It was almost a full year since Juice found out he was a dad. There was a lot of difficulties to work through as you and Juice became co parents. It took you a while to trust him, he was a complete stranger at first. But Juice really proved himself and he was the best father to Anthony.
Co parenting was so easy to work out. Juice was more then willing to do anything for Ant and for you. It was really nice having him around. With raising your son together, Juice easily became your best friend in all of this.
Juice would watch Ant whenever you had work, no question asked even if it was an over night or rotating shift. He always told you if he was going to be away for a run or whatever club businesses. Sometimes Juice stayed all weekend at your house to spend time with Ant. Sometimes you let Juice take Ant for the weekend when he knew he had absolutely no club businesses to deal with.
It was perfect.
Juice was more excited then normal today. He loved his son, more then anything. He’s pretty sure his son taught him what love was. It was great seeing Anthony growing and learning. He was more and more like Juice everyday.
Juice quickly was wrapping up at the club house. He got everything he needed to do out the way. Sure he would still pick up calls from the club but he really hated having to make any runs when it was his time with his son.
“Where you in a rush too?” Happy asked as he watched his brother running around the club house with his book bag.
“With Ant this weekend.” Juice said with a smile. The club was more then supportive when finding out about Juice having a kid. They never let him live it down when they found about what the pool table part.
“staying at Y/N house?” Jax asked with a teasing smile. He knew how Juice felt about you. He didn’t try to hide his feelings either but with learning to co parent together, starting anything romantic wasn’t a good idea.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something.” Juice said mumbling more to himself as he double checked everything. He felt like he was in a rush to see Ant and you. He parked his bike in your drive way in his usual place.
“Hey Y/N.” Juice said as he made his way in the house. He walked over to you placing a kiss to your cheek as you where busy in the kitchen.
“Hey Juice! You’re earlier.” You said smiling up at him. He was the father of you son, he quickly got comfortable sending so much time at your house. You liked having him around.
“Sorry, I should’ve called to let you know.” Juice said, he still felt like he was on eggshells around you. He didn’t want to cross a line and ruin everything. He wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you and Ant. You both where his family.
“No thank god your here. I’m running late and Ant’s been having a tantrum since last night.” You said making Juice laugh as you ran through the house.
“Daddy!” Juice heard a loud voice followed by tiny foot steps running through the hallway.
“Hey Ant.” He said easily picking up the three year old into his arms.
“Mama said you where being bad.” Juice said as he walked through the house. He felt so comfortable here, it felt more like home then his actual home. Well his dorm.
“I have left overs shrimp and rice in the fridge when you get hungry. Theres also a weird noise coming from the hall bathroom anytime you turn the sink on. I’ll be back probably early morning. or the middle of the night.” You said as you threw your hair in a bun already in your scrubs.
“I’ll have my phone, so call me if-” Juice caught you off by handing you the keys.
“I got it, don’t worry. ” Juice said leaning down placing a lingering kiss to your temple making your smile. You loved the extra attention Juice has been giving you. It was hard not to fall in love with him when he was literal perfect. He was such a gentleman. He took care of you and Anthony. He was an amazing father.
“You’re the best.” You said as you stood on your tippy toes and gave Anthony a big kiss on his forehead.
“Be good for daddy.” You said giving him a stern look. You see a big goofy grin on the toddler that he got from his father.
“No kiss for daddy?” Juice asked making you blush as you grabbed your things as you gave him a little glare.
“Well now what do you want to do today Ant?” Juice asked as he plopped down on the couch with the toddler. Any was more like his dad everyday, he was even picking up Juice’s habits the more time he spent with him.
It was a long day, or both you and Juice. The hospital was so short staffed you felt like you where doing the job of 4 different nurses. Juice had his hands full with Anthony bossing him around all day. From wanting to go to the park, to trying and help Juice fix the skin at the house. Anthony most definitely had Juice’s ADHD.
It was around 1 am, Juice was passed out laying in Ant’s small race car bed. He clearly didn’t fit his legs hanging off on the floor. Getting Ant to bed was a challenge every night. Juice had to tell him at least 4 different stories before Ant fell asleep on his chest.
You groaned as you walked into the house. It was spotless, like always. Juice always cleaned up, you didn’t want him to but he did either way. You smiled realizing he fixed a few things around the house as well.
“Juice?” You called out not seeing him on the couch. You walked into Ant rooms smiling when you found them cuddled up against each other. You quickly took picture of them knowing it was going to be your next background on your phone.
