#god be merciful when i die and face my sins
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prumanoenjoyer · 4 months ago
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I swear this was only meant to be a cute piece where they kiss I was possessed by the dark energy of PruMano it was not my fault
Absolutely losing my mind over how Gilbert looks submissive somehow
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What if PruMano was called freakmano...
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juliakristeva · 1 month ago
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currently struggling with the question.. why did jesus have to die for our sins? a friend recently asked me and she's atheist, and I thought I knew the answer, but then i went blank.
i could give you some trite and theologically correct response about how god loved us so much that he had to offer his only son to ransom us from the sin we chose to commit (john 3:16) but that's not...what i personally believe? and i know a lot of christians who will not like my view on the issue of grace. but i believe he didn't have to die for anyone's sins: he just wanted to, because he is love. but every day we are faced with the choice of whether or not jesus has to die. jesus was a victim above all: he allowed himself to become that in solidarity with all victims, across time and place. you can believe in a chronological history of time in which we are in the breath before christ returns to divide the sheep from the goats, or you can believe that he sublimates history and know that every day, every choice we make, every person we encounter, asks us to spare christ. christ died to be a symbol of the human capacity for mercy and its failing. he is in us as we are in him: thus we die with him, and we can save with him. when we are loving we walk jesus out of the tomb. the purpose of christ's death is to make us unfraid to look into the darkness of death and suffering, and grasp the hand reaching for us.
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heesdreamer · 2 years ago
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skin on skin
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader
GENRE ➩ religious corruption au, church boy jake au, evil reader
WARNINGS ➩ heavy criticism of religion in an extreme exaggerated manner, manipulation, multiple smut scenes, the mc is straight up mean and evil and says mean things all the time lol. parental and spousal abuse… think that’s it maybe lol it’s an intense read
WC ➩ 20.4k (😵‍💫)
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ the spacing is a bit weird because apparently this exceeded the length amount in tumblr… i don’t care about your think pieces on religion or the way it’s discussed in this so please don’t try to educate me on the actual ways of christianity! it’s a story! that being said this is in no way making a mockery of jake and his religion. this is my favorite story ive ever done and i had a good time writing it which is rare lately so i really hope you enjoy it and if you make it to the end let me know what you think! hope you like it as much as i do
It wasn’t like you came out of the womb with horns and a little forked tail.
The nurses didn’t scream in terror and your mother didn’t faint at the sight of you, it wasn’t some grand discovery that anybody could see or anybody could plan for.
You made it through your formative years relatively normal, or at least as normal as you could be considering who your father was. But it wasn’t until middle school when you realized how different kids would treat you because of this.
Those were your favorite years you could remember. The half decade before anybody cared, or knew enough to care, what it meant for you to be who you were. Then you were old enough to have consciousness and design your own set of morals, something all the parents in your town dreaded.
Your town was barely that, more so a few neighborhoods sprawled across barren lands with more fields and trees than concrete and signs of the modern world that had seemingly developed everywhere, except for where you’d been born.
Sometimes you wondered if you’d been cursed to stay here forever. It seemed like everybody who was born here, died here, but unlike you they all seemed pretty content with this fact. Proud even, the elders stating the amount of years and generations they’d own their rusty old homes like it didn’t create a nasty pit in your stomach.
Time was frozen and the world had moved on, leaving all 2,000 of you behind to die and birth and die again until eventually the last generation killed themselves off in an act of sympathy, a mercy slaughter.
It was probably immoral to be thinking about your entire town dying whilst in church. But you didn’t think much about the implication of having sinful thoughts anywhere, regardless of how many crosses were currently burning stares into your back.
More than 70% of your life was spent inside these four walls, on this exact weathered seat on this same old pew.
See, when turned 12 years old and the kids at school made you aware of the fact your dad was the lead preacher at the only church in town, you figured this made you some sort of royalty.
Not once did you feel the overwhelming holy presence of god that everybody else seemed to be experiencing everyday after school and work when you all settled in together to listen to your fathers teachings.
You’d sit with a scowl on your face, turning around in the front row pew reserved for the preachers family and you’d observe the people around you. You knew everybody in your town, some more than others, but you always thought people looked different when they prayed.
The nice man who worked at the grocery store looked far more guilty and weathered with his eyes closed and the angry woman two blocks away who yelled at the kids riding their bikes too close to her sprinklers, looked peaceful like she was talking to an old friend.
Your mother would hiss under her breath in an attempt to catch your attention, sending soft pinches to your thighs until you’d begrudgingly turn back in your seat and plop down in your puffy dress, tuning out the sound of your fathers loud voice.
Looking back on it now, your mother seemed to notice the dark parts of you brewing before you even did. The two of you never saw eye to eye and despite the fact you were her only child, much to her dismay considering they tried for years after your birth to have another but to no avail, she never treated you with any sort of motherly warmth or kindness.
She’d glare at you from across the dinner table while her and your father conjoined hands and thanked the lord for the meal that your mother had cooked. You’d started to sit on your hands at dinner when you were 7 years old and what once was a cute misbehaving habit quickly became the warning sign of your future endeavors.
Still, part of being the preachers family was playing an act. So you’d all get up early in the mornings and wordlessly move around the house like the backstage of a play, dressing the part and giving bright smiles to each family that walked through the doorway on Sunday morning.
Your mother would stand behind you with a long stretched out smile, hands on your thin shoulders as she dug her nails down every time she felt you tense up at a greeting.
Then you were 16 and for the first time in your life, you heard her voice the thing you’d always assumed she believed. You stood in the hallway in your nightgown, standing stiff as a board to avoid the creaking wood of your old house, peering around a dimly lit corner to hear your parents conversation more clearly.
“She hasn’t done anything wrong Mary.” Your fathers rough low voice was flowing in your direction, sounding tired and agitated. You could vaguely hear the sounds of his rough hands rubbing over his unshaven scruff in frustration.
“She will.” Your mother sounded panicked and alert, desperate for him to understand her case. “I can’t explain it but she has this darkness in her, I’ve felt it ever since I was pregnant.”
Your breath caught in your throat as they spoke, understanding now they were referring to you. You were only slightly surprised, no grand feelings of fear or betrayal arising.
That nights conversation had ended with your mother in a fit of tears and your father uttering words of reassurance in an attempt to calm her down as you used the sounds of her loud sobs to sneak back to your room, getting under the covers and blowing out the candles by the time your father was opening your door to insure you were in bed.
He’d stood there for a few minutes, the door cracked with his hand on the knob. Do this day you wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was expecting you to talk in your sleep or he was trying to get some sense of the evil your mother was spewing about, but eventually you heard his tired sigh and the door shutting.
It’d been three years now since that conversation and you still hadn’t fully understood the evil your mother was referring to. You didn’t believe in god, that much had been clear to you from a very early age but you didn’t believe in the devil either.
You didn’t feel things maybe you should be feeling, sadness when an elder passed away unexpectedly or happiness when a new baby was born into the community. You didn’t feel pain when your mother shot you looks of disgust and you only felt slight jolts of satisfaction when she leapt in fear every time you entered a quiet room.
The seed of evil that was apparently inside of you never bloomed, no matter how much you waited for its arrival.
Until the day the Sim’s arrived to town.
It was extremely rare for somebody to move out of your hometown, and you’d been instructed to never speak about the families that left, to let yourself forget their names and faces. Forget any interaction you’d had with them now that they were gone.
But you’d never once contemplated the fact that it was possible to move here willingly. It hadn’t occurred to you that somebody would choose this place to live and that they’d be allowed to stay peacefully, and especially not given a grand welcome.
So you felt yourself uncharacteristically thrown off guard as you found yourself at church on a Saturday, typically your only day you weren’t required to be here. You’d spend these days down by the creek or riding around the abandoned section of town on your bike, trying to find something interesting to see.
As you stood near the stage, where your fathers podium was perfectly centered and polished, greeting the usual faces with a forced smile, your eyes landed on the most interesting sight you’d ever seen.
The Sim’s were a direct mirror of your family as they stood in front of you. Only three of them, a tall man giving your father a sturdy handshake and laughing like old friends and a small meek woman who was holding your mothers hand in both of hers, a thankful smile on her face.
Placed directly in front of you was a boy, seemingly your age, shifting back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to initiate any form of greeting.
There was people your age in town, your graduating class held 25 kids and over half of them were girls, daughters that were considered blessings for their special ability to continue on your towns population. You’d met boys, few handsome but handsome none the less but nobody who looked like the one standing in front of you.
He was taller than you, peering down at you from behind thin framed glasses and about double your width. You imagined you were hidden behind his shoulders to the view of the people stood in line behind him, waiting to greet your family.
His skin was tanned, something that you imagined wouldn’t last long considering you weren’t sure your town was blessed by the sun at all, almost constantly grey and dreary looking even in the peak of summer.
You took your time observing the boy, not feeling any sense of urgency at the knowledge people were watching and waiting, not even at the fact your mother was stood directly next to you and you could feel her stare on the side of your face. Her loss of attention seemed to make the boys mother nervous and she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“And this is our son, Jake.” She was chirping out and you almost wanted to laugh at how desperate she seemed to impress your family. The boy, Jake, was looking at you still for a second before his eyes shot to your mother and he gave her a nervous smile. “He’s shy at first but he’s a very good boy.”
His eyes flicked back over to yours as she spoke and your mouth quirked up in a small smile, finally sticking out your hand in offering to him.
You felt a strange feeling build up inside you, splattering against your ribs and painting your insides with something deep and powerful. As you held his hand in yours, your eyes caught onto your mothers and you could see the fear crossing over her expression at her own realization.
“Hi Jake.”
And the seed bloomed.
——
It wasn’t more than 30 seconds after your father finished his last word, the remains of it still echoing throughout the room underneath the chorus of ‘amen’s, that your mother was gripping your arm and dragging you back into his office space.
She closed the door swiftly and you yanked your arm out of her grip with a scowl, staring at her for an explanation about her sudden behavior despite having a slight inkling of what she was about to say to you.
“You can’t.” She spoke vaguely, an angry desperation in her voice like you were a feral dog with a hungry look in its eye.
“What are you talking about?” You lowered your agitation, doing your best impression of a confused and fearful daughter. She scoffed at your expression and held a hand to her mouth like she was genuinely amazed at your audacity.
“You leave that boy alone Y/N, or so help me God.” She was shaking her head at you and you felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, her voice shaky and weak.
You thought she was slightly pathetic. She’d spent her entire life treating you like the devil, implying your evil and avoiding you at all cost but the second you finally start to understand her concern and she’s immediately turned to pleading and bargaining. There was no fun in this for you.
Soft knocks against the door caught her attention and she looked over your shoulder, trying to ignore the fact you were still staring at her and not bothering to turn and face whoever had entered.
“Go home and get dinner started.” Your fathers voice was entering the room now in a hushed whisper, like somebody was still outside behind him. “We are going to have a welcome meal with the new residents.”
Your mothers eyes shot back in your direction at his words, like she was begging you to remember her previous warning and you offered her a small smirk before turning to face your father with a toothy grin, expression changing now.
“Of course father, whatever you need.”
——
You’d ignored your mothers glare the entire time you worked on dinner together, setting the table casually and changing into a less formal dress that gained a thumbs up of approval from your father.
When the Sim’s arrived, you greeted them similarly to how you did at church except your mother made sure to shake Jake’s hand for a prolonged amount of time so you couldn’t, only breaking apart when your father cleared his throat and ushered you all towards the polished dining room.
He took his seat at the head of the table and you briefly wondered what type of man Jake’s father was. He was larger than your dad, much larger and you noticed a hint of irritation in his face when he took a seat on the side. You imagined he sat similarly to your father at his own house and didn’t find great pleasure in the new arrangement.
There was three seats on each side and your mother had rushed to take a middle seat next to you, attempting to block anybody else from being seated beside you.
However your father cleared his throat subtly and sent the both of you a small glare, confused at the fact she hadn’t adorned her usual seat next to him. You were sure he realized it would be strange for her to sit a seat away from him, making them look distant or troubled.
She sent you a small angry look but shifted over a space so she was now sat in her usual place, leaning an empty chair between the two of you.
An empty chair that was soon taken by Jake, his mother sending him an encouraging smile and giving him a slight nudge in your direction. You remembered what she said about him being shy, not hiding the fact she was trying to create a friendship between the two of you.
His mothers face angered you more than your own. She was small and weak looking, constantly smiling with wide eyes like she was waiting to drop into a conversation at any time to force a connection, yet she rarely did throughout dinner. For the most part she stayed silent, nodding along obediently every time her husband spoke.
So you kept your attention on the boy for the most part, figuring the adults were too busy kissing eachothers ass’s to care about what the two silent teenagers were doing at the end of the table.
You knew he could feel the way you were watching him, sending you small glances out of the side of his eye and shifting uncomfortably in his seat every time he realized you were still looking.
He really was handsome you were deciding. You’d never really paid attention to boys before, understanding the difference between being attractive and not but it didn’t have any affect on you. You liked the slope of his nose and the way his throat bobbed with every nervous gulp he took.
Your father was seemingly noticing your mutual disinterest in the conversation, you watching Jake and him watching his empty plate. “Y/N honey, why don’t you take Jake to your room and show him some of your notes on our latest teachings.”
Both of your heads turned towards him as he said this, your eyes lighting up with excitement and Jake’s widening slightly.
“Oh..” His mother was starting and you resisted the urge to glare in her direction. “Jake isn’t… he’s never..”
Jake’s father sent her a sharp look and she snapped her mouth shut immediately, looking away from him. Your excitement only doubled as you realized she wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with a girl, leading you to believe he never had been before.
“Of course father.” You smiled at him softly, standing and flattening out your dress in a prudish manner. Jake glanced in your direction as you stood, clumsily rising out of his own chair as you headed up the stairs and down the hall to your room.
He followed wordlessly behind, still not speaking even when you stood in the doorway and let him awkwardly squeeze past you so he was stood stiffly in the center of your room. You closed the door behind you and he froze, eyes widening again.
“What are you doing?” His voice was high with worry and you realized it was your first time hearing him speak.
“What are you talking about?” You played dumb as you observed him, walking backwards until your legs hit your bed and you could sit carefully. He stayed standing as he watched you with confusion and worry.
“Mother says not to close doors.” He was shaking his head and it looked like he wanted to go and open it himself. He didn’t move however and you leaned back to rest on your hand, cocking your head in his direction.
“Do you always do what mommy says?” You questioned.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your condescending tone. You’d seemed nice enough at church and dinner, not speaking much but polite to your parents whenever you did. He was suddenly worried he had angered you.
“I guess she did say you were a good boy.” You quoted what his mother had said when she introduced him, voice carrying a faint mocking tone as you spoke.
He didn’t say anything after you said that, just standing there looking at you like you were some form of animal he’d never seen before. And maybe he hadn’t you were beginning to think, his speech was structured and tight like he was reciting lines and you were curious if he’d ever had a conversation with somebody his own age.
Your hand reached over to pat the bed next to you, raising an eyebrow at him and urging him to sit.
He watched you with that same look for a few seconds before looking back at the door like he was contemplating how fast he’d have to bolt out of it before you could sink your claws into him. He seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, crossing the room and sitting down as far away from you as he could possibly get.
“Where’d you come from?” You didn’t plan to say that but the curiosity was driving you crazy, not quite understanding how he could be so sheltered.
“A village not far from here.” He was eventually answering with a soft shrug. He was sat perfectly straight on your bed, posture making him look even taller than he already was considering you were still leaned back on your palm.
You should’ve figured he was from a village, suddenly understanding why his mother was practically a house wife from the 1800’s and his dad looked relatively similar to a lumberjack.
“No girls at your village?” You were watching the side of his face as you questioned him, growing slightly agitated that he wasn’t looking at you. “Jake.”
He turned his face towards you when you addressed him, eyes widening like he was worried you were going to scold him from the sound of your stern call.
“I asked you a question.” When he didn’t immediately answer you assumed he hadn’t heard you, repeating yourself. “Was there no girls where you’re from?”
He was shaking his head swiftly, looking at his hands and then back towards you. “None like..”
“None like me?” You interrupted him as he started to trail off and your lips quirked into a smile. “So no pretty girls then.”
He frowned as you hummed and nodded your head like you’d made sense of what he was trying to say. He didn’t look like even he understood what the things you were saying meant and you almost pitied him as you slowly unlocked the full extent of his naivety.
