a cold laugh, her head tilting slightly. “ well, i'm fucking sorry, but not everything has to do with you. ” it doesn't feel like tai knows her, because playing out of spite is something mikayla would have always done— especially now, when most of her choices have been stripped away from her, forcing her to turn back to soccer, because it's one of the few things she's ever actually been good at, whether she liked it or not. “ i'm not miserable, ” she lies, but she's trying to believe her own words more than anything. “ it sounds like you're just pissed off that i'm doing fine without you. ” she's not, but she's learned to accept that, telling herself that happiness no longer mattered, that it wasn't even something she wanted anymore, because she can't stand the thought of losing it again.
mikayla doesn't want to have this conversation at all, but her pride won't let her walk away. she can handle the pain, she thinks, because it's all she's ever felt anyway, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it. “ i was in love with the person i was with out there, ” she clarifies. “ you know— the girl i married. the one i would've— ” killed for, died for, done anything for, but she stops herself before she could go there, feeling like she shouldn't have to. “ but you're not her, taissa. and maybe i was just wrong about you, and you never actually were the person i thought you were, but— the girl i loved wouldn't have fucking given up on me just because it was hard. she would have tried. so i don't know who the fuck visited me that day in prison, but— that wasn't her. ” that's what she's told herself the last few years in her determination to move on— because it was easier to separate tai into two different versions: the one she loved, and the one who hurt her, because that made it easier to come to terms with the fact she lost her.
her jaw clenches again, realizing she fucked up, but it's easy to brush it off like it doesn't mean anything, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “ nat, obviously. but trust me— i never fucking asked. ” that's not entirely true, either; there's been a few times when mikayla has, telling herself that it's just because they went through something horrible together, so of course she's curious, never stopping to consider the fact that she can't say the same about some of the other survivors. her head falls back in annoyance when tai, again, accuses her of not giving a shit, because it's not true, and she's sick of hearing it. “ okay, yeah, you got me. i didn't give a shit, ” she agrees sarcastically, because arguing against it seems pointless when tai won't listen. “ nice to know you think i'm as heartless as everyone else does. ”
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7 Snippets, 7 Mutuals
Thanks for the tag @otemporanerys @misseffect @dwarrowdams !
Some of y'all have already been tagged but here we gooo: @dispatchwithlove @kalliesa @sinelaborenihilsr2 @angry-jager @dulcidyne @westernlarch @jtownnn
A mix of snippets from BG3 and Mass Effect.
1) Reclaim the Night (Halsin/Astarion, very very WIP)
“I'll have you know that I'm quite comfortable with nudity." A sly grin plays across his lips as he reflexively eases into his familiar role. "Especially when the nudity is so pleasing."
Except… it’s no longer quite a role he’s playing, is it? Astarion’s reaction to Halsin had been real, his body, for once, corroborating his words, his wants.
The druid exhales a chuckle as he laces up his vest. “It is only as nature made me." He pulls his hair back, and while he looks less… wild this way, it’s still quite a nice face.
“Yes, well,” Astarion answers, unsure of what to do with not only that, but the druid’s seemingly genuine response to what would normally be an empty flirtation. But Astarion, always one to land on his feet, recovers and dons a grave, approving expression as he claps his hands. “Splendid work, nature. No notes.”
2) Reclaim the Night
“It’s fortunate that I ran into you,” Halsin says as he moves to his other arm, girding the thick muscle in leather. “I’ve been wanting to thank you—sincerely—for all your help.” He tugs the strap as he did his belt. Then, his eyes bore into Astarion’s with an intensity that stops Astarion’s carousel of libidinous musings.
“It means more than you know,” the druid says, “that strangers, with no reason to help other than we were in dire need of it, risked their lives to not only free me, but ensure safety and peace within the Grove.”
For a few seconds, Astarion simply blinks, taken aback by both the sentiment and the gravity Halsin puts behind it. He quickly collects himself and answers Halsin's gratitude with a scoff and a dismissive wave.