“Juice wake up.” You said shortly rubbing his shoulder.
“Y/N your home already?” Juice grumbled in a deep husky voice as he looked over at you in your scrubs. He easily picked up Ant as he got up leaving the toddler in the bed.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Juice said as you both walked out the room.
“Thank you Juice.” You said giving him a big smile making him melt inside.
“You don’t got to say that. I love being here with him.” Juice said. He kept to himself that he loved being here when you where here too. This was the worst part, he hated leaving.
“Do you want coffee or something before you go?” You asked your eyes watching him desperately.
“That would be nice.” Juice said following you into the kitchen.
“How was work?” He asked as he watched you move around making a cup for you both.
“You know, stressful and busy.” You said as you hopped on the counter. Juice was leaning over watching you. He loved having moments like this alone with you.
“How was Ant today?” You asked Juice knowing there was always some good stories he would tell you.
“He’s been asking for a little brother to plat with. He told me I’m old and I’m not good at playing tag.” Juice said giving you that charming smile of his.
“Oh god.” you groaned covering your face as you felt it heat up.
“ I told him, maybe for Christmas.” Juice joked back only making your face redder. He knew exactly what he did to you.
“Juice!” You yelled smacking his arms only making him laugh.
“Have you thought about having more kids? in the future you know. If you meet someone.” Juice asked feeling his heart get heavy.
“I’ve never thought about it. I never really thought about meeting someone and letting them into Ants life like that.” You said as you watched Juice. What you would give to be able to read his mind.
“Have you ever thought about us?” Juice asked, as he stepped closer to you. He was standing between your legs as you sat on top of the counter.
“I have Juice. Your an amazing father. Honestly you take care of me too. I don’t know what I would do without you now.” You told him looking in his brown warm eyes.
“I would like to stop pretending to play family. I want to be here all the time for Anthony, for you. I don’t want to have to leave. This feels like my home. You both are my home.” Juice admitted his hand coming to rest on your cheek. It was warm to the touch as Juice admitted his feeling to you.
“Can I take you to dinner friday?” Juice asked only making you laugh.
“I would love that, now kiss me Juice.” You said pulling your arms around his neck pulling him back to you. His large hands rested on your thighs as your legs locked around him. The kiss was painfully slow, as you both enjoyed the feeling of having the other against them.
“Maybe Ant could get a little brother or sister.” Juice mumbled into your lips making you laugh. He always knew how to make you laugh no matter what.
The hospital was abnormally busy, even for Charming. You weren’t anyone important, just ICU nurse. You always wanted to help people and Charming had a charm for violence as it seemed like it.
You didn’t even know how but you lost track of time. You had a 13 hours shift, you would work rotating shifts so you’d only have to work about 3 days a week.
“Shit.” You groaned when you noticed a few missed calls from Ashley the babysitter. There was no way you could leave right now, it almost felt like the hospital was over run.
“Code blue- Male 40 gun shot wound.” Your pager went off in your pocket. Just when you thought you could finally get out of here. You quickly rushed over to the stretcher taking over chest compressions from the EMT. Just another day.
You where finishing up your rounds, ready to go home. You check one the gun shot patient who was in recovery from surgery. The vitals where normals as you wrote them down in the chart.
Juice walked in through St Thomas, he was on watch over Tig. He froze right before he could walk into the room. He immediately knew it was you even from your backside. This was the last place he thought he’d see you. The past couple years and he’s never run into you here when he and club the club where always in and out of st thomas.
You stood there in dark blue scrubs and your hair slipped back with a claw. He leaned over the door watching you as bite your lip as scribbled in the chart. As if you sense someone, you turned, your eyes locked on his.
You felt like a fish out of water not sure what to say. Was he really here, right now. It was odd to see him, he reminded you of your son. Every time you looked at him you saw more features that your son has.
“Hi I’m Y/N, I’m the nurse on duty for Mr. Trager surgery. Vitals are good, he should be waking up in a few hours.” You said hoping to get out of this room. Juice just leaned against the door frame making sure there was no way you could squeeze past him and run away again. You tried desperately not to check him out as he crossed his large arms over his chest. His eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.
“Well Y/N, you seem very familiar.” Juice said trying to get straight to the point. He wasn’t going to let up one you. It was faith throwing you in his face and he couldn’t let you run again. Even if he sounded crazy.