“You’ve probably never even held hands with a girl right?” You kept your tone sweet despite your intentions.
He looked like he only slightly relaxed at your change of tone, glancing at you as he shook his head as a way to answer your question. He didn’t understand why you wanted to know this.
You were sitting back up straight, off your hands, and leaning sideways to get closer to him. He watched you with panicked eyes as you reached down near his lap and took his hand in yours, similarly to how you shook it at the church but the tension in the room was a direct opposite.
He made a strange noise when you touched him, a semi squeak at the suddenness of your contact and you smiled at him, scooting closer so you weren’t awkwardly stretching your arm in his direction.
“How does it feel?” You murmured, fighting the urge to lean against him and whisper in his ear. You didn’t want to scare him off just yet.
“I don’t think I should be in here.” He was shaking his head as he spoke and staring down at your conjoined hands or maybe the floor past them. They were resting in his lap, the back of your hand on his right thigh.
You frowned softly although he wasn’t looking at you, trying to keep up with your act. He seemed to be more pliant earlier when he thought he had upset you. “Jake.”
He glanced at you as you said his name, just like he had before, and his gaze looked guilty when he noticed the frown on your face. You squeezed his hand to try to bring his attention back to the fact you were touching him but he shook his head again.
“I really need to go Y/N.” He was still trying to sound polite despite his obvious discomfort and you almost smiled at the innocence of that.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You let a small whine sink into your tone, really trying to drive home the idea that he was upsetting you and you felt him squeeze your hand absentmindedly.
He didn’t reply after you said that and the room fell into a strange silence. Then he was sending a heavy glance in your direction and your mouth parted in realization, understanding his inner monologue by the thick amount of guilt in his expression.
“You do want me to touch you.” You let your smile show now, not finding any reason to hide it now that he clearly took your bait. He squeezed his eyes shut as you said this and shook his head again, his hair messy now and falling into his face.
“What’s wrong Jake?” You were almost cooing at him, your hand sliding out of his and up his wrist, in result the back of your hand going further up his thigh. You kneaded at his wrist bone and he grunted at the almost painful sensation. “It’s just skin.”
He looked at you with a frustrated expression, holding eye contact for a few seconds much to your surprise. You were almost worried he was going to cry. You didn’t mind it personally, if anything you were thinking about how pretty he’d look with watery eyes and a red nose, but you imagined it would cause some level of concern with the parents.
So you released your grip on his wrist, taking your hand back and placing it on your own lap. You were still sitting far too close to him but he visibly relaxed at the lack of touch, however slightly confused why you had backed off.
Almost like the world had been paused for the entirety of your conversation and now played again, a soft knock on your door caused you to leap away from him and grab the bible your father insisted was kept on your nightstand at all times.
You were relieved to see his face when the door opened, knowing your mother would have most likely immediately sniff out what you’d been doing. Or at least attempting to do.
Your father looked between the two of you and the large space, nodding in approval when you flashed him a smile and opened to a random page in the book. He didn’t seem to notice how tense Jake was or the fact your door had been closed in the first place.
“Your parents are leaving Jake. You can stay a bit longer if you two are having fun.” Your father was saying in a welcoming voice but Jake was hopping off your bed before he even had a chance to finish.
“No, sir. Thank you but I really should get home and finish unpacking.” He was stumbling over his words and awkwardly shifting in place, waiting for your dad to move out of the doorway so he could make his escape.
Your dad shot you a confused look over Jake’s shoulder and you gave him a small shrug, fighting the urge to smile.
——
Guilt was eating Jake alive the entire ride home. He wasn’t quite sure what he had necessarily done wrong, what level of sin he had just committed, but his mother kept shooting him disappointed looks in the mirror.
“Will you stop looking at the boy like that.” His fathers gruff voice was mumbling from the drivers seat and his mom snapped her eyes back to the front window obediently. “It’ll be good for him to make a friend.”
“What type of girl leads a boy to her bedroom?” He was surprised his mother had spoken again, especially in the harsh tone she was using. She must’ve been angry enough at you and your behavior to forget the fear she held for Jake’s father.
He felt a bit strange as she said that. You were definitely weird and had made Jake feel something he’d never experienced, and he positively wanted to leave your room as quick as possible but he didn’t think you deserved such a mean comment.
He continued to feel strange for the rest of the night.
Jake laid in bed, hours past his usual bed time, and replayed your interaction in his head. Every time he got to the part where you grabbed his wrist in your tight hold, he squeezed his eyes shut and asked god to forgive him.
He could feel his stomach light up when he thought about your hand on his pants and he wanted to dig his nails into the skin as a self punishment for the thoughts brewing in his head, thoughts he had never had before and didn’t understand.
Rolling over in his bed, stomach to the mattress, he stuffed his face into his pillow and cried softly until he eventually fell asleep.
——
You felt giddy in the church pew the next morning after seeing Jake walk in with his parents. You immediately knew your plan had worked judging by his puffy face and swollen eyes. He’d clearly gotten no sleep and you could take a strong guess at the reason why.
A sick part of you was ecstatic at the fact you had something to do, something that actually managed to catch your interest.
If all it took to keep Jake up all night was you touching his hand, than you were preparing for more fun than you originally thought.
The morning had gone routinely as you remained in your seat for the entire sermon, not spinning around to try to catch a look at the boy despite the urge constantly in the back of your mind. You didn’t focus for a second but you did a solid job pretending until you heard a hushed voice behind you excusing themself.
You snuck a glance back to see Jake passing through his pew with muttered apologies and thanks to the people he was passing, smiling softly at them.
You watched him exit the pew and make his way down the main aisle, no doubt heading towards the bathroom hall since it was the only other part of the building outside of your fathers head office. You let him disappear from your sight and counted to 30 before abruptly standing and following his path before your mother could grab your hand in denial.
By the time you made it to the hall, Jake was exiting the bathroom with damp hands and a few wet strands of hair like he had splashed his face in an attempt to wake up.
His eyes widened when he saw you approaching and he glanced behind him like he was considering disappearing back into the bathroom so you couldn’t say anything to him. You smiled at this but didn’t move closer to him, leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing?” He watched you with careful eyes, not quite sure what you wanted.
You shrugged and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you doing? You look tired, did you not get any sleep?”
He didn’t say anything as he looked at you, eyes heavy and guilty again like he was afraid you could read his mind. Unlucky for him, you didn’t have to read his mind to know what was happening in it.
“Were you thinking about me?” You pushed forward on his suspicions when he didn’t respond to you, tilting your head as you looked at him.
He didn’t respond again, letting out a small tired exhale before leaning against the wall opposite of you. The hallway was tensioned despite not being close enough to touch even if you stretched your arm out.
“I was thinking about you.” You suddenly confessed in an attempt to catch his interest or potentially get him to lower his walls enough for a solid conversation. It seemed to work considering his head was snapping up and he was looking at you with wide questioning eyes. “Is thinking a sin?”
He watched you for a few seconds, slightly embarrassed that you had somehow realized what his inner dilemma lead back to.
“Yes.” He answered matter of factly and you let out a small laugh.
You observed the way his lips awkwardly quirked up, like he was pleased he made you laugh despite being dead serious in his answer. His smile pulled at his cheeks for a second and you liked the way he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.
“What… what were you thinking about?” He squeezed the words out like they were painful after a silence fell between the two of you. You felt a bud of satisfaction at the fact he’d been curious enough to ask.
“Touching you.” You shrugged like it was a casual thing to say, watching his shoulders tense and his mouth part slightly in shock and disapproval.
“My hand?” You were a bit surprised that he asked a follow up question, voice dropping into a scared whisper like he was worried somebody was eavesdropping, maybe he was worried god could hear him.
You were watching him for a few uncomfortable beats, liking the way his cheeks turned red and he kept looking away from your gaze anxiously. Then you were shaking your head to answer his question, taking a step closer to his side of the hall.
His breath hitched as you kept taking small strides in his direction, taking your time with a loose smile on your face like you were out for a casual walk. You stopped next to him, turning and pressing your back against the wall he was leaned on so your shoulders were pressing together.
You wondered if he was planning to hold his breath the entire time you were touching him this time around, his face reddening even though your skin was separated by multiple pieces of thick fabric.
“Would you let me touch you again?” You leaned over slightly so you were closer to his ear, your chin hovering over his shoulder.
“You can’t.” He was immediately denying your request, stiff and agitated sounding. His voice was tight as he spoke like he was having to force the words out. “Please don’t do this.”
“Because you’re a good boy right?” You were even closer now, your lips touching the shell of his ear and he was shuddering against you, a frustrated whine in his throat.
He sent a sharp glare in your direction, at least as sharp as his features could get. You thought he looked cute when he was mad at you, eyes brows furrowed and his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. Despite the way he was looking at you, he made no attempt to push you away or step apart himself.
“I want you to come to my house after church.” You whispered to him and he didn’t say anything, for once not shaking his head and just looking at you as you spoke your cruel demands. “I’ll tell my dad to talk to your parents about helping you catch up on his teachings.”
He looked amazed at your audacity, to not only lie to your parents but to lie about the lord and the Bible made his stomach turn in disgust.
Still, he almost couldn’t help but to lean his shoulder closer to yours and watch you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. He felt almost transfixed by you and your newness, the unique energy you gave off that made his head spin. He nodded his head slowly and watched you smile.
——
You’d waited for your mother to leave the house, a very rare occurrence for her outside of her weekly bingo nights at the recreational center in town, before you poked your head into your fathers office to request he calls the Sim’s.
You felt strangely jittery as you waited for them to send Jake over. Surprisingly, the Sim’s hadn’t moved into a house that far from you and you imagined he could probably ride a bike to your house in less than twenty minutes if the weather ever allowed it, rainy days an almost constant feature around this time of year.
It was only around half an hour before you heard knocks on the front door, followed by the low tone of your fathers voice and eventually the creaking of the steps as somebody made their way up to your bedroom.
Jake seemed thrown off when he saw you, dressed in far more casual clothes than he’d seen you in so far. He also looked momentarily relieved at the fact your door was wide open and you didn’t make any move to shut it as he crossed into the threshold of your room.
“Hi.” He politely addressed you with a slight bow and wave, avoiding looking at you fully where you sat on the bed. You gave him an incredulous look and sighed before patting the spot next to you.
He looked like he was dreading this but expecting it, only taking a few seconds of hesitation before he was shuffling over and sitting slowly down on your soft bed. You immediately scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand in yours.
His reaction wasn’t as intense as last time although he did immediately stiffen and his eyes snapped wide open, but he didn’t let out a small shriek at the feeling of your touch like he did yesterday.
“Are you going to let me touch you today?” You kept your voice low and he was suddenly very aware of the fact your door was completely open and your father was just a few feet away downstairs.
He slowly looked over at you, peering up from behind his long eyelashes and you wanted to grab his face with your nails. He looked like a puppy who had just done something naughty, big eyes unmoving from nerves as they darted around your face so he could avoid holding your strong gaze.
“This isn’t right.” He whispered back, eyes pleading as they finally locked onto yours. You almost felt sorry for him as he spoke, obviously so desperate to set you back on the right path in life. “Mother said I shouldn’t lay a hand on anybody, not even myself.”
You almost smiled as he said this, pleased at the new information he was unknowingly providing you with.
“It’s just skin.” You were reminding him again, slowly leaning against him so your chest was pressed against the side of his arm. His breath hitched at this and he glanced down at your upper body for a second. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
He shook his head immediately, face annoyed like he was offended you’d even suggest he would do such a thing. You liked that even though he was uncomfortable and denying his thoughts towards you, he still wasn’t seemingly capable of pushing you away. He’d still shown up to your house.
“I touch myself.” You were leaning forward more so you could talk into his ear again. A soft whimper left his throat when your lips grazed his skin again but he didn’t say anything, like he was waiting for you to continue. “On this bed, I touch myself every night.”
It was a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t really felt a strong need to touch yourself ever, never having a subject of attraction that left you longing enough that you’d roll around in bed late at night thinking about it, squeezing your thighs together in frustration.
But you were transfixed by the way he immediately tensed again, glancing back behind you towards where your pillows were and then immediately shooting forward and falling to the cross hanging on the wall in front of you both.
“It’s just skin.” You repeated to him again and he sucked in a shaky breath as you said it, bringing his guilty pained eyes back to you. You almost cooed at him, clicking your tongue and holding his chin softly. He leaned into the touch like he wasn’t meaning to and you wondered how touch starved he must be.
Your hand that wasn’t holding his face fell down to his lap, laying flat and still on his thigh as you let him process what you were doing.
He stiffened again and let out a low troubled groan, shaking his head again at himself. You wondered what he was thinking right now, if he was convinced he was heading straight for hell because of his thoughts alone so maybe it didn’t matter if he let you touch him. Or maybe he was seconds away from bolting downstairs and telling your father about what you’d been attempting to do.
“This isn’t right.” He was whispering and still trying to shake his head the best he could with your grip on his face. His repetition was starting to bug you, suddenly feeling impatient as he still hadn’t taken the bait fully.
“But it feels so good.” You purred into his ear, turning his head back to look at the cross and scooting closer so you were pressed tightly against his side. The sensation of this mixed with your hand on his leg was overwhelming and he felt slightly suffocated. “I want to show you Jake, let me show you how good it feels.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you considered letting him go, wanting to have him completely might mean waiting some time so you didn’t scare him off.
Then he was surprising you and looking back in your direction, your hand falling to his collarbones instead so he could decide what to do with his head. He gave you a soft nod, looking like he immediately regretted it when you wasted no time, pushing your hand forward onto the center of his pants.
He immediately lurched forward with a loud groan at the feeling of your hand on him and you shushed him softly, using the hand on his face to bring him back up to a sitting position and pet his face lovingly.
“You have to be quiet Jake.” You whispered in his ear and nodded towards your open door. He looked at you with a desperate glance, like he was pleading for you to close it despite his upset at that yesterday. You shook your head softly. “Can you be a good boy Jake?”
You started to slowly knead your hand against him, wanting to smile at the fact he was already hard before you had touched him. Light teasing and your soft hand on his thigh already had him bothered.
He was making small noises and you kept his face turned in your direction with your hold back on his jaw. You were sitting up straighter than him so he was a bit below you, having to look up through his eyelashes as he surprisingly held eye contact with you.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” You murmured excitedly, eyes wild and eager. He didn’t reply verbally, another small whine slipping from his throat and you pressed down hard on his cock through his pants. “I asked a question.”
Now he was nodding desperately, hands reaching out to grip your wrist in an attempt to lessen the pressure you were applying to him. “Good- feels good.”
His voice was strained and raspy like it was crawling its way out of his throat and you smiled with sick satisfaction, leaning forward so you were closer to his face. Your nose pressed against his and you thought about kissing him for just a few seconds, eventually deciding against it.
Jake was writhing on the bed now, desperately moving into your hand with small groans and whines, his hips lifting off the blanket in an attempt to chase your touch every time you removed it. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, a dazed expression on his face.
He seemed out of it until your hand was leaving his face and sliding down his sweater covered chest. He didn’t seem to realize you were doing it until your hand was pressing on his stomach slightly, fidgeting with the singular button on his jeans and tugging on the zipper impatiently.
“No, no.” He was whining, grabbing your wrist to stop you from snaking your hand down his pants, touching him without any layers between. “You can’t do that.”
“Why?” You asked incredulously, leaning forward so you were hovering over him slightly. He leaned back on his hand a bit to avoid bumping into your face and you were a few inches from laying on top of him. “I promise it’ll feel so good Jake.”
The usage of his name made him wince, realizing he liked it far too much when you said it. He’d never really considered his name before, completely indifferent to it until he heard the way it rolled off your snake like tongue.
“You aren’t supposed to do that.” He practically spat the words at you but his tone lacked any anger instead sounding fearful and pained. “You can’t touch me there, you just can’t.”
You felt slightly sorry for him as he hiccuped, his voice breaking around the words as you watched tears collect in his pretty eyelashes. His eyes kept darting to the cross on the wall with a guilty expression.
You took your hands off of his lap, listening to his sigh of longing at the loss of contact. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation despite seeing it coming, eventually opting for sitting up further on the bed and pulling him into your neck, wrapping your arms around his shaking body in a hug.
He leaned into it and hesitantly wrapped himself around you, tucking his face into your warm neck and letting out a few sobs, tugging you forward slightly by your lower back.