“Think nothing of it. It’s what anyone would have done.” The lie triggers no moral dissonance, as usual. Until Halsin responds with a skeptical brow that feels personal. Astarion looks away and inspects his nails, the scuffed toes of his traveling boots, the ants in the dirt—anything but the way Halsin sees him.
Halsin kneels and pulls on his sandals. “No, it’s not,” he says. “And there’s something to be said of the hearts of those who do good despite their instincts.”
3) Waiting (Halsin/Tav, also very WIP)
On his hand she places hers, tilting her head with a knowing look. “You're worried about me."
"That I am,” Halsin admits. “Though not for lack of confidence in you."
“It's only a little trip to the hells," she says, stroking the back of hand before placing a soft kiss upon his knuckles. “That's all."
“Come back to me, my heart.”
She smiles up at him, so radiant it almost, almost drives away his fears. “Don't I always, Love? Now, are you going to give me a proper kiss goodbye or save it for my return?"
Though his heart continues its tight, troubled beat, it’s tempered by her spirit; for the moment, his heart aches with affection more than anything else.
"I have every intention of doing both.”
4) One (1) New Message (Shakarian)
“Get your own kills, you sniping bastard.”
Massani’s irritation blasts over the squad’s comms once again as Garrus leaves yet another geth destroyer a crumpled heap of chrome and sizzling, smoking metal.
“Cool it, Massani.” It’s definitely an order, but the smirk in Shepard’s voice is clear as crystal. “Plenty to go around.”
Geth bombers rain down in warbling spins as the squad presses forward. The mercenary scoffs. “Just not very efficient, two of us having a go at one glorified toaster.”
5) Waiting
“… then the doors shut behind us with a SLAM!” Renyx says with a loud clap that makes everyone, even Halsin, jump. Firelight dances in her eyes and shadows play across her face as she leans forward conspiratorially. She holds them all under her spell. “And that’s when the singing starts."
Astarion pouts. "I always miss the fun ones. Take me with you next time.”
“Come now," Wyll says with a grin. “Like some infernal chorus?"
Renyx shakes her head. “No, no. All him."
Easy laughter crackles around the fire. Halsin's laughter is tempered, however, as he studies Renyx. The sight of the light dancing across her skin warms him more than the campfire itself. But despite the crackling energy in her storytelling, the sheer power and charm of her, there's something she's holding back, something hidden in the shadows of her narrative. He hopes to learn what it might be, if ever she might wish to share it.
Karlach waves her mug about, shaking her head. "I shit you not, the bastard sang to us. Sang to us! Of our demise!”
"Whilst delivering said demise, at that,” Gale adds. "Were our mortal souls not in such peril, I might've asked where he got his nerve. Might've even taken pleasure in the tune.”
“Well, someone took pleasure in the tune," Karlach says, casting a sly grin in the gith’s direction. “Pretty certain I caught Lae’zel humming bits of it on the way back.”
Lae’zel, sitting just outside the fire circle, looks up from buffing her armor and cuts her eyes at Karlach. "If I ‘took pleasure’ in the ‘tune’,” she hisses, “it is because my mortal soul was never in peril.”
6) One (1) New Message
Flashes of scarlet along the bridge ahead. Garrus sweeps the length of the bridge with his scope until he finds them. There, near the north end of the bridge—two geth units, each armed with a rocket launcher. One of them dips behind one of the metal panels running along the bridge, the other, Garrus tracks with his scope until it stops.
“Vakarian, at your ten!” Taylor warns.
Garrus swings back to the first unit and his scope comes eye to eye with the launcher’s muzzle, a flaming projectile screaming toward him.
His Viper spits a quick shot, knocking the geth unit backwards and over the railing as Garrus dashes out of the rocket’s path. It collides with the concrete behind where Garrus had been crouched, leaving a smoldering, blackened pit in the wall and scattering offshoots of fiery debris on the ground.