“Must have one of those faces.” You said giving him a smile. You heart was pounding so hard in your chest, you swore he could probably hear it.
“No, I think we’ve met before.” He said and he wasn’t implying about when he saw you on main street out side the dispensary. He wasn’t sure if you really didn’t know who he was or if you where playing dumb.
“I’m not to sure, did you go to University of San Francisco?” You asked trying to avoid bringing up anything at this point. He couldn’t possible remember you from a drunken hook up.
“No, I think it was a little more intimate then that.” Juice said raising his eyebrow at you. He was tried, really tried. It was a long day and his patients was growing very thin.
“I- uh i have other rounds to make.” You said as you tried to slip past him. It was a dumb idea as his much larger frame blocked you from gettin gout the door. You weren’t prepaid to be this close to him. You where surprised at how your body reacted to his. Like you wouldn’t mind ending up naked on the pool table with him again. Why the hell where you feeling like this.
“Y/N-” Juice started but you roughly pushed past him through the door way. He felt like his body was on fire as yours roughly moved against his. It was out of instinct as his hand reached out for yours stopping you in your tracks. His hands felt so warm in yours.
“I need to go, sorry.” You said not even giving him another glance before making your way down the hall. Juice let you go, he knew your name, and now at least he knows where your work. He could tell there was something off, that you where hiding something. It all confirmed that it was you that night with him on the pool table. Now the bigger issue is the little toddler that was with you. Juice wasn’t sure if he was crazy for thinking he could be the father. But something was just not sitting right with him about all this.
SUMMARY: Bishop gets a late night visit from a man you never thought you’d see again.
WARNINGS: 18+ only; drugs mention; 1.5k words
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Tay, please remember to take deep breaths and that I love you.
It’s dark when you wake up again, the clock telling you it’s well past midnight. Ez is gone, having slipped out sometime after the meeting was over. By the time you get back to Santo Padre, your sleep schedule is going to be fucked. As it is, having nothing to do, you find yourself sleeping more just to make the time pass.
Opening your door to the common area, you see Bishop sitting alone, the TV on but muted as he watches the colors move on the screen. “Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nah,” you wave your hand at him. “I’m good. How are you doing?”
“Never been better.” You can see the lie in the bags under his eyes, the tired hunch of his shoulders.
SUMMARY: Bishop gives you a surprise that lets you reconnect with the rest of the club.
WARNINGS: 18+ only; 1.7k words
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love prospect!EZ
The next morning, you wake up alone in bed, the TV turned off and the blankets pulled over you. You must have fallen asleep and Hank either went next door or called some of the guys and met them back out on the strip. You stretch, joints popping back into place as you throw the covers back.
Crawling out of bed, you walk to the windows, throwing open the curtains, letting the mid morning sun fill the room. The sidewalks below you are still full of people. New York City might be known as the city that never sleeps, but you haven’t seen as many people in your life as you have since you’ve been here.
Warnings:I’m not the best when it comes to following writing rules. I pretty much write how I want to, so if you’re a stickler for grammar and what not just ignore it or don’t read loll (I’m nice I promise.)
A/N:This is my first time writing from the ‘YOU’ perspective or second person view so please go easy on me. It seemed like the best way to write this drabble and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. I don’t usually write non smut or fluff so I hope this is good
Ezekiel’s heart skipped a beat whenever he laid eyes on you. To him you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He thought maybe his crush was based on the fact that he’d been in jail for so long but once the feeling persisted he knew it was real. Your smile, your touch, your voice all warmed his heart and body. His heart ached for you. Needing to be close to but never being able, with you being Bishop’s niece and Alvarez’s daughter. EZ knew it was a terrible decision to fall for you. Who could blame him. All the members wanted you, none of them had the guts to ever act. EZ was different; he knew you were worth the risk.
EZ walked into the club as the loud music caused the walls to vibrate. He scanned the party for a few moments before spotting you near the bar drinking a beer with Angel and Coco. He took a deep breath before walking over to greet everyone. After a little small talk he asked you to talk somewhere private. Tonight was the night he was going to lay it all on the line for you.
A/N : here’s a little smidge to get you all riled up cuz I’m a monster like that ♀️
Release Date : TBD but soon!
Tags: this is my first Mayans fic so hit me up below if you want in
----
You opened the tailgate of your Wrangler, leaning in and stacking a couple boxes together to take inside your new apartment. You’d managed to snag the house rental for a song and a dance and you couldn’t be happier. The landlord didn’t ask questions, didn’t have you fill any form out and seemed content with the cash deposit…perfect! Santo Padre was, in every way, the furthest thing from your past life, which made it the perfect place to start over. New ID, new home…new life.