You let him cry for a while, hushing him softly every few minutes just in case, although you were in a less compromising position now, you still didn’t think your father would be thrilled to find you half in the lap of a sniffling boy who was still hard against you.
“Jake.” You were eventually murmuring into his hair once his hiccups subsided slightly, he nuzzled into your neck further at the sound of your soft tone. “What if I didn’t use my hands?”
He picked his head up at this and furrowed his eyebrows at you, his eyes puffy and red with wet streaks still going down his face.
“I don’t understand.” He looked more puppy like than normal as he said this in a soft breathy voice, voice hoarse from crying and his lip almost jutting out into a confused frown.
“Can I show you?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke to him and he immediately nodded his head. He clearly had found some sort of comfort in your embrace, a connection being made enough for him to fall into this state of vulnerability, willingly to accept what you were wanting to give him now.
You felt a sick rush of adrenaline at his lowered walls, the sudden dumb eagerness in his eyes as he seemed to seek out any sign of contact from you.
You imagined it was a flood of emotions, a confusion and tiring feeling to suddenly be presented with a situation that went against everything your life had been carefully crafted around. Not to mention how addicting it must feel to suddenly learn what was on the other side and how good it felt, having unbothered access to it as the two of you sat huddled on your bed.
Kissing his cheek softly, you slowly slid off the bed onto the floor, suddenly thankful you had a thick rug on your bed side. He watched you in confusion, looking like he wanted to grab you and help you up before you shot him a stern look.
Your hands were back on his jeans now that you were fully situated and he looked like he wanted to object for just a second before lifting his hips off the bed so you could pull them down to pool around his ankles.
You took just a second to admire him, his pretty tanned skin overwhelming you a bit in its sheer amount. His legs were surprisingly thick, muscular like an athlete and you briefly remembered you didn’t know much about him at all.
That didn’t bother you at all, if anything it made you want him more when you looked up at him to see his nervous eyes staring down at you in concern. He looked humiliated and you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was still extremely hard, even after crying for so long.
If he was more stable in his emotions, less flighty, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve called him names and made him cry all over again and then taken his innocence without a second thought.
Instead you carried on the kindness act, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his length through his underwear.
He immediately hissed and shot forward, not realizing what you were planning to do and not understanding why you were doing this. He started to stammer out in confusion and you shushed him again, sending a sharp glare towards the open door in warning.
“What are you doing?” He sounded absolutely blown away now, even more than he did earlier and it settled in your mind that he clearly had absolute no sexual knowledge, including blowjobs. “That’s dirty, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You were mock frowning up at him. “Did mommy say so?”
He knew you were making fun of him but he still nodded in response, not liking the sudden return of your mean tone. He forgot all about it when you were leaning forward again, this time touching your lips to him longer and sucking softly through the fabric.
“Mommy’s not here.” You were breathing out when you pulled away from him again, much to his dismay considering he immediately lifted his hips back in your direction. “And doesn’t it feel nice?”
He was nodding his head dumbly in agreement, feeling dizzy from the foreign emotions. He still didn’t understand what you were doing but it felt too good to keep questioning, forgetting momentarily about sin and how much punishment was going to come his way after this.
You were sliding your hands up his thighs slowly, stopping at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him for any sign of refusal. You didn’t care much for his discomfort but you weren’t going to force him to do anything, despite how much fun you were having with him.
He didn’t make any move to stop you, not even seeming to notice or understand what you were planning to do until you pulled on the elastic swiftly.
Then he was shooting back up from where he’d been leaning back, shaking his head again and covering himself with his hands. You smiled at him from your place on the floor and he looked at you like you were crazy.
You were getting slightly frustrated despite your pleased expression, wanting him to quickly understand what you were planning on doing. You gripped his wrist tightly and pulled them away from his lap
“What are you doing?” He was whispering in a panicked tone, his hands hovering above your head like he was debating pulling you away from him. He let out a yelp when you leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, watching him with hooded eyes. “T-that’s dirty, stop it.”
You wanted to laugh at his wording choices, sounding like he was a worried mother scolding their child for playing in mud.
“It’s dirty?” You frowned at him when you pulled back for a moment, his wide eyes falling on your wet lips. They squeezed shut just for a moment when you were licking up his full length slowly, humming at the taste of him and his weight on your tongue. “I should probably stop then right?”
He let out a panicked cry and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He wanted you to stop or at least he knew he should want you to stop. His mother had been right and you were not a nice girl, not the type of girl he should be around and he felt his stomach turn at the knowledge he was committing a very large sin by finding pleasure in your lust.
But the pleasure was prominent and overwhelming him to the point he couldn’t think straight.
He understood what sex was and his father had taught him about boyish lust, the kind that wakes you up from your sleep needing to change into a new pair of pajamas but he’d been warned from an early age to simply ignore the occurring urge.
He could still hear his mothers shrieks and cries when she caught him with a pillow between his legs in high school, could feel the welts on the back of his hands from the ruler his father had punished him with. Jake sometimes wondered if other people experienced this urge, this call to sin, as much as he did or if he was rotten inside.
But for the first time in his entire life, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to think about the consequences to falling victim to it. Not when you were touching him in ways not even his dreams could think to imagine.
When he didn’t answer you’d taken him back in your mouth, slightly impressed by how thick he was. He bucked forward his hips instinctively, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and you pinched his thigh roughly in warning.
You heard him cry out in a sob, his hands gripping the blankets so hard they were turning white and shaking at an almost alarming rate.
“Please.” He was begging and you weren’t sure he even knew what for, his voice coming out desperate and needy. “Please i-it feels really weird.”
You hummed around his cock in understanding, your hand petting his thigh and pushing his shirt up on his stomach so you could feel more of him. He didn’t even seem to register you touching him, the sounds of his soft cries and pleads distracting you slightly.
You tapped his hip bone a few times and he seemed to somehow understand the message, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth at a slower pace this time. You let him do what he wanted despite the urge to take control of the situation, knowing there wasn’t any chance he was lasting more than 30 seconds anyways.
He was slightly surprising you already, truthfully you’d expected him to cum before you even got his boxers off his thighs.
You imagined his inner monologue was causing him some issue as you listened to him cry softly from pleasure, little overwhelmed gasps and hiccups as one of his hands grabbed onto the one you were running across his stomach and squeezed it tightly.
“You need to just let it go baby.” You were whispering to him as you pulled off for a second when his hips started to twitch awkwardly, overwhelmed and not understanding what the feeling building up deep in his gut was. “Don’t worry about making a mess.”
The second you took him back in your lips he was following your instructions with a loud moan, completely forgetting you were meant to keep quiet as he came inside your warm mouth.
You winced slightly at the unexpectedness of it, leaning backwards on your knees as you waited for his hips to stop jerking forward.
He was shaking his head at you, eyes teary and his face red as he squinted his eyes in confusion. “What w-was -“
“You came.” You said matter of factly, standing up with a groan from your uncomfortable kneeling position and sitting next to him on the bed again. He leaned sideways into you, much to your surprise, and you resisted the urge to push him off you.
“Was I supposed to?” He whispered in embarrassment and pushed his face into your neck again. You were slightly uncomfortable at his clinginess but you let him do it, knowing he must be feeling a lot.
“Yes Jake. Maybe not all over my face though.” You were trying to joke with him to lighten the atmosphere but you sighed as you heard him let out a little cry into your neck, clearly upset and humiliated.
He was mumbling against your skin, repeated mantras that you couldn’t quite understood through his sobs but had a good guess in what they contained. You imagined reality was coming back to him now and he was processing what he’d just done without the hazy cloud of need cursing his judgement.
“Jake, you need to stop crying.” You were sighing and bringing your hand up to his hair, petting it softly to try to calm him down.
“Did I do a bad thing?” He pulled off your neck to look you in the eyes, his wide and desperate like he was fishing for any bit of reassurance that what you’d just done was okay, that he hadn’t just committed a sin so unholy. You could tell by his expression he was asking just to hear it reaffirmed, for you to tell him again it was just skin.
“My poor baby.” You were cooing at him, lips jutted out in a pout as your hands came up to hold his face, cupping it softly and wiping his teary cheeks with your thumbs. “Of course you did a bad thing.”
He froze completely in your hold and you felt a laugh bubble into your throat, holding it down with all your might so you could get the full extent of his reaction. He sat up slightly, attempting to pull out of your hands before realizing you were holding his face too tight. He gave you a confused and hurt look.
“What?” He was stammering out and his face was curling back into another sob.
“How could you let me do that?” You were tsking at him as you spoke, eyebrows furrowed like he had genuinely offended you. He watched you as panic settled into his eyes at the sound of you kissing your teeth and shaking your head softly. “We were supposed to be studying.”
“B-but.” He was shaking his head and holding onto your wrist, eyes filling with tears. “But you said that..”
He trailed off and you watched him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to pass the blame off onto you. Of course he didn’t, his expression hardening although you knew he hadn’t quite realized your motive. He was too innocent to believe you’d deceive him, too stupid to understand every action you did was a carefully crafted lie.
“Maybe it’s time you go Jakey.” You were nodding as you spoke, petting his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else, his expression dazed out as he came out of such a vulnerable compliant headspace with a jolt. You watched him in silence as he gathered himself enough to get dressed awkwardly and walk out of your room, loose and tilting like he had just woken up.
You waited for him to be completely out of sight, the sound of the front door closing, before falling back on your bed with a big smile.
——
You’d fallen asleep soon after that without much thought on the situation, feeling only a deep satisfaction at the progress you’d made with Jake and a slight tinge of excitement for the next time you got to see him.
By the time you’d woken up, your mother was already in your room and standing staring down at you. You barely reacted to her presence although you were slightly unnerved and curious just how long she’d been watching you sleep.
“Can I help you?” Your voice was groggy as you sat up and pushed your bedridden hair out of your face.
Any other mother might have found your tired movements cute, maybe they’d give you an endeared smile and reminisce on when you were a baby waking up from naps.
However you were born with a very specific type of mother, maybe one of her kind. She was watching you with a nasty scowl, a knowing look in her eye as she did a slow pan around your room. “Your father said the boy was here yesterday.”
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head softly to try and get a further reaction from her.
“His mother called and said he won’t be at church this morning.” She spat the words at you, accusatory and nasty. “He’s sick.”
You could tell by the way she said that she knew it was a lie, wether Jake was the one telling it or his mother. At first you were slightly shocked he’d lie about being sick but you figured he might just be feeling so, driven by the extreme emotions he’d been feeling.
“What a shame. He seemed more than fine yesterday.” You put in a pity filled voice, shaking your head as you let the innuendo sink in for her, watching the way her face curled with disgust.
“Almost ready?” You father was suddenly in your doorway, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as he buttoned the cuff of his sleeve.
“Father, would it be okay if I stopped by the Sim’s before heading to service? I’d like to bring Jake some soup for his cold.” Your voice was dripping with sweetness and you vaguely saw your mothers jaw tick with irritation.
“I can do it.” She was rushing to say.
Your father shook his head immediately and held a hand up to silence the both of you from speaking again. He finished buttoning his sleeve and cleared his throat before speaking. “You agreed to meet with the Lee’s today Mary. I think it’d be a good idea for Y/N to go, since they’re friends.”
You smiled appreciatively at him and he gave you a small nod before leaving the room. You glanced at your mother to see her stony expression but surprisingly she didn’t say anything, simply shaking her head in disapproval and following behind him.
It was strange to not leave for church with them, to stand in the window with the curtain pulled back as you smiled and waved watching the car drive off.
You dropped the grin the second they turned the street corner and hurried out the door to get on your bike and head over to the Sim’s house.
You hadn’t been there before despite your father pointing it out on your way home yesterday but it looked pretty much the exact same as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was large and eerie, the rainy atmosphere not helping it.
The door was opening before you could even dismount your bike let alone knock and you saw Jake’s mom standing in the archway with a small frown.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and for a second you wondered if he had told her about what happened, confessed his sins in a fit of guilt.
You were so thrown off that you didn’t immediately respond, suddenly aware of the fact you didn’t bring any sort of soup or medicine like you had originally planned, too eager to get out the door to remember your cover story.
Lucky for you, Jake’s father was coming into sight now and a small grunt from him sent the rude woman cowering away.
You observed this with a curious expression and tried not to frown. Maybe Jake wasn’t as innocent and pure as he seemed considering he apparently had some familial issues, obvious in the way his mother showed a fearful obedience to the large man in front of you.
“You here for my boy?” His voice was low and gruff and it was a bit remarkable how different Jake was than his father.
You opted for a small nod, only slightly playing a part considering he actually did a good job at intimidating you. He let out a hum of approval and stepped aside so you could enter the house, not asking anymore questions.
“It’s good you two get along.” You were taking in the main living space as you entered, his voice picking up a conversational tone that sounded slightly unnatural. “I was beginning to think he’d never talk to someone his own age, let alone a girl.”
He had a typical mannish tone, one you’d heard in movies or from the gross men who sat outside the town bar in a drunken haze as they catcalled and talked at a volume far too loud for your small town. It lacked the usual religious hold you were more used to, he almost sounded pleased at the idea of his son being with a girl.
You glanced at him and held his stare. You wondered for a second if he was testing you now, waiting for you to reveal any sinful intentions you had so he could run back to your father and earn some brownie points for catching your sickness in the act.
He raised an eyebrow at you as you cocked your head, willing him to talk further and continue in his attempt at baiting you.
“Upstairs on the right.” He eventually said, your stare unrelenting. You unfroze your stony expression and gave him a small smile, knowing you probably looked crazy with how fast your face changed.
You were walking away from him before he could say anything else or before Jake’s mother could return, skipping a step at a time in your haste to get upstairs.
Without knocking, you pushed open his door and barged in.
He was sat up in bed, lower half under the covers, and he let out a small shriek of surprise at your sudden intrusion, furthered by a quick inhale when he realized who it was that had just walked in.
“W-what are you doing here?” He was rushing out as he watched you close the door behind you and sit down on the end of his bed.
“I came to check on you.” You said it like it was obvious, a soft shrug of your shoulders. “Since you’re sick.”
His mouth parted in confusion for a second before he seemingly remembered he was meant to be ill, looking awkward and guilty at the reminder he had lied.
You didn’t address his obvious reaction, telling you what you already assumed, and instead climbed up further on his bed. He made a strange noise when you got closer to him, pulling back the blankets and getting underneath them with him. You briefly caught sight of his plaid pajama pants before you covered the both of you up.
“M-my parents.” He was shaking his head and anxiously looking at the door like he was waiting for his mom to walk in any second. You watched his distress, wondering if he was possibly hoping for that to happen, before you heard the sound of the front door slamming.
A look of fear passed over his face at the realization his parents had just left him alone with you. You were a bit surprised yourself but you kept your face neutral, watching him to drink up his reaction.
“I came all this way and you can’t even say thank you.” You tsked and relaxed against his pillows with an annoyed expression. “Especially after what you did yesterday.”
He looked upset at the reminder and he was sitting up more now, the blanket pulling forward around his thighs and he practically kneeled and titled forward in your direction. He wasn’t touching you but his hands were clasped together as he practically did a full bow on his bed.
“I’m so sorry.” He started to say the words but his voice broke around them and he rocked slightly back and forth. You almost laughed at the fact he was already about to cry and it’d only been about five minutes alone with you. “Thank you for coming.”
You imagined he’d been doing a lot of crying since you saw him last, staying up all night running your words on loop in his mind. The sincerity in your voice when you told him he committed a disgusting sin.
“Get back under the covers.” You spoke in a calm voice and he picked his head up to look at you in confusion, face red and eyes teary. He looked surprised you weren’t scolding him, having seemingly forgotten you were the one who practically forced him to let you touch him.
He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and nodding appreciatively, getting back under the blankets and pulling them up again so you were covered. He seemed to only now realize you were laying back against the pillows and he mirrored you, laying on his side so he could face you.
“I won’t tell anybody what you did.” You whispered to him now that his attention was fully on you. Your hand came up to hold his face and he tensed for a second at the contact. “Or maybe I will… I haven’t decided.”
He shook his head hastily, scooting closer to your body and grabbing ahold of your hand that was on his face, wrapping both of his around your wrist and squeezing it softly in desperation.
“Y-you can’t.” He urged and you felt his hands shaking around yours. “I mean you can b-but I’m really so sorry and my dad, he’d kill me.”