7) Bingo Card (Shep/Nihlus NSFW)
Shepard shrugs. “Yep. Never banged a turian.”
His eyes go wide, mandibles slack in surprise. “Nothing at all?”
“I mean, there was this errant blowjob on a recon mission. But I was under a lot of stress, as you can imagine.” Shepard downs the last of her drink. “Not my best work.”
A flush spreads up Nihlus’ keel. He starts pouring another drink. “So… no do-overs, huh?”
Shepard laughs. “No, my mouth and his cock simply weren’t meant to be. He’s a nice guy, though. We laugh about it now.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Trust me,” Shepard says, her voice breathy with amusement, “it was bad.” She beams at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, though. Good to know you have so much faith in my oral talents.”
“What can I say, I only work with the best.”
The silence settles between them.
#would love to finish one of these someday#bg3 fanfiction#mass effect fanfiction#halstarion#astarion x halsin#halsin x astarion#halsin x tav#shakarian#garrus x shepard#shepard x nihlus
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Little snippet from a vashwood reincarnation comic that I do not have nearly fully fleshed out in my head with written down text that would surely be 50+ pages and which I will probably get to draw never aaaah
#you know I would LOVE to draw this comic someday#but I can not start another one while having 2 to finish and I need to work on portfolio stuff for after uni D:#this comic would be much more vw centered than my other au cause it would just be vash meeting wolfwood reincarnated about 200 years later#and then they slowly acclimatise to each other's proximity with this thing hanging in the air between them#this thing being all that was left unsaid and unfelt but can be felt now without the looming threat of battle and a free future ahead#sighs#I wish I could show you and for once have the thing fully drawn out#this scene being the start of probably my favourite scene from the end#trigun#trigun spoilers#vashwood#vash#wolfwood
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revisiting crassus, clodius, and the bona dea scandal! but this time with a new composition and a limited color palette
originally when I drew the first version of this idea, it was back when I thought that crassus would be a week long fixation at most (lmao), and instead he just. took up permanent residence in my mind. it seemed like a fun thing to go back to an earlier idea and see what changed now that I've spent a lot more time with everyone involved in this era!
also the way these two interlocked politically. I am. biting into it.
The Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson
Crassus: the First Tycoon, Peter Stothard
Crassus: A Political Biography, B. A. Marshall
Crassus, Clodius, and Curio in the Year 59 B.C., Robert J Rowland, Jr.
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
#for example. i even know who catulus and caelius are now. i did Not know who the fuck they were when i drew the original one#now im like. wow. those sure were some allegations. goddamn#i forgot that ive drawn crassus and clodius fucking before. i'll revisit that someday. ANYWAY. time for some organizational tags#marcus licinius crassus#publius clodius pulcher#roman republic tag#do i. have a tag for the bona dea scandal. i should#drawing tag#ALSO the first tycoon book. it's not a good reference point. i disagree with uhhh like a good third of it. BUT it is an EXTREMELY sexy#read. i would love an HBO show using this book as a point of inspiration. im not kidding. id watch it so fast#i was reading something that implied clodius role in the bona dea scandal was actually partially crassus' machinations#to undermine both caesar AND pompey. and once i finish digesting THAT thought. i will. draw a comic probably
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Skyfire has started leading Raymond up towards the exit of area zero before finally getting the courage to ask.
"So Raymond, I actually just finished up getting the paperwork done for this." Skyfire started "I know how you've been bounced around from foster home to foster home for years. And I know you still fear going back there. Well I want to help change that."
Skyfire pulled out some paperwork as they stopped walking and turned to Raymond.
"I want to officially adopt you Raymond. I want you to know that you won't be bounced around again from one home to another. While I already thought of you as my son, I wanted to make it official in the eyes of mainly the government and the league. And I wanted you to be okay with it.