You eased back out of the Jeep and bumped into the tailgate. The top box slid and you attempted to counter, but it was no use. The box dropped to the driveway and spilled your sketchbooks and drawings across the pavement.
“No! Shit shit shit!" You placed the boxes back into the Jeep and dropped to the ground, desperately trying to collect books.
—
Bishop stepped down from the porch to the driveway, the bright morning sun glinting off of his bike. He scanned the neighborhood, as he always did each morning before he left for the day. Being El Presidente came with its own heat and he made the habit of being on top of his surroundings.
His gaze landed on the black Jeep in the driveway nextdoor. Guess Juan finally managed to find someone to rent the place. Wonder what fucker he swindled-
Bishop’s breath hitched as you moved into view from around the Jeep. Holy shit… you were absolutely gorgeous…and definitely not from around here. No way in hell he would’ve missed seeing you in town.
He watched as the box you were carrying crashed to the driveway, you cursing trying to collect the books.
Bishop moved and quickly snatched up the flyaway papers, gathering them neatly together.
A page caught his eye and he glanced over them as he stepped to you. Graphite potraits and city scene sketches adorned the papers.
"Impressive." He smiles, handing the stack to you. "You’ve got quite the gift.”
“Thank you." You return his smile, placing the papers back into the box.
"Sorry," Bishop shakes his head, smiling in apology. "I’m next door." He motions with his thumb over his shoulder before holding out his hand to you. "Bishop."
You took his hand and eyed him…leather kutte…patches…. El Presidente. Your eyes flicked behind him to the bike in the driveway next door. Might not be a bad idea to have the President of the local outlaw bikers in your pocket.
"Y/N” You smiled warmly.
Bishop returned your smile, not missing the guarded, calculated once over you gave him.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Need some help with all this?" He motioned to the boxes in the hatch of the Jeep.
"Gosh, that would be awesome-" Your phone rang, interrupting you. "Sorry, one sec." You set the box down, retrieving your cell from your back pocket.
Bishop averted his gaze from you and quickly took stock of the items in the Jeep. Five -not entirely large- boxes and one back pack. This wasn’t a premeditated move…you were running. The question is, from what?
"You don’t have a spare truck?…but I already paid for everything to be delivered today….I can’t-" The line clicked as the department store hung up on you.
"You’ve gotta be kidding me" You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. "Shit.”
You looked up to Bishop, his questioning gaze meeting yours. “The department store’s truck is down and they don’t have a spare. Said it’ll be another week at least or I can rent a truck…..guess they expect me to be able to move everything by myself. " You sighed angrily.
"The one in town?"
You nodded. "Yeah,” as you hauled a box out of the Jeep and began walking towards the porch.
He followed suite with another box as you entered the house, taking note of the few other boxes you must’ve moved in before he’d come out this morning. Still no where near enough to be all of someone’s possessions. “I’ll have the guys go pick everything up for you." He set the box down against a wall where you’d motioned.
You spun around to him. "Bishop, no. I can’t ask you -”
He smiled, holding up his hands. “You’re not asking, sweetheart. What type of neighbor would I be if I didn’t help when I could?”
You eyed him… gauging if he was doing this to pull the card later if he wanted something. “I don’t want to be in debt to anyone.”
He smiled softly, reading your apprehension. “It’s not like that at all, querida. No strings.”
—–
Hours later, after thanking the men for all of their troubles, you’d attempted to hand Bishop a wad of cash but he gently placed his hand over yours and refused. That warm smile assuring you that no payment was needed.
You’d decided that you were not going to be in debt to this man. He may not see it that way, but you did. He’d been so generous, you had to do something as a thank you. You’d made your rounds to the grocery store and the butcher shop (that one the guys insisted on - the owner, apparently, was the father of two of the men) and you had just now finished making a heavenly lasagna. Making a plate, you wrapped it in foil and headed toward the door. You checked out the window to see if his bike was still in the drive before heading over.
You footsteps faultered as you stepped on his porch.
What if he has a wife?
He didn’t have a ring, no other car in the drive… And so what if he did? This was a simple neighborly thank you… you’re literally just dropping off a plate of food. You straightened your shoulders and rapped on his door.