You shushed him as he started to ramble, petting his cheek and frowning deeply at what he had said. You figured Jake’s dad hurt his mother but you hadn’t considered it extending to his child as well. A strange surge of anger ran through you despite your own twisted intentions.
Scooting down a bit more so you were completely laid down, you put a hand on his back and pulled him towards you until he got the hint and curled into your side with a soft cry. He was stuffing his face back into your neck like he did yesterday and you rubbed his back softly.
You vaguely acknowledged the fact he was completely pressed against your side now, almost laying half on top of you in his emotional state.
“I won’t tell.” You whispered, his soft and messy hair tickling your face as you spoke. In his desperation for comfort he seemed to forget about not touching you, his arm coming up to wrap around your stomach, tugging you closer in a rush of thankfulness and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But only if you answer my questions.”
He nodded immediately and picked his head up off your neck so he could look at you more clearly. He looked particularly cute like this you decided, his hair unstyled and still sticking up from where he’d slept on it and his soft pajamas that were rubbing against your legs.
“Did you touch yourself last night.” You held his chin as you spoke so he was looking up at you, his head almost resting against your chest as he peered with big wet eyes.
He was shaking his head as much as he could and furrowing his eyebrows like he did the last time you asked him. “I don’t- I wouldn’t. I don’t know how even.”
This fascinated you slightly. You figured he didn’t understand masturbating or its purpose outside of it being sinful but the fact he’d never once curiously touched himself was interesting. You wondered how many nights he laid in bed crying with confusion at the dull ache between his legs.
“Did you like being in my mouth?” Your voice dropped lower for the second question and an automatic whine slipped out from his lips, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment as he seemed to replay the memory.
He was nodding hesitantly much to your annoyance, you wanted to hear him say it but you figured you could take it easy on him today.
Maybe easy wasn’t the best way to describe your current plan for him considering the way you were suddenly pressing your thigh in between his legs, smiling at him when he groaned loudly and tightened his grip on you.
Your side burned slightly from the force in which he curled his hands up at the sudden contact.
“You’re hard.” You said matter of factly, telling the truth and not just teasing him. He was solid against your thigh now and you heard him whimper when you shifted slightly so his tight grip on you was more comfortable. “I barely said anything and you’re hard.”
He shook his head in disagreement but his hips twitched forward, rubbing his erection against you and making a low drawn out sound at the feeling.
“Did I say you could do that?” Your tone was harsh again and he immediately froze, groaning softly and tucking his head forward onto your chest. You let your hand go back to this hair, petting him for a second before gripping it tightly and tugging his head back up to look at you.
He winced at the pain, face contorted as he tried to scoot away from you. However he still didn’t remove his arm from around your stomach so he wasn’t able to go far, his hand still kneading against your side like he didn’t realize he was even moving it.
“Ask me.” You instructed him, still holding his hair in a tight fist. “Clear words, no crying bullshit.”
He looked momentarily taken back by you swearing and being so harsh but then he had a look of guilt like he was remembering the other day and he was attempting to nod in head in agreement.
“Please I want… I want you to touch me.” He settled on, not sure how to word what he needed. You smiled softly at him for his attempt but you weren’t convinced, deciding on helping him ask you properly.
“Tell me you’re disgusting.” You whispered, leaning your face forward so your nose was touching his again, like it did momentarily yesterday. “Say you want to hump my leg like a dog.”
He looked confused and overwhelmed at your words, shaking his head in refusal until you moved your leg again. It rubbed against him and you almost laughed at the fact he was almost harder now even after your tone changed. His hips chased the feeling and you tugged his hair again in warning, listening to his soft groan of frustration.
“I want..” He hiccuped softly and shook his head, trying to force the strange words from his mouth. “I want to hump your leg please please.”
You let go of his hair and his head fell back down onto your chest. He hadn’t completely fulfilled your request but it was good enough for now.
“Alright baby.” You didn’t need to say anything else for him to understand, immediately pulling you closer again and rocking against your side.
You listened to his soft little whines as he humped against you desperately, moving in messy motions as he tried to chase after the feeling he recognized from yesterday.
The feeling of his hand gripping your side was making your head spin a bit much to your irritation and you gripped it tightly, moving it off your waist. He seemed to misunderstand and instead placed it directly over your belly button where your sweater had ridden up, pushing down softly as he rubbed the soft skin of your stomach.
You let out a small groan and this seemed to ignite something in him because he let out a little cry and nuzzled further into you as he dragged his clothed cock over your hip harder.
“Tell me it feels good.” You instructed him and you felt more annoyance at the fact your voice came out breathy, not liking the effect he was having on you.
“S-so good.” He immediately responded and you felt his leg wrap around yours, trying to get closer to you despite it being impossible. “Going to die it’s good, it’s good.”
You laughed softly at his dramatic wording and pet his hair again, trying to get his attention. He slowed down the grinding of his hips to look at you and you nearly cooed at his hooded wet eyes, trying to focus on your face but struggling.
You were originally planning on teasing him some more, attempting to get him to repeat the words you wanted to hear earlier, but at the sight of his pretty overwhelmed face you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in and kissing him softly.
He yelped at the feeling, tensing up for a few seconds before closing his eyes and trying to kiss you back, failing miserably.
You laughed against his lips and you could feel him frowning, face getting red with embarrassment as he uncomfortably shifted against you.
“Come here.” You tapped his back softly and nudged him so he was fully on top of you, squishing you under him but making it so you could reach his mouth better. “Rub your cock on me while we kiss.”
He whined softly, nodding his head despite the flush on his face and you waited while he slowly experimented with the new position, practically in missionary now. When he started to move his hips again, his hard cock was now rubbing directly against your core and he faltered at the feeling, nearly collapsing on top of you.
You smiled at his reaction. You had full doubt that he knew what sex was or the fact he was basically imitating it but you imagine he could get the gist that what you were doing was wrong.
You leaned your head forward to kiss him again, easier now that he was on top of you and seemingly more eager to get it right this time. He was still sloppy, not really understanding how to move his mouth or when but you took over, moving your lips against his slowly.
He seemed to get the hang of it eventually and you could feel his thrust getting more desperate as the kiss got deeper and faster.
Your tongue was in his mouth before he even realized and he made a small startled sound, hips stopping against yours at the new feeling. He was letting out high pitched whines and moans as you licked into his mouth, him drooling slightly and desperately trying to keep your tongue where it was.
You could feel him sucking on it, twisting his head to try to get it deeper in his mouth and he instinctively gave a particularly hard thrust, causing you to moan into him.
This seemed to startle him, pulling back off your face with a wet chin and hooded eyes, looking down at you in amazement.
He did it again experimentally and you could feel the hard print of his cock directly against you, your back arching as your hand came up to grip his hair and stop him from doing it again. You were reminding yourself this wasn’t about your pleasure, you wanted to ruin him and nothing else.
But you couldn’t deny your attraction to him, almost the perfect boy for you if there was to ever be one.
It didn’t help he happened to have an impressive size on him, although you doubted he even realized he was bigger than usual or would know what to do if given that information.
You wrapped a leg around his side and he sucked in a breath, having better access now. He kept rolling his hips sloppily into you and moaning loudly, forgetting who he was or where he was currently at.
“What would mommy think if she saw you like this?” You took it upon yourself to remind him, whispering into his mouth with a pant and almost laughing at the way he immediately tensed and stopped humping against you. “If she walked it to see her son so desperate to sin.”
He was shaking his head and lifting it slightly to be able to look at you better, eyes welling up with tears as he glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. You hadn’t been there long and you imagined church still had a few hours before it’d be over and they’d be heading back but he seemed to forget all this at the mention of his parents.
“I’m not.” His hair was messy in his face, bangs slightly damp from sweating and his previous tears. “I don’t want to sin, I don’t want to be bad. Please.”
You hummed softly at him, lips forming a mocking pout as you looked at him with gentle eyes. You stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning against your hand like a puppy.
“My poor baby.” You cooed and kissed him again briefly, he immediately chased after it when you pulled away and you tapped your finger on his cheek to stop him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He seemed confused at what you meant but too drunk on the feeling of your touch and lips, chasing after them again in a messy kiss that was mostly just him trying to get his tongue back against yours.
You indulged him and let him lick into it, letting out soft desperate moans and you were suddenly realizing how much you were aching for him despite managing to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.
You shifted your leg that was wrapped around his middle and he seemed to remember that he was currently on top of you and he went back to writhing against your body, his hard on rubbing against you an almost painful amount now that you were granting him more access with the switched position.
He wasn’t able to hold himself up, curling up on your chest while he moved his lower body with sobs of pain and need.
“God, I thought it’d take longer to break you.” You were trying to make fun of him but your voice broke in a moan at the feeling of him pushing himself against your sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking nasty, look at yourself.”
He was shaking his head and crying fully now, chasing after a high he didn’t even understand and you were almost feeling dizzy from the pace he was going.
“I’m good.” He was blabbering out and looking at you again, trying to lean forward for a kiss but letting out a sharp cry midway and falling back down with his head on your chest.
“You’re a good boy Jake.” You cooed at him, nodding even though he couldn’t see you and he felt sick at the constant changing of your tones. “My good boy right?”
He was suddenly sitting up again, pulling himself against you so he could look at you directly in the eye, if he could see through his tears. He was nodding his head in earnest and you felt your lip quirk up in a smile.
“I’m yours. I want to be yours.” He was rushing out, hands leaving your stomach to balance on either side of you. His tone was pleading and you wondered if he even knew what he was asking for or if he was just repeating what you’d said dumbly.
You kissed him softly and he let out a shaky breath of relief against your lips. However he started to frown when you were suddenly pushing him off of you and patting the empty space on the bed right beside where you were laying. He looked confused and hurt but he didn’t ask any questions, simply rolling over and waiting to see what you were attempting to do.
You watched him for a few seconds, taking in the change of appearance in such a short amount of time.
He was laid back fully on the bed, eyes hooded and cloudy. His mouth was parted slightly as he panted, his chest rising and falling at a fast speed as his arm reached up to try and push his messy hair out of his face. You liked the way he looked like this, especially the way his shirt was ridden up on his stomach, a sliver of skin showing.
He started making small impatient whines and groans so you took mercy on him, flipping yourself over slightly so you could situate yourself on his lap.
You sucked in a breath the second you did, quickly shutting your lips tight after so he didn’t catch sight of the display of pleasure. He was hard underneath and pressed tightly against your core as you sat on him.
“Oh my god.” He was crying out and his hands jutted forward like he was going to grab your sides, stopping midway and flailing around as he didn’t know what he was meant to do with them.
“Touch me.” You spat at him, reaching down to grab his wrist and put his hands on your ass as you leaned forward so you were in a similar position to his a few minutes ago, laying on top of him.
He froze as he touched you and you almost scolded him for acting so prudish with touching you like he wasn’t just trying to fuck you through his cute little pajamas. However you figured it was harder for him to deliberately do something versus acting purely on the overwhelming lust he was feeling.
You gripped his jaw harshly in your hand, your nails digging into his skin slightly as you used your thumb to pull his mouth open and hummed with satisfaction.
“Say you want me inside you.” You whispered, leaning down to talk into his open mouth. You watched his eyes widen in confusion but you rubbed your hips against him as motivation and he immediately complied.
“Want you inside me.” He moaned out, big fat tears sliding down his face. “Y/N please I need it please.”
He didn’t even know what he was asking for but he was overwhelmed and sinking back down into that fuzzy headspace, willing to do anything to get pleasure from you.
You kept his mouth open after he was done speaking and he opened it wider for you, although not understanding where you were heading with this action. He watched with wide confused eyes as you leaned over him and slowly spit into his open mouth.
He cried out, hips bucking up instinctively at the sensation of your spit on his tongue so directly and you almost fell forward from the roughness in which he fucked himself up into you. You smacked his cheek lightly and he snapped his mouth shut with another moan, eyes shut in euphoria.
You hummed at him in approval, leaning back down to kiss him again and lick into his mouth, letting him turn his head sideways in an attempt to get your tongue as deep as possible. You wondered if he was purposely imitating the blowjob you’d given him or if he was just that desperate to be consumed.
“I’m going to take you to hell with me.” You whispered, pulling out of the kiss and petting his hair softly. He shook his head and let out a small sob, this time not from pleasure.
“Do you want to cum?” You didn’t address his denial or tease him further for now, knowing now you had him completely hooked. He was addicted to you and the feelings you gave him and no mean words would be able to keep him away from you.
He seemed hesitant in his nod, now once again thinking about the sins he was committing and the fact he was skipping church to touch a girl inappropriately. But he did eventually nod his head, eyes still watering.
“Then fuck me baby.” You rolled back over as you spoke, flopping onto your back and rubbing his chest through his shirt, slightly surprised by the thick build he had. He was immediately on top of you again and you almost laughed at his haste.
You didn’t mean it literally and you didn’t fear him taking it as such considering he didn’t even know what it meant, he just knew you were cursing and being dirty.
You wondered if he even knew what you had inside your pants, scrapping that idea for another time instead so you didn’t get yourself too worked up thinking about how much it would ruin him to feel you.
He didn’t last long once he was back on top of you, only a few seconds passed before he was letting out a loud cry and hiccuping, his hips jutting against you a few more times in aftershock before he was collapsing on top of you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing it slowly with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, God please forgive me.”
——
Jake had fallen asleep on top of you shortly after that, exhausted from everything you’d been putting him through both mentally and physically.
You let him lay there on top of you surprisingly despite how uncomfortable it was and how much you kept readying yourself to shove him off of you and leave him without any comfort, you simply couldn’t.
You weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like being mean to him was going to ruin your plan and make him not want to talk to you anymore. He was trapped now with you.
Yet you found yourself staying and not only staying but watching him as he slept. He looked younger like this, despite always being very puppy like and boyish you couldn’t deny that Jake was a man and he could be an intimidating one if it wasn’t for his personality. His eyelashes were long and fluttering like he was having a vigorous dream and his back would rise and fall with every deep inhale he took.
By the time he woke up you’d been laying there for probably an hour or two staring at him or looking around his room with curiosity, you felt him shifting against you and almost pretended you were asleep before deciding against it.
He froze his movements when he realized where he was exactly, or at least who it was underneath him. Then he was rolling off of you onto his back with a groan and you were suddenly feeling very cold without his weight and body warmth.
“Did my parents come home?” His voice was low and groggy from sleep and crying and you turned your head to look at him now that you were laying side by side.
“Are you kidding? Like your mother isn’t going to run in here the first second the car parks and hose you down.”
He laughed softly at your words, almost a scoff and your lip quirked up in a smile at his casual reaction, knowing his guard must be down since he was still so tired.
“She wouldn’t do that.” He eventually whispered and you could feel his shoulder pressing against yours. “At least the hose part.”
“Is she as bad as mine?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask him something so personal or why you were even making conversation with him in the first place but you were suddenly curious.
“Not sure.” He was looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your head. “My dad is though.”
You hummed as a response, already figuring that from the times you’d interacted with him and the way Jake talked about him earlier. You felt a sudden wave of discomfort at your current situation and fidgeted in your spot on the bed.
“Are you going to leave?” His voice was a whisper still and he wasn’t looking at you anymore from what you could tell. He sounded slightly upset like the thought of you leaving wasn’t pleasant.
“You wanted me to earlier.” You scoffed softly but it was humorless, for some reason feeling offended at the reminder despite knowingly doing everything in your power to make him uncomfortable for your own satisfaction.
He didn’t say anything for a while and you listened to him breathing softly, wondering if he caught on to the hint of insecurity you were accidentally showcasing.
“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He eventually said and you barely heard him considering how low his voice had gotten.
“See you tomorrow Jake.”
——
Tuesday’s were another day that your schedule was slightly shifted after church service. You had always been instructed to some form of community service on that day of the week, wether is be picking up trash or teaching a small class to the elders and children.
You didn’t mind this despite your distaste for religion. You got some sick satisfaction from watching religious people interact, like babies excitedly chatting about fairy tails and wishing for a big grand gesture to fix their own shitty lives.
Plus it got you out of your house and kept you slightly on the good side of your mother typically although you doubt with your recent actions you’d ever be on that side of the fence again.
So it was particularly annoying when you were tasked to clean the church basement, an area usually unseen by anybody in the town including yourself.