I want you to be a part of my family. And I do wish for you to meet some of them someday. I bet my brothers would love to meet you." Skyfire rambled, a bit
G’mornin…
Wait how long was I out for?
(@alolaveralabs)
Raymond was on top of Skyfire's bed. Which had been moved to be in contact with the a wall, likely to prevent stuff from falling through, and the frame was gone, leaving the boxspring, mattress and other things to stay on the floor.
The hanging lights strewn above on the metal walls illuminated the few shelves and posters that gave a bit of life to the place. The place was dim right now because the main lights had been turned off seemingly. Making the smallish research station seem bigger than it is.
Skyfire themself was sitting, semi curled up on a area rug that covered a portion of the cold metal floor. They had a blanket on them and were leaned up against some pillows. Their rotomphone in their paws, and it seems like Zip had returned to it.
They had Ghost on their lap, and Sapphire next to them. They looked up at Raymond and waved a bit.
"Morning, well afternoon at this point. You've been out for a while actually, but that's okay, you needed the rest." Skyfire explained.
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aaa my buddy is slowly pulling me back into tales of vesperia OTL
idk if i have time to play it again anytime soon sadly, but i definitely want to redraw/ revamp some of my old art of it and make some new *3*
suddenly all my memories from loving judith and raven are rushing back to me... ughh i forgot how rare they are but i guess i'm not unfamiliar with super rare ships so
i'll become my own provider once more XD
#delete later#tales of vesperia#idk i just feel like they missed a great opportunity between these two T_T#would have love to see raven breakthrough and have judith being his new flame or something... i want more than just the flirting XD#i almsot wanna make a doujin / fan comic for them T0T plus omg they got my favorite color themes#something bettwen like 20-30 pages...#i hope i can make this old dream happen someday#popular or not i really don't care anymore#if it makes ME happy and who knows#maybe liek 1 other person then its all good#aw fuck i almsot forgot i rly gotta finish those meloghia ones theyve been laying around for the past 5 or 6 yers now UGH
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and theres also the scrolling format manhwa i so desperately want physically. they did it with raeliana PLEASE do it with a wicked tale of cinderellas stepmom PLEASE please
#also i would love a translation of the novel physically while ur at it. pwetty please <3#who was it who suggested a wicked tale of cinerellas stepmom to me that one time. thank u so much this thing CHANGED me#its so so good. i love that mildred will kill.#ive also read and really enjoyed not sew wicked stepmother (has some big TWs but i remember it handling things pretty well) and#-okay yeah i have a thing about the moms leave me along HJKDSHBJKSd listen i just wanna be the dad who stepped up. is that so wrong#anyway i'd really love a physical release of that too. they're probably waiting until theyre finished like raeliana is i assume#but ouuuhhhhhhhh i hope someday. someday#EDIT: WAIT THEY ARE RELEASING NOT SEW WICKED PHYSICALLY NOW HOLY SHIT#oh this is bad for my wallet.#im still waiting for that wicked tale of cinderellas stepmom physical release. come on kakao i know you can do it
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my husband ranks my f/os.png
things i love about this:
he has watched moon knight, yet didn't recognize jake lockley or marc spector
he does NOT know who rex is. he said he just likes that picture of dt hgfsdfhh
wtf did din do to him
i love who he put in 'my wife needs help.' it's everyone i expected him to put there
i thought 🪓❄️ would be in the last category tbh
WTF DID POE DO TO HIM
#oh lord tagging on mobile sucks#d; youre a book thats not quite finished but ill watch you fill the page#m; ive been fooled many times; but you seem to truly be mine#ac; as sure as god made black and white#c; i love everybody because i love you !#b; after youre gone and the house is mine alone#kr; she'll answer me wherever she may be#j; im holding tight- will you come back someday?#a; baby are you coming for the ride?#h; inside the hollow word i can only hope this will do some good#r; i bet on losing dogs#f; im taking your girl and making her mine#e; cant your heart find its home in me#m; a love made of matches is destined to burn#m; moonlight to show the way we can follow#o; somewhere in these eyes im on your side#n; no one ever said it would be this hard#p; lets fall in love for the night#b; youre still the only light that fills the emptiness#d; ill be yours till forever falls apart#o; run away now and forevermore#m; falling for him was like falling from grace#p; i shouldnt cry but i love it starboy
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B (What was the first fandom you read fic in? Which was the first you wrote fic for?) and U (Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet?) for the ask meme!