Your heart pounded lightly in your ears as you waited, hearing heavy footsteps approaching. You smiled as he opened the door, his eyes taking you in as he returned your smile.
You held up the wrapped plate. “A token of my gratitude for all of your help today."
His gaze flicked briefly to the plate before returning to yours.
"I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet so I - I just wrapped it up. Homemade lasagna." You held the plate out to him as you rambled. He waited a moment before accepting it, his warm gaze never leaving yours.
"Y/N, you didn’t have to–”
You put your hand up, halting his words. “Please… let me do this?”
He smirked, dropping his gaze a moment before meeting yours again. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
—-
And that… was how it all began.
Moving in next door to Bishop Losa.
That one fateful moment sparked a fierce protective love with the Mayan President… and as a result, you found your new family within the club.
But now….
Was the club even aware of your kidnapping yet?
How long had it been since you’d been taken and where the fuck were you?
More importantly….was Bishop still alive?
Images of his broken body bleeding onto the living room floor flashed across your mind.
This was all your fault. You should’ve known better than to think you could run from your past.
Sobs broke from your chest as you violently fought against the metal wrist restraints, screaming into the darkness.
Today, Amazon announced the imminent launch of its newest endeavor, Kindle Worlds, a publishing platform for fanfiction. When I read the announcement, I was horrified, then angry, then sad. I want to take a moment to explain why this is such a tragedy.
Blast this to all the writers you follow! I cannot find my tag list atm so I’ll just wing it off the top of my head and of course i can’t think straight right now
[ read on AO3 ] Pairing:Miguel x Reader/Nun (Latinx, WOC)
Word Count: 2415
Story Summary: Miguel is hiding in Mexico under an assumed name in his Aunt’s church, where he catches the eye of one of the nuns about to take her vows.
Story Warnings: Sacrilegious themes, NSFW, some praise kink, loss of virginity, explicit smut (18+)
A/N:This is written solely based on the events of episode 4x04, so my assumptions about Miguel’s story may not be accurate, and obvious spoilers for this episode. I also am not a religious person and those elements are based on surface research I did and there will be inaccuracies. But you’re probably not here to read about my thorough understanding of Catholicism, right?
══════
You tend to your daily chores as you watch Madre Superiora’s nephew from the window— the mop of dark curls flop over his sweaty brow, as he bends over the rusty water pump. He wipes the sweat off with the back of his hand before filling the basin with cool fresh water. Splashing his face, he lets out a satisfied sigh.
“Are you ready, Sister?” Sol Sofia asks.
You sweep the same patch of tile over and over again, and she senses your mind is elsewhere.
He catches you staring at him, his lips curling into a quiet taciturn smile. Martin pauses, and waves. This was how Madre Superiora hesitantly addressed him, almost a year ago when you found him on the doorsteps of your church, a somber and broken soul. She was as surprised as the rest of you to see him. “Mi sobrino… Martin,” she finally said, but some days you could have sworn she called him by another name. She forbade the order from speculating about her nephew and his history. He is here to give penance, and reminded the sisters that gossip is a sin of speech.
For the first few months Martin found odd jobs on the church grounds, rising at sunup to go to the quarry to collect stones for the wall in the cemetery, and working till sundown. He kept to himself and took his meals separate from the sisters. You always brought him the food, as you were burdened with the most chores as the newest of the convent. It was simple sustenance in keeping with your vow of poverty— a bit of bread, and some soup. He never spoke to the other sisters, only his Tia, but nodded in gratitude when you would hand him his tray. As the months wore on, you found yourself developing a soft spot for him. “You take on too many strays,” the other sisters joke, as you tear off heartier and heartier pieces of the daily loaf for Martin. He notices this too, and finally one day he speaks to you. “Thank you, Sister.” His voice was deep and velvety and did not match the gruff and rugged exterior. For the first time in your brief life, you felt like you were hearing the voice of God.
“Ready?” You repeat, distracted. Your throat is parched, and your response is clipped. It must be the summer heat.
“Yes. To answer the call?” Sol Sofia says. Ah, yes… You will take your vows, and devote your life to Him, to God tomorrow.
The two vows of Poverty, and Obedience you understand — to live a quiet life in complete love and service, and to want for nothing before the eyes of our Lord. This is something you know well since you entered the church as a novitiate. But since the arrival of Martin, it is the third vow of Chastity with which you struggle. You have prayed for God to grant you the wisdom to take on this sacred promise. You read about such sinful desires in the Holy Book and wonder if the Lord is testing you, by burdening you with such unbridled lust for this stranger. It is wrong! It is sinful to think about pleasures of the flesh! You prayed nightly for a resolution to no avail, waking up with your heart racing and an unfamiliar wetness between your legs from dreams unfit for repetition.