It was a mess of overfilled shelves and baskets stacked to the brim with old holiday decorations or donations from past families that were never put to use.
You’d been hesitant to agree, having to try ten times harder than usual to apply your usual fake smile towards your father when you graciously nodded and accepted the task. Luckily a handful of other volunteers had also followed you down the creaky stairs, one of them being Jake.
Not on his own volition considering the way his eyes bulged out of his head when his father roughly nudged him as you stood at the center of the stage requesting helping hands. He hesitantly held his in the air and avoided making eye contact with you as you smiled happily.
The same smile you held now as you stood side by side with him, taking things off the shelves and throwing them into a trash pile. He looked more anxious than usual, like he was genuinely worried you’d try to do something to him while people were watching.
“Miss Y/N?” One of the older women who had volunteered was approaching the two of you, holding a small basket of, what looked like, old arts and crafts. “I found this and was wondering if you thought your father might want to hang them up in the youth study room?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea ma’am.” You were smiling widely at her, eyes soft and full of light. “You should bring them up to him.”
She was smiling appreciatively at you before turning and heading back up the stairs, missing the way your smile immediately dropped back into a blank expression.
Jake however, didn’t miss it and you heard him scoff from next to you as he observed the interaction. You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.
“Don’t you get tired of doing that all the time?” He questioned and you faltered slightly. You hadn’t ever really considered it as something you were doing necessarily so his statement threw you off.
“I don’t know… I do it with everybody. I just do it.” You shrugged and awkwardly looked away from him, feeling confronted.
“You don’t do it with me.” He suddenly declared and you were reminded that you didn’t actually know Jake or his personality that well, completely caught off guard by his bluntness.
“Maybe because I knew you were just as bad as me.” You dropped your voice into a small whisper, leaning closer to him slightly as he glanced around to see which volunteers were over in your side of the basement.
He picked up an old toy and tossed it off in the distance, shaking his head in denial. “That’s not true at all.”
“Why isn’t it?” You cocked your head at him and stopped rummaging through the shelf, more interested in what he was saying. You turned your body so you were facing him and could lean against the wood.
“I believe in this.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was referring to. “I love god.”
“Do you? Or have you just been told to?” You were already sure of the answer but you were curious what he would say about that, if he’s ever sat and thought that over or if his faith was really that unwavering.
“I never questioned it before.” He confirmed with a stern voice, sending you a sharp look so you would understand he was serious. “Not once in my life until we moved here. Not once until..”
He trailed off but the implication was heavy and he looked away with a bright flush on his face. He was obviously referring to you and you felt a small spark of satisfaction at the fact he was implying you were the first thing to ever make him doubt, implying that he was doubting at all.
He scowled slightly when he noticed the bright smile that was on your face, one you didn’t even realize you had.
“I’m serious Y/N. If anyone ever found out I…” He didn’t finish his sentence again but you could get the gist of what he was implying, your smile dropping into a frown.
“You think I don’t know that? The stakes are way higher on my side of things incase you forgot.” Your tone was harsher now but you were taking a step closer to him, not bothering to check if anybody was watching. “But you’re mine right? Like you said?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, turning to face you and taking a big gulp when he realized you were practically close enough to kiss now. You waited for him to say something against your claim, to tell you he had been lust drunk or he didn’t mean it.
Instead he slowly nodded, eyes shooting down awkwardly to your feet. His shy expression was one you were more familiar seeing him with and your smile returned.
“Can you come over today?” You whispered and he looked back at you with a shocked expression, clearly not expecting you to say that. “I have something to show you.”
He was nodding again, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering and you grinned, turning back to the shelf and continuing with your sorting.
——
By the time church was over and Jake got to your house, you were already sat outside on the porch in a big sweater and a scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Are we not.. going in?” He was standing at the end of your driveway, putting his bikes kickstand down and watching you with a confused expression.
“I said I had to show you something didn’t I?” He watched you as you stood from the cement slab, grabbing your own bike from off the side of your house and walking it down towards him with a half smile.
He didn’t say anything as you both got on your bikes, following behind you as you rode off the curb and down the street.
The ride was long and cold, the sky grey as you passed by old houses and empty shops that’d been abandoned as the owners aged. Jake found the town sad a bit but he was curious what you were leading him too and slightly excited that you wanted to spend time with him in a different way than normal.
Eventually you were crossing the threshold of the city limit, a big sign with chipping paint that was welcoming you in or wishing you safe travels out.
After that it wasn’t long before you were slowing to a stop, surrounded by trees and a large field. Jake watched you get off your bike with a raised eyebrow, waiting until you looked back at him with a beckoning hand.
“It’s this way.” You urged and he hopped off, pushing the bikes alongside each other until you were on the other side of the muddy field, approaching a large river. The sound of it was loud as it rushed but not loud enough to block out the noise of the highway across from it, just off in the distance.
Jake watched it as you unpacked your backpack that he didn’t even realize you’d been wearing until now, unfolding a thick blanket and laying it down on the wet grass.
“They can’t build houses over here because the river always overflows.” You started to explain, pulling out a thermos and something wrapped in paper towel as you talked. “The water levels higher than usual because all the rain we get.”
“Sometimes I wonder if they even know we are over here.” You continued with a scoff, sitting criss cross on the blanket now and looking over at Jake who was dropping his bike.
He sat down too, carefully keeping his wet and muddy shoes off of the fabric.
“Do you come here a lot?” He was muttering what felt like his first words of the day, looking around the area and seeing virtually no signs of civilization other than the highway. He wondered for a second if you had even been able to hear him over the sound of it.
“I guess. There isn’t much else to do if you haven’t noticed by now.” You were shrugging as you spoke, you stuck one of your legs out so it nudged against his.
“I’ve been pretty occupied since I’ve gotten here so I guess I didn’t.” His words made you laugh although he was being serious, only having gone from home to church to your room.
He didn’t say anything as you laughed and he still didn’t when you were suddenly moving out of your sitting position, crawling towards him on all fours until you could press yourself against him.
Every part of you was touching as you sat side by side, both facing the rushing river and trying to not focus on how cold it was outside, the sky slowly darkening now since it was around dinner time. That reminded you that you had packed sandwiches and you were leaning forward slightly to reach them, handing him one and watching him unwrap the paper towel in confusion.
His cheeks turned red when he saw what it was, glancing at you and nodding softly in appreciation before taking a bite.
“Why are we here?” He was breaking the silence the two of you had fallen into as you ate and passed the warm thermos back and forth, watching the highway and the building traffic.
“I don’t know.” You felt strangely vulnerable at this question, not really knowing yourself why you’d taken him to such a private place. “Don’t think too deeply about it.”
Your sudden change of tone made him frown and tense against you, a harshness seeping into your words as you reminded him what type of relationship you had going here.
To further prove your point that this wasn’t anything being sin and attraction, you were quickly turning your upper body so you could face him before leaning forward and pressing into a kiss. He froze completely for a few seconds, brain short circuiting at the sudden contact.
Then he was closing his eyes slowly and kissing you back, a low him of appreciation slipping through your lips and vibrating against his.
You turned your body more so you could climb over his legs, straddling him and making a small noise of surprise when his hands were immediately on your lower back, tugging you in tighter against him.
The two of you kissed like that for a while, you sitting comfortably in his lap and feeling him grow hard underneath you embarrassingly quick. He felt strong and sturdy under you but he was letting out little whines and whimpers and he kept trying to pull you in closer, almost like he was trying to merge the two of you together.
Then you were sitting up on your knees and tugging your long skirt up so it was bunched around your hips, mouth parting slightly at the feeling of the cold air nipping at your bare skin. He watched you with confusion, eyes darting around your legs so fast he felt dizzy.
You sat back down on his hard on, now only separated by his jeans and your underwear and he let out a low moan, shooting forward and ducking his head forward into your neck.
“Y/N.” He whined out and you shushed him, petting his hair and rocking your hips slowly against him, liking the way his mouth parted against your skin as he took deep shuddering breaths.
“I want you to feel me.” You were whispering into his hair and he picked his up in alarm, shaking his head and glancing down at your exposed lap.
“I- I don’t know how.” He was rushing out and you laughed softly, reaching down to grab his wrist off the blanket and pick his hand up.
You placed it against your stomach like it was the other day when he was pressing on it absentmindedly, letting him feel the smooth skin above your underwear line for a while before pushing his hand down slightly past the elastic and listening to his gasp.
You were still rocking against him but slower now, letting him feel you for the first time at his own pace and trying not to overwhelm him.
His hand was shaking fast, from the cold and nerves. You imagined he could feel his own hand pressing against his cock as he kept moving it down, trapping it between the both of you. You dipped down again when he hesitatingly stopped moving it once he was fully in your underwear and he let out a cry at the feeling of your wetness against his skin.
“W-what?” He was crying out in concern, eyes shooting up to look at yours. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”
“I’m wet.” You explained to him with a breathy voice despite the fact you knew he didn’t understand what that would mean or if it was good or bad. “Means I feel good, you make me feel good.”
That seemed to alarm him more than the idea of you bleeding, his hand instinctively twitching and pressing against you. You leaned down to kiss him again and he reciprocated, forgetting his hand was on you for a few seconds before you were lowering your hips again.
He wasn’t doing anything but just the feeling of his large hands cupping you was making you feel dizzy, rocking against him again despite the strange noise he let out.
“Touch me baby c’mon.” He looked up at you at the sound of your urging, eyes big and wet. He looked nervous but he hesitatingly moved his fingers, curling slightly and pressing against your clit. You let out a cry and he immediately froze, mistaking it for pain. “No Jake, it’s okay do it again.”
He didn’t look sure but he followed your instructions anyways, curling his hand up and being amazed by the way you threw your head back in a small cry.
The two of you seemed to forget about your surroundings, about the rushing lake or the freezing air that was only making the cold grass more bitter to sit in. You almost forgot who you were or the fact you were only a few minutes outside of town, practically riding Jake in a field visible to anyone who cared.
“You’re so pretty.” You remarked and he frowned at your gentle word causing you to lean forward and kiss him softly. “I want to keep you forever.”
You were too lust drunk to think about the heavy implication of your words or the fact saying them went against everything you’d previously been attempting. The whole reason you’d even started touching him today was to distract him from the fact you’d taken him to a place personal to you, to make him forget your act of kindness.
“You can keep me.” He was stuttering out in a high voice, not really sure if you meant what you were saying considering how confusing he found you, how strange this whole situation was.
Jake had accepted at some point that his life was changing now and for some reason, god had put you in his path. At first he figured you were some type of test of faith, if he could just ignore you and your evil nature then he’d be able to prove he was a good man, a holy man. But he began to wonder eventually if you were truly as terrible as he originally thought, as his mother kept remarking every time his father wasn’t in the room.
You made him cry and you occasionally would say terrible things to him. And it was no doubt you had a habit of sinning and making him sin, even when he didn’t want to.
But he thought you were kind at other times and he could tell by the way you zoned out in church during service and were nice to the young residents or helpful to the old, that you didn’t have no emotion. Maybe you were right, although you had a twisted way of teaching him about it.
You were leaning down to kiss him again and he was taking his hand out of your underwear, wiping it on his pants briefly before cupping your face in both his palms and keeping you there.
“Did I ruin you?” You were muttering against his panting mouth with a small smile, hands petting his hair affectionately.
“Almost.” He answered with a slight laugh, kissing you again.
——
By the time you and Jake had left the field, giggling together while you stuffed the wet blanket back into your backpack and jumped over mud puddles, the sun was set and gone.
You followed the streetlights home, walking the bikes side by side the entire time so the 20 minute ride turned into an hour walk.
You went a few streets without talking for a while, listening to the sounds of your tires rolling over gravel or the music nature provided from the surrounding woods just off in the distance. By the time you were crossing back into city limits and setting your sights on the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town, your curiosity was weighing on you.
“Why did you move here anyways?” You were mumbling on accident so you weren’t sure he had heard you until he cleared his throat.
“A council member caught dad hitting mom.” He said it casually and you wondered if he was used to it or it was a practiced tone. “I guess they thought it’d look bad to punish him there so they sent us away.”
“Does he hit you too?” You weren’t sure why you asked that considering you were already pretty positive of the answer.
“Yeah sometimes.” He shrugged and tried not to fidget at the feeling of you watching him, kicking at a loose rock in the gravel road. “I think he’s mad I’m not very manly.”
“I think you’re manly.” You were frowning and furrowing your eyebrows, only deepening when you heard him let out a disbelieving scoff. “I’m serious.”
And you were. Despite Jake’s outwardly timid personality and the way he basically turned into a nervous obedient puppy everytime you got your hands on him, he was clearly a man. Both in his broad athletic build and in his day to day actions and personality. He was blunt and honest, telling you what he felt even if he thought it might anger you.
“Yeah, whatever.” He was whispering, still not trusting what you were saying and you froze in your tracks, stood directly under a streetlight. He slowed to a stop when he realized you were walking anymore and looked back at you in confusion.
“You wouldn’t have picked on me if I was manly.” He was explaining once he caught sight of your frustrated expression. “You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“You think I’m picking on you?” You ignored his second statement for now, eyes darkening at the implication of the first.
You weren’t sure why it struck a nerve within you considering he wasn’t half wrong. You had originally sought him out as a victim for you, an experiment or a game. Maybe even a way to further upset your mother, but you didn’t think he thought you were picking on him entirely.
“I don’t know what to think.” He was shaking his head and his eyes looked sad. He started to push his bike again and you rushed to catch up with him. “This is just confusing.”
“Well I’m not.” You kept your voice firm in an attempt to assure him and he didn’t say anything else, sparing you a long glance before looking back forward so he didn’t accidentally hit a pothole.
The two of you didn’t talk anymore after that, walking in a comfortable silence as you slowly got to a more familiar area for him and he realized you were slowly approaching his neighborhood. You must be planning on dropping him off before making you own way home he decided.
Those plans were quickly halted when you turned the corner of his street and saw your own parents car in his driveway, right next to the Sim’s. You both froze in place and stared in front of you in horror.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence.” He whispered and you jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the words shaking slightly. “We can tell them we got caught up studying at the park.”
“If they’re here they already know.” You immediately stated in a flat voice, having a sick gut feeling as you looked at the two cars. The lights were on in Jake’s living room and you could vaguely make out multiple shadows walking around inside. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your dad heard something the other day.” He was rushing out in a hush, looking at you and your uncharacteristically frozen figure. He’d never seen you scared before and it made his skin crawl. “Or that lady in the basement.”
“No that’s not possible, I was-“ Your words faltered and you sucked in a panicked breath, trying to recall the two incidents he was talking about. You had been so caught up in your giddiness to talk to him that you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings this morning at all, saying damning idiotic things to him in the church of all places.
His hand was coming up and brushing against your arm that was covered in goosebumps. “Go home. I’ll think of a cover for you, I’ll handle it.”
You looked at him with big eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the fact he was willingly to lie for you so easily, willing to sin to both his parents and yours so you could be spared from punishment.
“I can’t leave you with them.” You were shaking your head in earnest and he deflated, understanding immediately there was no way of talking you out of it.
You both stood there for a few more beats, staring at each other under the street light and you briefly wondered if you’d see him again after this. You weren’t sure what your parents knew or if they were just following a strong hunch but you knew it didn’t matter. The second they suspected anything, atleast the men, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Jake anymore.
Eventually he took the first step, setting his bike down at the corner of the street and nudging for you to follow suit although you gave him a confused glance.
Following closely behind him, you tried to match his slow casual pace approaching the door and almost felt like you were going to throw up on the porch when he pushed it open without knocking, deciding to not give them any warning you were approaching.
The sight was just as dreadful as you imagined it would be, your parents sat on the Sim’s old couch while his were standing at attention and listening to whatever it was your father had been saying before your arrival.
All heads turned in your direction when you entered, half looking surprised you were together and the others showing no reaction. Your mother was immediately leaping up from the couch and approaching you with a scowl.
You felt her hand hitting your cheek before you even processed she was crossing the room, your head shooting sideways as your own palms came up to grasp your face in shock. Despite your differences, your mother had never directly struck you.
“You’re a disgrace.” She spat, literally, in your direction and you vaguely saw Jake flinch in your direction like he wanted to grab you. “No more games little girl, they finally see what I have all these years.”