Oo, fun!
B. Let's see, the first fandom I read fic in would have to be my very first fanfiction I read ever, Embers by Vathara in Avatar: the Last Airbender. It was a fun read, and got me in to fanfiction in general, although I took an immediate turn into Marvel fanfic based on my friend's suggestions and didn't get back to ATLA fic until years later!
U. I am not a big writer of pairings - I tend to focus on other aspects of characters, and prefer to explore other themes. I am also very aromantic, as I've discovered over the past few years, which may explain some of my disinterest in some of the more unrealistic premises. The shipping field also feels a bit oversaturated, at times - most fics are shippy, and I'd just as soon leave that to the experts and fill the niche on non-shipping stuff.
That being said, I fully intend to finish my Thrawn/Eli Ghost Marriage AU sequel, with ace!Thrawn and not-ace!Eli negotiating their relationship. In terms of new pairings for me, I also have an explicit Thrawn/Samakro fic outlined, which is basically There Was Only One Bed and Samakro deciding to show Thrawn up (by fucking). I'll probably keep ace!Thrawn, since that's how he exists in my brain, but either sex-favorable or sex-neutral (not sexually attracted to anyone, but interested in/willing to have sex for other reasons).
Outside of Thrawn, I do also have an Anakin/Padme College!AU kicking around that's more shippy (with Anakin the Football Player/Engineering Major and Padme the PoliSci Major and their terrible, terrible choices - Palpatine is the University President and the usual nightmare influence, tragic ending), probably teen or mature with lots of dumb college romance things and like, boombox in the rain kind of stuff, while the plot continues to derail in the background!
Thanks for the ask! Always fun to dig out the ol' WIPs, nothing's ever abandoned in my folder, I just write slow, I promise :) And you never know what will get the writing brain going, sometimes it's that 3-year old WIP and who am I to deny the call? XD
#i can keep talking about these!#i love all my wips#...would love to finish them one day :')#someday i will have time to write more#and it will be glorious#until then#i will continue picking at them#one word at a time!#star wars#ask game#star wars fic#my fic#my wips#shippy#thrawn x samakro#anakin x padme
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Song of the Day: March 26
"Songs About Rain" by Gary Allan
#song of the day#you might think that this is the opposite of 'Groovy Little Summer Song' but nope! closer to same because (drumroll)#they are one of the very best categories of thing: Country Songs About Country Songs#I love them. I adore them#'Songs About Rain' is one of the strongest and best examples of type I have (also 'Cheatin Songs' by Midland. impeccable)#'and it sure ain't easin my pain / all these songs like / Rainy Night in Georgia / Kentucky Rain#Here Comes That Rainy Day Feelin Again / Blues Eyes Cryin in the Early Mornin Rain#they go on and on and there's no two the same / oh it would be easy to blame / all these songs about rain'#what a gift. what a delight. legitimately hard to sing this song in a mournful voice because it makes me so damn happy#anyway as you might glean from how this is posting at 3 pm my time: my sleep schedule is /fucked/#I did have part of the bad conversation with my boss on Monday (immediately followed by garden times#which so overtook me that I spoke only about the garden and good spring feeling in my song post. what a blessing the garden is)#but mostly what happened is I said 'hey it is technically possible for me to make this but it will not help it will not do anything useful'#and my boss said 'but you can make it' and I said 'yes but we shouldn't. it will be a waste of time' and she said 'make it by Thursday'#and I said 'I absolutely cannot make it by Thursday. if I finish instead this better thing I've already been working on--'#and she said 'no we don't care about that thing. make part of the useless thing. by Thursday morning'#and I said 'if I bring you part of the useless thing and part of the good thing and I directly compare them in front of you--'#and she said 'we'll look at whatever you have Thursday morning but it's the useless thing we care about'#so the meeting is scheduled and I'm going to plead for the life of my better thing and probably the best I'll get is permission to do both#which is. I mean the useless thing is going to be a time-waster for sure but at least it won't be actively detrimental to anything?#it'll be fine I'll make it be fine. the inherent problems of when your boss doesn't actually know what you do for them I guess :/#(also maybe. maybe if it comes down to it. maybe I'll just make the good thing for myself and use it to make my own life better#and someday maybe they'll ask for a project that works and then I'll be able to dramatically unveil it but either way I'll benefit from it#hmm maybe yeah)