Martin returns to his work and you continue with your chores. You white knuckle the handle of your broom, as a heat creeps up the neck of your habit. You tug on the collar, needing to catch your breath.
“Yes, Sister,” you finally answer. “I wish only to live to serve Him.”
══════
In the evening you return to the chapel after the other sisters have retired for the night for one final opportunity to ask God for counsel.
Sitting in the first pew, you take in the quiet and the beauty of this sanctified space illuminated by candlelight. “Father in heaven,” you pray, folding your hands and closing your eyes. “I open my heart and my mind to you. I pray for your forgiveness and ask you for guidance.”
“I believe in your grace with all my heart, but I know you hear my thoughts and know they are impure. I want to be good; I want to be clean, but I am struggling with my faith and my vow of chastity. Before I am yours forever, I want to know if I could belong to another… if only for a night.”
The large wooden door to the chapel creaks and startles you.
You let out an audible gasp, head spinning to see the interloper. Martin! Did he hear you? You wonder.
“Hmm, my tia keeps pestering me to have a conversation with God, but I see you’re already here bending his ear,” he says, walking down the aisle. Before you can object, he takes a seat next to you in the pew.
“It’s late. I’m just about to turn in for the night,” you stumble over your words. “I will take… I will take my vows tomorrow, and need to pray on it one last time.”
“Did your conversation with God clarify things for you?” He asks with genuine interest.
You gulp, lips trembling. “Not one bit.”
“I’m sure whatever problem vexes you can resolve itself tonight,” He gently unfolds your hands and when you do not retreat, he strokes your knuckles. “May I? I never properly thanked you for your kindness, Sister. I imagine it can’t have been easy to have me here, an extra mouth to feed, a stranger seeking sanctuary.”
This is your calling. You chuckle nervously and cite the life’s purpose you believe you hold so dearly.
“I live to serve our Lord. My body is a vessel for his goodwill,” you say, as your cheeks burn, and you avert your eyes from his gaze.
“Sister, do you believe your body could be a vessel for anything else?” His voice is silky, and his words slither inside you.
You are a novice in many ways, and yet you understand his meaning. Beneath the long white robes of your habit you squeeze your thighs, unsure if you wish this throbbing sensation to subside. His forwardness both surprises and excites you.
“I have prayed—” you say quietly, uncertain of how to respond. You have dreamed and fantasized about this moment. “—I have prayed for an answer. Lust is a sin, but I worry my faith is wavering.”
His laugh is hearty. “Desire, it is a natural sentiment. I do not think our good Lord would want you to deny this feeling.” He dips his head seeking affirmation. “Do you desire me, Sister?”
You finally work up the courage to face him. He is still holding your hand. Martin’s curls are slicked back, fresh from the bath. His lips are wet and his eyes sparkle as he takes you in.
He is so beautiful, like some sort of Messiah. But you still dance around the question. You are afraid of giving power to your words.
“I heard you ask God if you could belong to another for tonight, but tonight you belong to no one,” he says simply.
He is giving you a choice, and so you choose honesty.
“I don’t want to wonder about what I’ll be missing before I give myself to God,” you say, reaching for your rosary. You rub it in your hands hoping it will give you the answer you seek.
He approaches as if you are a frightened, skittish deer. “I can show you.”
He bows his head for a kiss, his beard tickling your skin. The sensation of his warm lips on yours spreads through your body and you push into his touch. He lets go of your hand and snakes it around your waist. His nimble fingers undo your tunic, and you let it fall to the floor.
You pray God will forgive you this one indiscretion.
Martin’s hands are skillful, grabbing and squeezing your tits, and caressing your neck as his tongue dances across your lips. His eyes are hungry, fixed on your chest, and the curves of your exposed flesh.
It is new, but you like this— this feeling of being devoured.
He stands up and drags you to your knees, unbuckling his belt and pushing his trousers down. You have never seen a cock before and your eyes grow big as he presses it against your face.
“Can this pretty mouth be a vessel for me?” He whispers.
You give him a hesitant lick and he sees how far he can push your lips apart before it is too much for your throat and your conscience. Shh shh, he says. He doesn’t force it, and your shallow, innocent sucking is enough. Martin’s breathing is restrained. You can feel him get harder and harder in your mouth.