One glance in your fathers direction told you she was telling the truth. He’d never been a good father but he wasn’t cruel, choosing religion over warmth and parenting. So upon seeing his cold stare you automatically knew things were too far gone.
“And you.” She was turning to sneer in Jake’s direction now and you were slightly surprised to see him square back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “How can you be so stupid?”
“Mary, please advise yourself on how you speak to my son.” Jake’s mother was piling up from the couch “I thought we agreed that your daughter is the one at fault here.”
“What?” Jake was spitting out and your eyes widened, wanting to tell him to shut up and let it run its course. “It was as much me as it was her.”
“No it wasn’t.” You were shaking your head at lightning speed, taking a step forward but rocking back again when your mother shot a glare in your direction. “It was all me.”
Jake was glaring at you but you knew he held no anger, only frustration that you were attempting to take the punishment for this. He was crazy to think you wouldn’t considering it was all your doing in the first place.
“It doesn’t matter.” Your fathers cool and calm voice was ringing out and everybody turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning Y/N will be sent to a correctional school. I should’ve listened to your mother when she begged me to send you years ago.”
Your eyes were watering as you looked at him with pure betrayal. Despite your hatred for your town, for your longing to leave and never return you felt an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being sent away. You looked over at Jake to find him already watching you with the same panic in his eyes.
Then he was turning back towards your father with a shake of his head and a stony expression. “I won’t let you do that.”
Jake’s father scoffed, making his first noise of the night and you glanced over at his large frame. He was watching Jake with disgust and amusement but you saw a faint hint of a challenge in his eyes.
“And what will you do son?” He was approaching Jake with a sneer, looking down at him. Jake raised his chin to meet his stare, his hands shaking against his sides. “You can’t even protect your own mother.”
It was said in a whisper so only Jake could hear it but you were standing close enough to faintly catch it, mouth parting in shock at his blunt admission before opening further when Jake was suddenly moving faster than you could even pinpoint when he had started.
Jake was on his father before he even had a chance to prepare for it and you could hear the shrieks of the women, your own fathers grunts as he jumped off the couch to try and control the situation. You were standing on the side, hands out and trying to grip a hold of Jake’s jacket to tug him back when he glanced back at your hurriedly while his dad was disoriented.
“Go.” He mouthed the word at you and you felt your heart shatter slightly, shaking your head in denial before he gave you a firm nod and a soft smile.
You could do nothing but watch in horror as his dad took advantage of him being distracted, slamming Jake onto the ground, nearly blocking the front door. You took your chance to run before somebody realized you were going to and stopped you, sparing Jake one last look before heading out the door.
You aggressively wiped your tears as you ran down the street, sobbing as you could still hear the screams and grunts of pain from Jake coming from the door you’d left open. Your cheek was stinging still but you powered through it, letting the cold numb you as you hopped on your bike you’d abandoned under the light and started peddling so hard your thighs burned.
The wind was howling as you sped past your own neighborhood and the church, the empty buildings a blur through your teary eyes and you fell off your bike once you finally approached the field you’d been in earlier that day, landing in the mud with a cry.
You left your bike near the entrance, wobbling closer to the river with harsh sobs ripping through you, your knees and skirt dripping in mud.
For a moment you wondered if this was it. If you’d been wrong your entire life about religion and sin and this was god letting you know he was here and he was furious with you for the evil you let harvest.
If taking Jake and hurting him was all because you had done bad things and harmed the people around you. You let out a scream of frustration and looked up at the dark grey, wanting to tell him you didn’t care if he was watching and it wasn’t fair.
Instead you let yourself fall against the wet grass, curling into a ball and hugging your knees to your chest as you listened to the rushing river and the honks of traffic. You briefly remembered you were still wearing your backpack and it contained a blanket you could cover up with but you had no energy left to reach back to get it.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there crying, the sky getting darker and darker as you sat and waited.
You weren’t positive what you were even waiting for. Maybe for your parents to come searching for you so they could drag you away to some far away place or maybe the more hopeful part of you was waiting for Jake to come, to tell you he was okay.
The thought of him made you cry harder when you remembered the sounds he was making as you ran out and how furious his father looked about being struck. A man with an ego was dangerous especially when it got wounded.
Waves of guilt were rushing over you for dragging Jake into your twisted fantasies, for wanting to keep him even after you’d gotten what you wanted. For liking him despite not knowing you were capable of that until he arrived. You wished the river would fill up and swallow you inside it.
Over all the combined sounds you barely registered a few being added.
You didn’t hear the sound of the bike tires approaching, or the splashing of the mud puddles underneath hurried feet. You didn’t hear his worried pants or the desperate call of your name in the distance.
It wasn’t until he was there did you feel him, it wasn’t until he was reaching down to grab your arm.
Not until it was skin on skin.
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kitkatscabinet · 5 months ago
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Are you there God?
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Summary: A chance meeting in the dilapidated remains of your mother's old church ends up changing the trajectory of two lives
Pairing: Jason Todd x f! Reader
Word count: 2k
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of Christianity and nsfw themes. Unedited.
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There’s a chill in the air, carrying with it the promise of an upcoming winter. The old church offers little reprieve from the harsh bite of the night air, the wind easily pushing through dilapidated wood. 
The many near burnt-out candles that flicker and cast dancing shadows across the darkened chapel emanate no heat. Nor does the flimsy jacket you’d hastily adorned before this impromptu midnight visit. 
Your fingertips tingle from the cool temperature, even as you exhale smoke from the cigarette you’d used one of the dying candles to light. 
Sacrilegious sure, you could perfectly picture the scowling faces of the nuns if they could see you, but it was one of those nights—the nights where you needed something, anything to take the edge off. 
And if nicotine was your preferred poison? Well better that than heroin you argued. 
Besides, if God existed then he had bigger issues to worry about than you sprinkling some ash on the floor of an old dilapidated church slated for condemnation. 
A tinge of sorrow hits you as you take in the poor state of what was once your mother’s church. You’ve no fond memories of the place, having hated being dragged along every Sunday by your more devout mother in your childhood. Now though, it’s one of your last remaining connections to your long passed mother. 
Gotham had never been an overtly religious city, you guessed it was hard to believe in a supposedly merciful God when you lived in such a shithole. And ever since the discovery of aliens, demons and the like, Gotham’s faith in anything divine had long since seemed to die out completely.
You stare up at the wooden Jesus hanging behind the pew contemplatively. It’s silly, you’re not even remotely religious but something compels you to speak to the empty space regardless. 
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned” That was how it went right? “It’s been… well forever since my last confession.” 
“I look like a priest to you darlin?” A startled screech leaves your lips at the unexpected masculine voice. Jolting, the butt of your cigarette flies from your hand, your free one clutching at your chest. 
“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, trying to calm your hammering heart. 
“Not quite.” The voice rumbles as a muscular figure steps into your view. Your eyes trail from booted feet up to thick thighs adorned with gun holsters that inspire some incredibly less-than-holy thoughts. But it’s the blazing red bat symbol stretched across the man’s chest that makes your mouth run dry, it's the Red Hood.
You’d never seen the gun-toting, violent, vigilante in person but it's unmistakable who’s standing across from you now.  Forcing your breathing to even out, you allow your muscles to relax as you lean back against the wooden pew. 
“Too pretty to be a priest.” You agree with his earlier statement, watching in amusement as the vigilante stutters in his steps. It was cute, watching a man of his renown and stature suddenly flounder in embarrassment. 
“Didn’t exactly take you to be the religious sort.” You say, gaze never once leaving his form as he slowly sits down on the creaking bench beside you. 
“I’m not.” He grunts.
“Me neither.” You confess, the two of you sitting in companionable silence as you stare up at the wooden Jesus that presided over the church. 
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You don’t know what compels you to keep returning to that dilapidated old church (that’s a lie, you know damn well why), but like clockwork, every Sunday night you return. And every Sunday night, so does he. 
At first, he hadn’t been consistent. Why would he? The Red Hood had no reason to be skulking around a random church, nor did he have a reason to want to see you. 
Still, you kept going to that church, and unbeknownst to you, so did he. 
Since that first night, Jason Todd had been watching. What had started with concern over a young woman walking alone at night had morphed into curiosity into what he refused to acknowledge was a crush. 
Though he’s pretty sure not even the helmet had been able to hide the heart eyes he’d thrown your way when you admitted that Pride and Prejudice was your favourite novel. 
He’s late sometimes, bloodied and bruised, but three months following that first fateful meeting, the Red Hood goes out of his way to meet with a random civilian girl. 
It was nearing the two-month mark when everything changed. The both of you were forced to acknowledge the underlying tension of the odd and unexpected friendship that had formed in the twilight hours spent under the roof of a God neither of you believed in. 
It had been the first time you’d seen him injured, barely a scratch in Jason’s opinion, but the way you’d worked yourself into a frenzy of worry over him, the way you’d dropped to your knees before him and had taken his bloody knuckles into your gentle touch would forever be engraved into his mind. 
It’s at that moment that Jason realises God’s not there, because if so then surely he would have smitten Jason then and there for thinking such sinful thoughts in his house. Besides, as far as he was concerned, you were the only entity worth praying to anyway. 
He wants so badly to rip off the mask, secret identity be damned, and kiss you breathless. In the end, cowardice wins out, but Jason thinks back on that night often with regret. 
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“Favourite hero go,” Red asks, turning to look at you with what you imagine is a smirk under his stupid red helmet. 
“It’s not you if that’s what you’re fishing for,” you grin, looking back up at the ceiling from where you lay on the wooden floor, protected from the dust and splinters by an old picnic blanket. 
The terrifying sort-of-crimelord lying beside you scoffs in offence like the big baby he is. 
“Ok then who is it?”
“Wonder Woman.”
“Oh that’s such a basic bitch fucking answer.” You know he’s joking, Red’s made it clear that despite his distaste for Batman he respects the hell out of Wonder Woman. Still, you entertain him, rolling your eyes dramatically. 
“Fine, you wanna know the real answer? It’s Black Canary, but specifically when she was rocking that full-body black leotard with the mesh cutouts on the legs and the cropped bomber jacket.”
There’s a stunned silence that follows your passionate answer before Red bursts into laughter. 
“Oh, fuck you,” you quip, though there’s no actual heat behind your words. 
“You wish.” Any witty retort instantly dies on your lips and you’re suddenly distinctly aware of the heat emanating off his shoulder which brushes lightly against yours. 
Red has stopped laughing, coughing to clear his throat as you suddenly wish for the floor to swallow you whole. For anything to distract you from the way your mind suddenly races, filled with various images of different positions you could achieve right there in front of Jesus. 
“Right, well, I should probably go. Bad guys to catch and all.” It’s painfully awkward and so is your lacklustre response. 
“Oh, yeah … yeah.”
Neither of you move though and you don’t think you’ve ever been more hyper-aware of your body and the one lying next to you in your life. You quickly sit up, the vigilante mimicking your movements. 
“So um —”
“Well I — ” The both of you speak at once, you motion for him to go first and he clears his throat once more. 
“I should probably go now. Bye.” With that, he’s gone so fast he might as well have been the flash, leaving you alone to stew in the mortification and arousal that’s worked its way into your belly. 
A scream of frustration rips its way out of your throat when your mind conjures up the very graphic image of you straddling one of Red’s delicious thighs and refuses to drop the line of thought. 
Little did you know, Jason had needed to cut his patrol short for the same reason. A cold shower having practically screamed his name. 
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Footsteps echoed up the aisle towards where you were sat in the front pew, as had become a tradition between you and your vigilante, playfully you turn towards the source. “Hey Red, you’re late — ” the words die on your tongue, mouth running dry as you take in a trio of figures, none of whom are the Red Hood. 
The fear must show on your face as you shakily stand, and try to create space from the ominously grinning men. 
“What’s the matter darlin?” One of them drawls, and you want to throw up at the use of the petname, that was what he called you. 
“Look, I don’t know what you want but my friend will be here soon.” You mentally curse yourself when you notice the way your voice quivers, and the men clearly pick up on it too. 
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Fear nearly roots you to your place at the surety in his words, but you live in Gotham and Red Hood has made it his mission to get you to be able to defend yourself. 
You don’t think, you just move, and when the nearest guy reaches out to grab your arm you knee him in the balls. He goes down with a howl and you think you break the second guy's nose if the crunch is any indication. 
The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety has you stopping in your tracks once more.  “That’s it, just settle down now. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours now would we?”
Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, unwilling to give them the satisfaction. Goon #2 uses the opportunity to grab your arm in a bruising grip before a blow to the cheek leaves you reeling, black dots dancing across your vision as you struggle to regain your senses. 
“Speak for yourself, the little bitch broke my fucking nose.” 
“What do you want from me?” You croak when you finally regain the ability to speak, ignoring the metallic taste of blood on your tongue. 
“From you? Nothing. It’s not personal darling, but the word around here is that the Red Hood is sweet on ya, and well, I don’t appreciate the way he’s been nosing about my business lately.”
You should be terrified of the implications of that statement, about what these men will do to you, and you are — but you can’t stop thinking about how Red will inevitably blame himself for anything that happens to you. 
You close your eyes, trying to make peace with what is likely the hour of your death. You’re in a house of God, you should be praying to him, and yet all you can think of is Red. Your Red.
A gunshot rings out, followed by another, and another. When seconds pass and you feel no pain you open your eyes, just in time to witness the Red Hood reaching gently for your face. Despite yourself, you flinch slightly when his gloved hand brushes lightly against your cheek. 
He reels back as if stricken, and immediately you wish to rectify your mistake. With a sob, you launch yourself into his arms, ignoring what is probably the corpses of the three men lying on the ground. 
“You saved me,” you mumbled against his chest, relishing in how safe you felt encased in his arms. 
“Always.” There’s such surety in that single word, such devotion that you believe him. 
“Red — ” you mumble, pulling away to meet what you expect to be the whites of his mask, only to gasp when you find yourself looking into swirling pools of blue-green. 
“Jason,” the whispered name is a confession to you alone, though you barely have time to ponder the new information before a pair of lips descend upon your own. Your eyes flutter closed once more, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 
You’ll deal with the after-effects of what you just experienced later, what almost happened to you, for now, you’re content to remain absorbed in Red’s — in Jason’s arms.
The man who'd been there when God wasn't.
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screeching-bunny · 1 year ago
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Dark/yandere king x the queen's lady in waiting mc, perhaps with Anne boleyn vibes👑🌹♟️♥️
Saw the witch x priest post and I have to say that the morally grey protagonist is a really refreshing and unique take
Yandere! King pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt.1
Even though you were never assigned to him Yandere! King couldn’t help but want to be by his side no matter what. You are the in-waiting for the queen, you’ve been with her for all her life and you adored her. She was strong willed and she was extremely intelligent. You’ve been by her side ever since you were young and have a tight bond with her. She was cold but you were happy to serve someone like her. Yandere! King was someone that people couldn’t be offended easily. When in his presence, everyone needed to watch their tongues if they wanted to keep it. He was a ruthless man who only cared about his own needs and goals. Even though he was married it was clear to see that the marriage was clearly political. There was no love between the two of them and they would almost daily cheat on each other. He sometimes even forgot that she existed. It was due to this loveless marriage that he became so interested in you.
Any normal person would be intimidated by this but you honestly didn’t care. If his attention would help you get a pay raise then let him stare at you all you want. In this economy, there was no way you were letting this money bag go. Something that you noticed about this man was that he was overly possessive and seemingly jealous of the things that he considered “his”. If he remotely took interest in something then it was his until he got bored and discards it. No one is dumb enough to stand in his way; he's cunning, backstabbing, and absolutely brutal. Morality means nothing when faced in his way.
Right now, your current situation was… strange. In a dining hall filled with luxurious food. There was a centerpiece in the middle of the table that no one could take their eyes off of.
“You’re majesty, please let me go! I repent, please forgive me for my sins! Please just don’t kill me!” The man screams with streams of tears pouring down his face. It was quite a pathetic sight to behold.
Yandere! King stared coldly at the man nailed down to the dining table. The look on his face could send shivers down anyone’s spine. He was absolutely pissed off right now. Aside from the man in the middle screaming, the room was filled with absolute silence as everyone held their breath. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut it with a knife.
“Your highness please have mercy on my husband! He didn’t mean to! He wasn’t in the right mind! Please forgive him!” The man’s wife begged.