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starting to realise that damn maybe there really is just something fundamentally wrong with me
I have more dumb shit to say about it but you can only have 30 tags?? that's some fucking bullshit. anyway tl;dr: fictional characters not real, I'm depressed about it, I'm a mess my life's a mess everything sucks, I'm crying, life sucks. I've got issues.
#I don't want to be dead#I want to be alive but. not here. there's nothing that could happen in my actual life that would make it good enough to be worth it#I feel so fucking pathetic and gross and broken but the only people I want to be with are fictional#I can't even do the fandom thing and make friends that way. I don't want to talk about them. I want to be with them and nothing else#I'm just. stuck here and I'll never be happy and there will never be anything that I want as much as that#it's so. fucking. pathetic#but like what is there in real life. what could happen that would be good enough. I'll finish uni one way or the other. I'll get a job.#maybe we'll be able to have our own house someday#and then? what then?#it'll happen over and over again. I'll fall in love with these fictional worlds and these fictional people and it'll break my heart every#time again and again until I die#there's nothing else. there's nothing that I want. nothing in real life will ever feel that good because. obviously it won't. it's real.#it's not perfect it's not made up by me specifically to be everything I want#I can't rewrite the same scenario over and over again in my mind until he says exactly the right thing to make me feel better#I'll never have these perfect friends or this perfect guy or this exciting but safe life because it's. just. not real#I just#I don't know how I can keep doing this#I'm so tired#I can't keep feeling like this#it feels so fucking bad#how goddamn embarrassing is it to be an adult in your 30s and just. lie in bed sobbing until you fall asleep because your fucking fictional#crush isn't real and your fictional friends aren't real and you'll never know what happiness feels like#because it can't even get close to the fucking joy you feel when you think about them. it's everything#it feels so fucking good just for a moment and you need it over and over again but you know you can never have it#I'm driving myself insane#genuinely insane.#to the point where every time it gets worse. every time I get these feelings I feel higher and lower than ever before#it feels better and more intense and more amazing. then I realise I still have to be here. I still can't go away. and it feels like dying.#every time a part of me dies.#it's so fucking silly. I know how melodramatic this all is. oh wahh life is so boring and I'm sooo sad over these fictional people I'm gonn
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spent almost 6 hours in the study room yet not feeling very productive
#before that studied 2 hours in my room too :/#somedays i listen to music while studying#but today it felt like studying while listening to music ykwim#i would love to exchange my brain for one that could actually focus on stuff#i know i wasn't entirely unproductive#i did finish bits#but not as much as i would like to#it's only 10:30 i could stay downstairs for four more hours easily if i want to#but holy heck my brain feels foggy tonight#i do love to study i love staying surrounded by education#i just wish i could give more or just as much as i am actually capable of instead of whatever i am doing to myself#zztudying#febs are for emerson having a crisis over exams wahooo#might sleep early tonight head's getting dangerous
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