“Do you touch yourself, Sister? Do you know how to?” He asks again, voice husky with want.
Mouth full of cock, you shake your head shyly. He brushes your cheek with affection and removes himself.
He sits you down on his lap, one arm tight around your waist and your bare bottom rubbing against his erection. “Like this, Sister,” he says, guiding a trembling hand between your legs.
With his guidance, he works your fingers over your wet pussy, letting you set the pace and explore your body. It’s all so new and the sensations are so overwhelming, like a sin waiting to be absolved.
“It feels wrong, but in a good way,” you breathily admit. “I don’t know if this is how—”
He cuts you off. “You’re doing so well.” He kisses your shoulder and pushes your hand aside gently. “Let me help you.” His firm fingers rub your swollen clit and you feel yourself losing your mind. He teases your folds and slides two digits in, checking your reaction to this intrusion.
“Yes… oh my,” You sigh.
He mutters a word you dare not repeat as your tight pussy grips him. He slides in and out of you at a punishing pace. Your eyes roll back when his thumb circles your little nub and you choke back tears, thighs shaking.
“You just came, mi amor,” he says, proud as can be. He holds up his hand to show you how you’re dripping with sweet honey. You collapse against his chest as he licks you clean.
The strange feeling between your legs went away for a brief moment, but at the sight of him sucking those long digits clean of you, it returned immediately. You turn to kiss him, threading your fingers through his dark hair, hips rocking against his throbbing cock.
“I want more, please.” You do not recognize the voice of this woman. Martin only grins at the little monster he has created.
“Isn’t greed a sin?” He teases.
He sees your lip quivering and catches it between his teeth. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” His kisses are wetter, harder, but he is as good as his word. Every part of your body that he touches comes alive.
The pew is small but you make do. He sheds the last layers of his clothing, lays you out beneath him, and pulls your leg over his shoulder. In the flickering candlelight his big brown eyes look even more ravenous, his sweaty muscles glimmering. He grins and lays a playful kiss on the inside of your knee, never breaking eye contact.
He collects the wetness from between your legs and uses it to stroke himself before carefully pushing himself inside slowly and firmly. If you have to spend a lifetime atoning for this moment, you know it will be worth it.
You gasp. This is different and hurts more than his fingers. As he makes his way deeper and you feel yourself stretch, you start to ache but can’t help but want more.
“Shhh, I know… I know…” He soothes, and the pain slowly dissipates. You learn to grind back against him, bodies moving in unison. Your fingers crawl down your belly to touch yourself just the way he showed you.
You cry out his name, and his hips stutter. He shakes his head no. “Shh.. shh…,” he hushes, as a big hand comes down to cover your mouth, before finding respite at your throat. He is of two minds, squeezing only hard enough to silence your words.
His hips buck desperately, fingers pressing into your flesh, fucking you hard. He feels you coming and unclenches the grip around your neck. Your body is exploding into a million pieces and becoming whole in the blink of an eye. The sensation is too much to bear. Your veil is loosening and falls to the floor.
“I don’t only want to be a vessel for God, I need to be filled as a woman,” you beg, tears rolling down your face.
Your body is shuddering as he slowly pulls out. “Come here,” he orders, pulling you up and shoving your head into his lap. You know what to do, as your mouth closes over his cock. You can taste him, you can taste you, and what you made together. His creamy hot seed flows down your throat, consecrating your body in the empty chamber of this chapel.
The candles have burned down to the last of their wicks, and you and Martin will soon be enveloped in darkness.
He pulls you to curl up on his lap, and you hear his heartbeat slow. You press tiny kisses to his sweaty neck, breathing him in.
“Can we stay like this a little longer?” You ask, and he nods. He doesn’t want to let you go either.
You trace the ring dangling from a gold chain around his neck, and he reaches to clutch it protectively. “It belonged to my mother,” he finally says.
“And this one?” You take his left hand in yours, playing with his fingers.
He stares at the gold band and twists it. “I broke a promise to a wife I had in another life,” he says simply. There is hurt in his voice and you do not press further. He fingers the silver cross nestled in your bosom. “And you? Has the Lord answered your prayers?”
“Tomorrow, I will be married to God, Martin.” You know you can never take back tonight.
“It’s Miguel,” he says, the last flames extinguished. “My name is Miguel.”