“Listen to him scream like a pig. He touched someone who belonged to me. A sin like that is unforgivable.” Looking your way the king says in a menacing voice. “Tell me where he touched you.” Oh boy, you knew for sure that this was about to get very bloody. Man you really wanted to leave right now. All you could do was hope that he’d increase your salary pay after this for compensation for having to witness this. Like yeah it sucked that someone was going to die right now but there’s no way that you’re quitting. This job paid way too much and you were way too money hungry to quit.
“Tell me where did he touch you? I’ll make sure to gouge out the exact body parts to match.”
“My cheek, my neck, my waist, and my thigh”
Giving you a dismissive look, the king finally allows you to finally leave. On your way out all you could hear were the screams of the man and the sound of ripping flesh. Thank god that was over, it was starting to get annoying. Now you might be wondering where was the queen in all of this? Well, she was with her lover of course! Like I said, the king and queens marriage was only a political one. As long as they didn’t bother each other or get into the other's business, then they did not care about what the other did. It was just truly a loveless marriage.
Making your way towards the queen’s chambers you begin to perform your daily duties. Mindless tasks that bore you to death. The only reason your pay was so good was because of how fond Yandere! King is of you. Any other person in your position would only get a fraction of your wage. You were a bit thankful for this because if he ever deemed you as boring and fired you. You’d still have enough money to live a fairly decent lifestyle. Something that you’ve learned while working for the royal family was that it was always best to stay away from their personal affairs. It gets real ugly once an outsider ever decides to interfere. You honestly wished you knew this before your parents forced you to sign up for this job. Maybe it would have saved you from an annoying king?
Sometimes he’d hand you little trinkets to indulge yourself in. It seemed that he was quite fond of observing you and witnessing your reaction to new devices. With someone like him running the country most people would think that it’d be in ruins. However, he’s definitely smart and knows how to run a country. It’s thanks to him that his kingdom has one of the best economies in the world.
Even though you were primarily assigned to the queen you saw Yandere! King more than her. To you, he was an obnoxious and dangerous figure. One that can easily win wars and conquer any land he so desires. He is a very selfish man that has a habit of being physically and emotionally manipulative. To be honest you can’t say you were any better. Oftentimes you’d use people to your own benefit but he’d definitely take it to the extreme. The amount of people that he used and discarded was insane. Weakness is a word that seems to be out of his dictionary.You could never tell what exactly he was thinking, he was like an enigma. One thing you were certain about was that with the rate of his obsession he’d never leave you alone.
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kissesandarsenic · 17 days ago
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Day 25 - Cult
You’d always been such a good and faithful little lamb. Following the doctrine to a T, never causing a fuss whether it was out of fear, anxiety or sheer blind loyalty. You were happy to fade into the background. A good and obedient follower.
Little do you know, I’ve been watching you for a long time, sweetheart.
When you’re picked as our sacrifice, we get a taste of resistance. There's crying, a bit of theatrics, an attempt to run away. It’s cute more than anything. You’re caught in no time at all and dragged in chains to my sanctum. Once there, frightened and tear-stained, you collapse to the floor at my feet. 
‘Please,’ you beg. You look so fucking pretty on your knees, darling, has anyone told you? ‘Please, your Holiness, I don’t want to die.’ 
I cover my grin with a sympathetic titter. ‘I know, love. I know. But this is what the Gods require. Isn’t it a privilege to be picked amidst all the others to serve such a vital role?’
You shake your head. If it were anyone else, I’d strike them for their insolence. But you’re too cute to mar. For now, at least. 
‘I’m scared, please,’ your hands fist in my robes. Tears drip onto the hardwood floor. ‘I’ll do anything. Please spare me.’ 
Gods, this couldn’t be going better… You really are perfect. So trusting when I crouch down to your level, cup your face in my hands. I’d love nothing more than to push that pretty face between my legs. Have you worship there like it's an altar.
But patience is a virtue, one I'm well practiced in.
‘There is one way,’ I say, voice low and conspiring. ‘We can find someone else… if you’re not a virgin.’ 
You freeze, eyes big and fearful, walls coming up. ‘You want me to…?’ 
‘Oh, no.’ Not yet, anyway. ‘I’ll just… say a little fib. Tell them you confessed your sins to me and aren’t as pure as initially thought.’ 
Your bottom lip trembles but you nod, some of the tension seeping from your shoulders.
‘You’ll be persecuted,’ I warn. ‘Ostracized from your friends and family. But I’ll take you in, darling. You’ll become my attendant, and I’ll take care of you and protect you from their judgement. Nothing will hurt you as long as I’m around.’ 
Your eyes shine bright as you fall into my arms, sobbing as relief hits you. You thank me for being so merciful and looking out for you. Gods, you really are so fucking easy.
It won’t be long until you’re spread out beneath me, letting me take that precious purity away from you. Begging for it even as you prove your true devotion. 
Not to the Gods, but to me.
Loretta and Salt's Kinktober Masterlist
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rpmemes-galore · 11 months ago
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raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters
"Then perish."
"Pick a god and pray."
"Even fate picks its favorites."
"Everything happens so much."
"I pity the fool that lives like you."
"Then become the dirt I walk on."
“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”
"I am a monument to all your sins."
“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”
“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“
"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."
"If you want me to die you can just say so."
"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."
"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."
"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"
"We might be in the history God abandoned."
"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."
"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."
"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."
"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."
"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."
“I have been through hell and come out singing.”
"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."
"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."
"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."
"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."
“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“
"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."
"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."
"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."
"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."
"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"
"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."
“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”
“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”
“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“
"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."
"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."
"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."
"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."
"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."
"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."
"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."
"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."
"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."
"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."
"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."
"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."
"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"
"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."
“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”
"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"
“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”
"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."
"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."
“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“
"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."
“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”
"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."
"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."
"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."
"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."
"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."
"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."
"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."
"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."
"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."
"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."
"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."
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libertyybellls · 11 months ago
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silver soul !
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pairing; finnick odair x fem reader
summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.
contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.
oh, finnick.
you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.
he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.
he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.
“i’ll be okay.”
you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.
“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.
it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.
you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”
‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?
he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.
“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”
he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.
you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.
there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”
i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.
he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.
your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.
only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.
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a-living-canvas · 4 months ago
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A Sadist and A Saint
"You want to pray?"
Whumpee nodded, their eyes silently pleading to Whumper. There's not much they can do down here but they would be grateful if Whumper would be so merciful for them this time.
Whumper sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he pondered carefully. It wouldn't take that much time and it would be harmless anyway. Finally, Whumper nodded as he crossed his arms under his chest. "Sure, you can. But make it fast."
Whumpee beamed up, "Thank you! Thank you, master!"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Whumper let Whumpee used his bedroom as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching them closely. Their movements and their soft whispers. It intrigued him, as an atheist. Maybe he could learn a little about how religions work, how this world functions with them.
Whumper might look down at people around him all the time, but he never prides himself as a highest being, much less as a God. He's just a normal guy with selfish needs and selfish wants.
After Whumpee finished with their business, Whumper pulled their wrist to sit on the bed beside him. Ruffling their hair, Whumper asked, "Do you ask anything from your God?"
Whumpee seemed a bit stunned from the question but they nodded anyway. Whumper hummed, he thought for a moment before asking the next question. "What did you ask for?"
"...I asked for forgiveness."
Whumpee swung their legs playfully as they looked up at Whumper. Whumper raised an eyebrow at the answer. "Forgiveness? For what?"
"Hmm for my past mistakes that lead me to end up here."
Whumper frowned."...You think me torturing you is a punishment for your sins?"
Whumpee nodded. Whumper pinched the bridge of his nose, confused. He tried to wrap his mind around what Whumpee said but he just couldn't. He didn't even know what Whumpee did in the past. He just kidnap and torture them for—
"I do this for fun, Whumpee. I don't even know you. Do you think if I release you or you finally escape that means He forgives you?"
Whumpee gulped down nervously. They fidgeted with their hands. "I-I'm a bad person. I made many mistakes and I really regretted it. I want to atone for my sins…"
"Huh…" Whumper looked at them with a blank expression. "That's why you never fight me, huh? Because you think you deserve it."
Whumper shifted slightly to face Whumpee. "But what if you never escape? What if you die here?"
Whumpee's eyes widened a tad bit before casting it downward. "T-that just means I'm meant to die here, then…"
"Oh, is that so?"
Whumper stood up and walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Whumpee waited patiently, along with a slight anxiety. When Whumper returned again, Whumpee's heart stopped beating for a moment.
They backed away, climbing further up to the bed. Whumper chuckled, slowly walked towards them and grabbed their arms, preventing them from running away. He sat on Whumpee's midriff, his legs holding his arms securely.
"M-master, please! I thought we were done for the—"
"Oh, we are. This is not to torture you, this is to kill you."
Whumper trailed the tip of the knife across Whumpee's throat, not too light but not too deep to cut their skin. He relished in Whumpee's soft whimpers as he chuckled a little. "Why are you so scared? I thought you were ready for this. You want to make up for your bad deeds, right?"
"Y-yes, but—"
"But what? You are a sinful person, aren't you? You don't deserve to live." Whumper tipped Whumpee's chin up with the knife. "A waste of oxygen."
"M-master please…don't kill..m-me…"
Whumper hummed, he brought the knife to Whumpee's lips and sliced the middle part of it slowly. Whumpee winced in pain, the familiar metallic smell entering their nostrils. "You know, Whumpee, I had a vision."
Whumper caressed Whumpee's bloody lips, smearing the blood across their cheeks. "I wanted to die with my body lying in a pool of blood. I wanted to cut my body as much as I could and suffer in pain until I die. Because I thought I deserve that kind of ending."
Whumpee let out a shaky exhale when Whumper poked their collarbone a few times with the sharp edge. "But not anymore, I want to live. In fact, I need to live to make people suffer a little. You can't be happy all the time you know."
He smiled, his lips turning into a creepy grin. "I wonder how many cuts it would be until you finally die…"
~
@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @risk606 @heyyitsworld @htavin87 @jennyyy007 @electrons2006 @valravnthefrenchie @theforeverdyingperson
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Darling Silent Bird
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Rated M
unbeta-ed
TW: dark, non-con elements, captivity, forced mute reader,
a/n: listen i can explain (i wont) blame his outfit! this fic might have part two idk just needed to write this idea out lol
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A tower, grand and tall, it pierced the heavens. Here the Emissary of God, the King who believed himself a Sun rains and rules with cruelty. His word is the word of God and as such is divine law.
But he is a man, flesh and sinful no matter how much he delivers penance upon himself.
His sin, his vice, his deliverance, his light and darkness: you. You who dare make his flesh ache, you who cursed the emissary with lustful thoughts, you who dare reject him when he called upon you. A simple human who should have been grateful to be called upon by the King in the High Tower, Lord of Babel! Instead, you ran. Fleeing with your lover to the neighboring extension of Babel, Zot.
From there, a new life was going to be made in the forest free from the eyes of the king. But… He found you.
“We have consummated our marriage! I am bound by my body and word to my beloved!” You had shouted the words as your partner and yourself were brought before the King, the room was so cold that day as if the warmth of the Sun dared not enter. With cuffs and chains of heavy iron, dirty from trying to outrun the guards and falling on the ground.
You will never understand how he felt threatened by the love between a farmer girl and a shepherd. How they wedded in a small church and swore to each other to never part.
Love is pure and celebrated, yet he will say it was a sinful union. Lies, spreading it like spilled ink, about the shepherd who was possessed by an unholy creature. How it seduced you and the great Lord of the High Tower saved you… Cleansed you of its taint.
It is not your place to understand madness.
His eyes are hot like the flames of judgment, his lips sneering at why you shout your love for a person who is not him. You cried, pleading with him to see the love shared between your partner and you, to ask the God of the heavens to show him the truth of these words.
Your partner had spoken up, named everything they loved about you, that they would prove before the Heavenly King of the love and bond they have with you.
“Oh?” A bored expression, “Then by all means show your love!” Snapping his fingers, the guard removed your lover’s cuffs. “Give them a sword.” Gesturing to the guard holding your partner down.
The confusion on both your faces was priceless—It seems, “If you so dearly love her,” He stood up slowly, “Kill my guards.”
A guard tosses a blade on the floor and your beloved with shaking hands picks up the sword, “My lord,” The sword is awkward in their hands, “Killing is a sin.” They are… They followed the laws, they are gentle-spirited, and they were not a fighter.
“Indeed it is, yet,” Standing with narrowed cold eyes, “If you do not kill, you will die.”
The guard drawing their swords, the sound of metal sliding out of the sheathes ringing in your ears.
You screamed for mercy that day, begged as they toyed with your beloved. Cutting, laughing— The King laughed as they made the death of the commoner cruel and slow. 
“Halt,” Your lover, your heart, laying on the ground in a pool of their own blood in what is supposed to be a sacred place. A place where the Emissary of God and His light shine with blinding radiance, how wrong is this scene that will haunt your dreams?
“Watch.” He whispers as you are pulled by your hair to expose your neck bare to the Sun King.
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Silence.
In the darkness, a numbness settles around you. The moon is high above the cage. Hues of blue that is your illumination, you stare up before sitting up on the ruined bed stained and smelling of sex. You reach up as if you could capture your solo companion the King cannot take away from you, not until the sun steals its place.
At night, your heart escapes into the hands of the moon. A cold, distant, creature that hears your songs of morning. Witnessing your tears, your sorrowful dance with the chain rattling with your movements.
The Sun King has taken you as his own. He promises to marry you once preparations are made.
“If the tongue offends,” Grinning as he spoke, “Cut it out.”
You will never be able to speak during the day. In the light of His brilliance, you speak no evil! At night, you will sing only of His glory and gospel.
Laughable given the bastard--The murderer-- The king of ruin takes you at night whenever he feels his fleshly desires can no longer be prayed away.
Disgusting, you hate him! Hate him for being this fabricator of falsehoods and twisted needs!
You cry in your hands as his touch stains your skin, imprinted upon your body as he is viciously trying to erase the trace of your first from your body. He hates that, hates your first was not his. So he treats you like some whore! As if you were frivolous and should be shameful.
The sun, scorning and blinding, is your warden and enslaver. 
When the cage opens, you dare not move from your spot on the floor near the shadows on the other side of the large cage.
A new piece of furniture is added as a gift each year during the winter. A bed, a vase, flowers, and other materialist things the Sun King believes will please you. The gift he recently gave you is a dress. It drapes over you like the way the bedsheet did when he punished you by stripping you down to bear your shame.
You take all of his sins. All that is of the flesh is taken by you his vice and confessor.
The dress leaves nothing to the imagination and is white like the marble of the floors; reflects light well to the point of… He smiles as he makes you twirl in the dress, an angel. 
Years pass. Winters past. And soon your wedding is announced when he deems you are docile enough to be seen by others.
He lies claiming ‘God’ has gifted him you, that the moment his eyes saw you he and you were connected by the light of His blessing.
The wedding is grand—Grand and noisy. You feel sick the whole time. Being close to him is like enduring the fire at the stake, a slow and painful death.
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Summer. Longer days and shorter nights. You once loved the season until you relied on the moon to be able to speak.
Summer is when the whispers of rebellion are no longer whispers, they are shouts and cries. Discontent, paranoia, and the Sun King, Lord of Babel is becoming more antsy.
You feel nothing. Within your cage, nothing outside of it matters. If the rebellion wins or loses, you doubt much will change. She told you so. In the brightest corners of the night, She whispers in your dreams. Your voice calling out to Her and She calling out to you with your voice.
She tells you to fear nothing, to turn away from the Sun, from the False God and his emissary. She will ascend when the time is right and you will be there to deliver a true revolution.
Patience. You obey, you dance and sing for the Sun King, but your eyes are on the moon above.
The cries become louder as Zot falls. Brought to ruins by a ‘Morningstar’, a demon they call him. Ruthless and clever, he has risen from the seven hells to destroy the High Towers of the heavenly God and swears that the Lord of Babel will fall.
Those who are oppressed cheer for him though they dare not voice it within the radiance and wrath of the Sun King.
“None will harm you, my love.” Does he even know what love is? He claims to love you yet love would not make a cruel creature like him. You allow him to make his promises, his lips on your forehead and cheeks, his hands shake… He is losing his confidence as the army is just outside the walls, and his people turn against him.
“Nothing will harm you.” He sleeps on your lap, he knows you have no will to fight or kill him, he broke you long ago when he killed your lover. 
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Most are happy with the fall of the king. The rebellion caused the kingdom of Babel to crumble and give way to chaos in the land.
The king is overthrown, the oppressed become the oppressors, and new lies are made into law. 
He is the Lord of the Morningstar and none will raise a tower to God for the Morningstar is the new God of the land.
In crimson, he paints the kingdom. Blood is his paint.
In ebony, the shadows hide the betrayals. Those close to the Sun King helped in his fall, the eclipse of the sun to darken the land.
And in ivory, he dresses you as his consort. The most treasured of the Sun King, a mortal who sings and dances at his beck and call.
The guards show you to the new King, a Lord of Slaughter and Rebellion. You are shown to him even though those guards were sworn to protect you. Maybe they see you as an oppressor rather than a victim like they are. Guess being called the ‘Sun Queen’ makes you seem just as guilty.
Blind to your pain, they simply wish to toss you away or have you switch from one captor to another.
You were the favorite and you are just an object… A pet.
A bird in a golden cage, marble and stained glass room with the centerpiece of your cage surrounded by various flowers and birds singing a tune. You are displayed like a prize and the invader is more than happy to claim.
“Do you speak?”
You turn away from the man in crimson with a black crown-style mask. He eyes the graceful movements of your body as you sit on the bed in the center of your cage. The sound of keys jingling, metal gears clicking, and creaking of the cage door.
You soundlessly sigh as you bow your head.
“A mute bird,” The clicking of his heels nearly makes you jump up and run away… But you know he wants that. Monsters like him love the thrill of the hunt. “But a pretty bird,” He stands beside you at the foot of the bed. “Nonetheless.” The back of his hand, the metal claws of a beast from some fairytale, slides down caressing the bare back left open by your dress. You hold back a shiver and a cringe as he tugs at the chain connected to the golden collar around your neck.
Chains and cuffs on your wrists and ankles are all connected by different points of the cage. Long enough to give you room but a reminder of your place.
You will never be free. This was a promise he made long ago the moment your lover and voice were stolen from you.
The new king pulled the chain behind your neck and caused you to fall backward, your reaction he sought to feed on but you gave none.
He scowls as you turn your head away staring at the open caged door as his hand switches to the silk of your dress. You know what he wants, the king wanted and took from you many times, and your body goes lax-- Doll-like to allow whatever happens to happen.
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nemzd · 8 months ago
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Purification and Order in a plave no diffrent then hell~
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Part:01 /??
You were praying, like any child of the lord would. You were peacefully praying and prasing the Lord in your prayers when suddenly a weird head was poking from the celling.Even though you saw the entity you just continued your prayers and closed yours.. which shocked the entity.. but he had a small smirk, seeming well.. pleased in a way... the entity waited til your prayers were done.. then you spoke..
You: State your business, otherwise leave this house immidieatly.
....
???: You speak very weirdly Mortal... but you seem to speak with Authority... oh well, your no diffrent from the other sinners, so just die..
He pulls out a scythe and pointed it at you, you looked unfazed at him as his scythe was pointed, and right when he was about to slice you in half you.. began to glow.. and you smilled. You finally opened your eyes.. and saw.. a being.. that resembled a .. Angel?... You were slightly alerted.. of the Angel Entity.
???:.. God has left heaven.. but is in the presence of this human?..WHY!??!
...
You just looked at him in shock.. what did he speak about ? God would never leave heaven alone and this is something he would promise!
As you had those thoughts the Angel Entity grabbed your wrist and said.
???: I will take you to heaven and the Lord will finally return!
...
He said so with a crazed face and you couldnt even think a thought before a hit to your neck was given and you fell unconcious....
???: How could the Lords presence be with a simple useless and sinful mortal... .. once this mortal wakes up... this person will have to answer some question when I return in heaven.
...
All you saw was.. black.. nothing could be seen.. but then you woke up and jerked up opening your eyes and as sweat fell down your face, you looked around the place you have been put and saw chains around your wrist and you seemed to be in a room, on a bed ... high dosis of light and honestly a bit to much white on the walls but it was safe to say that you were nervous to say what was going to happen to you but your faith in the lord was strong which is why you stayed strong.
After some time.. someone knocked..... you were very nervous and had small dosis of fear, you quickly begged for the lords mercy and protection over you...
???: Under normal circumstances I would have said to safe your prayers as the lord has left heaven... but you seem to be quite the blessed individual.. more so then us..
You just looked at the being... he also was in some way ... a bit radiating?... But you paid no mind to it...
You:... Who are you and where am I?
The diffrent Angel Entity just looked at you and then began to talk...
???:.. My name is Archangel Micheal.. one of the 3 Seraphs of heaven.. and you.. are in heaven, blessed chosen mortal from the Lord.
....
You just looked schocked at the...Angel?... this was.. Archangel Micheal.. the one who fought and kicked out Satan from heaven itself... Micheal.. The Angel of Light.
~
(Cliffhanger!)
First of all I dont know the whole Story so sorry if there are some errors in the narratives, but I hope its just about right. If this story does get attention from you all, I will continue to write another part for the Story and so on as the idea
Also I wanted to write a long time so I hope ya enjoyed this story, have fun and if ya want more of this just ask for it.
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prumanoenjoyer · 11 months ago
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Or something
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jacks347 · 21 days ago
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A story about a very religious boy who goes to confession every week to pray for God to take his gay thoughts away and the priest's son practicing to take over for his father who slowly falls in love with him until one day when he comes to confession in tears because someone caught him with another boy and he's being burned as a witch, accused by the town and his scared lover that he'd put a spell on him and was practicing witchcraft
The priest finally pulls back the curtain to confess his feelings and help him escape but he's already gone, dragged to the pyre and it's only as the torches are lit that he finally learns the name and face of the boy who stole his heart
"Caleb. Caleb Thomas. The blacksmith's son. That's who he was. The boy who came to confession every week, who begged for the Lord to forgive him, to take away the part of him that was so wrong and broken. The boy I'd come to love. The boy I watched now as my father lit the wood beneath his feet, condemning him to fires far worse than the ones that would sear his mortal skin.
Did he know? Did he know how he'd broken every rule I'd ever been taught with his laugh? How he'd torn down all the walls I'd put up as he told his story? How he'd taught me what love really was? That love was never just the transaction my parents made it seem, it was so much more beautiful than that. Love lived and grew and was so strong it made your head spin and I had it. I'd felt it. But I never got to live it. I was too scared, too stuck in the ways of the past like the generations before me. And now I'd never feel it again. I'm so sorry Caleb. I couldn't save you, I can't even save myself. If loving you is so wrong, then take my heart with you. Let it die in the fire that engulfs you, for that will be the only way I can live in the way I'm supposed to. May God have mercy on your soul."
"David Williams, you have no idea what you've done to me. I see you out there, your eyes just as beautiful as the first time we met. Do you see me now? Do you realize all I've done to try and fill the hole in my heart that was only ever meant for you? Don't cry, my love, I'm not worth your tears. Don't blame yourself for my mistakes. Don't fall in the eyes of the Lord you hold so dear because of me. I was never worth your time, your attention, your heart. I could never be worth it.
I tried, I tried so hard to forget you. To replace you, to rebuke you. But your eyes, your smile, your laugh, they haunt my dreams and remind me of these thoughts and how broken I am. My heart shouldn't miss a beat whenever we make eye contact during mass, I shouldn't ache for your touch whenever our hands would brush together during communion, I shouldn't want you the way I've never wanted a woman. But I do. God strike me down where I stand, I do. And it's because of that I can't have you. I won't taint you the way I've been, I won't give the devil your heart the way he's taken mine. I can only hope God will forgive my grave sin of loving you."
(I wish I could say I was sorry but y'all know I'm not)
(hums "Love was the law, religion was taught")
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shestandsontruth · 4 months ago
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And the morning that You rose All of Heaven held its breath 'Til that stone was moved for good For the Lamb had conquered death And the dead rose from their tombs And the angels stood in awe For the souls of all who'd come To the Father are restored And the church of Christ was born Then the Spirit lit the flame Now this gospel truth of old Shall not kneel, shall not faint By His blood and in His name In His freedom I am free For the love of Jesus Christ Who has resurrected me — King Of Kings by Brooke Ligertwood and Hillsong Worship
"And the morning that You rose"
Matthew 28:1-6: "After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; He has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where He lay.'"
"All of Heaven held its breath 'til that stone was moved for good"
Matthew 28:2: "There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it."
"For the Lamb had conquered death"
1 Corinthians 15:55-57: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
"And the dead rose from their tombs"
Matthew 27:52-53: "The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus' resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people."
"And the angels stood in awe"
Luke 24:4-5: "While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, 'Why do you look for the living among the dead?'"
"For the souls of all who'd come to the Father are restored"
John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."
1 Peter 2:24: "He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by His wounds you have been healed."
"And the Church of Christ was born then the Spirit lit the flame"
Acts 2:1-4: "When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them."
"Now this gospel truth of old shall not kneel, shall not faint"
Matthew 24:35: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."
"By His blood and in His name In His freedom I am free"
Ephesians 1:7: "In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace."
John 8:36: "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
"For the love of Jesus Christ Who has resurrected me"
Romans 6:4: "We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life."
1 Peter 1:3: "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."
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beebopboom · 10 months ago
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Am I a Good Angel? Am I a Mad Angel?
Here for the Occult Stuff
(Intro, part 1)
Last time we explored who The Metatron was among scripture
This is actually going to be like a miniseries within this ongoing analysis of the Metatron because this post and the next were supposed to be one however I recognize this part is pretty out there so it's getting its own part.
Like I know, I understand - this is just to explore and have fun
But join me down this rabbit hole if you want - with an open mind
Not One but Many
There is one interpretation of the Metatron I left out of the last post and it has to do with Éliphas Lévi.
Éliphas Lévi was a French Occultist in the mid 19th century and his works were highly influential in occult circles
When it came to the Metatron he didn’t believe him to be one specific angel but rather an honorific for an enlightened existence. That they are the Chief of Souls on Earth who do not die and instead rise alive to Heaven. He gave them the title Metatron Sarpanim, or Metatron: Prince of Lights.
Here is quote from him
"All Metatrons must have two reigns and they return to earth after having traveled through all the globes of our solar system. This is why the return of Enoch and Elijah will precede the second coming of Jesus."
His ideas are obviously pretty influenced by Enoch but the fact he seen Metatron not as an angel or human but rather a job, or position, is pretty interesting considering how in the show their names seem to be intrinsically linked to their position in Heaven.
Also back in season one there were a few instances of him using “we” - which is probably just referencing Heaven as a whole or perhaps even just God and Himself - just interesting nonetheless
I was going to include that in the next part as a merge between the two. Except because I’m totally normal I decided to keep looking into his works and oh boy…just hear me out
Another Face
If you didn't recognize Lévi by his name you may recognize some of his drawings
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some of these will come into context in a future, separate meta about Agnes Nutter. But you have the seven seals and probably his most recognized drawing, Baphomet - who we are going to focus on here
Stay with me - I'm not trying to say they are one in the same, just some parallels
So let’s break down elements of this drawing
The androgynous nature - with breasts and a phallic caduceus - that represents the union of male and female
Male is meant to represent good and wisdom while Female is to represent evil
The wings which represent spirituality and ascension
The goat head representing sin and animalistic nature of humans
The four elements - wings = air, scales = water, hooves = earth, torch = fire
The gesture which represents "that which is above is like that which is below” - in which "above" is the universe at large or divine realms and "below" is life on earth or the human body
The words on said arms "solve", or to separate, and "coagula", or to bring together
The torch representing intelligence, divine knowledge, and enlightenment - the soul over the body
The pentagram is upright on the head putting spirit above matter
The white and black moon represent the sephiroth Chesed and Gevurah (respectively), therefore the qualities of mercy and severity (respectively).
The caduceus representing magical power, healing, bringing together of opposites, and eternal life
The circle behind the caduceus is reminiscent of the Ouroboros, representing the Principle of Mentalism — all of the universe is in the mind of God.
The image as a whole is reminiscent of the Tree of Life - which if want to learn more about here is a video on that
Baphomet in itself is primarily a symbol of balance, of the goal of a perfect social order. Also has been seen as a symbol of wisdom.
In his writings Lévi says that Baphomet is associated with the nature forces that are explained in his theory of Astral Light
Astral Light - honestly I'm not going to into detail about this because my brain hurts, just pointing out what is relevant I guess
In his book Dogma and Ritual of High Magic he describes it as this blind, amoral, universal force that sweeps all before it in a perpetual and restless search for equilibrium
That it was created when God said “let there be light” and is "indifferent in itself” - can be used for good and evil
He also notes "it is a kind of universal record keeper that registers all of our desires, intentions and, acts.”
Honestly there is a whole history between Baphomet, Templars and the Freemasons - largely due to them being falsely accused of worshipping them, or so it is said. Plus Aleister Crowley thrown into all this. It’s just a lot but if it’s wanted I can go into further detail about it.
If have been following along with this series though some of these things might have set off some alarm bells in relation to the Metatron
It’s just something about an Angel dressed in dark clothes that hints at a duality, a balance, who is primarily remembered as a head - a head that holds knowledge - a human head with a goatee 
Something about him giving the “choice” of bringing together Aziraphale and Crowley as angels or completely them ignoring him and staying together on Earth except was that ever an option really? or to separate - with a coffee that he lifts up to offer while keeping the other hand below.
Something about an Angel that seems to come after four angels. Something about him having a connection to Wisdom and the Tree of Life.
Something about the portal that looks similar to the light that Aziraphale called down with “let there be light” and it being used to discoporate demons and angels
Something about him sweeping into the bookshop and sending the remaining angels away only to beeline it to Aziraphale.
Something about an Angel who is connected to the Book of Life - that keeps a record of all good deeds and transgressions in Heaven and on Earth
Something about an Angel whose primary goal is to bring about the Second Coming, or Heaven on Earth. From his point of view would be a perfect social order.
an Angel that is supposed to be on the side of good, and is probably in charge of all the “good” rhetoric and in charge, or responsible for how Heaven is set up but that’s a whole other thing, but really his motivations and actions (from what we can see as an audience) prove to be the opposite
(it’s giving “The Greater Good”, my lord the dumbledore flashbacks)
Can you see my point? It’s just a few parallels I noticed and this series is pretty much just about exploration
Look I know it’s a little out there - it’s on its own for a reason.
But tune in next time for some symbols, numbers, and tarot cards - or yknow what this post was actually supposed to to be - here in part 3
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your-littlesecret · 5 months ago
Text
so.
haven't done this in a loooooooooooong time
there's a whole ass outline of this fic but I don't think I'll ever sit my ass and write it so here is the beginning and ending of cursed piarles. vaguely inspired by 'guilt as sin?'
107 BC - Ancient Greece
Charles always remembers the beach first. The beach and the happiness.
There was sand under his feet and laughter bubbling out of his mouth, the ocean water was warm when it covered his feet from time to time.
At first, it’s just that one scene, that one memory: Charles is running on the beach, laughing and looking back to where Pierre is chasing him, the feeling of his hands on Charles’ almost bare skin when he finally catches him. They are happy there and Charles can almost touch that happiness, the ease they have with each other.
And then everything else comes crashing down when fragments of other memories show up in quick succession.
The emergency meeting, where Zeus had told them Pierre would need to marry another lesser God, the protests, the hurt in his face and his denial. He kept a tight hold of Charles’ hand at all times.
It was dark when Pierre appeared at his doorstep, only the clothes in his body and asking Charles to run with him. Charles felt both alive and terrified at the same moment – disobeying a greater god, running away from the fate imposed on Pierre, on them.
Pierre had slipped a necklace in Charles’ neck, had kissed the pendant and demanded Charles not to take it off, ever. “This way they won’t be able to find us.”
He had taken Charles into the abandoned temple and made him feel worshiped like a God should be in such places.
And then he did that every night after, for the next three months. The days were spent either on the beach, skin going red and golden under the sun, or in the forest, picking small fruits and whatever they could find to eat.
It had been 3 months in their small paradise until she showed up, dressed in her sharp white tunic, the face of beauty that carried anger and despair this time. Charles trembled at her sight, and Pierre turned to look what could have caused that.
He looked back at Charles with desperation etched in each small crevice of his face, eyes apologetic and a ‘i love you’ being desperately pressed against the skin of Charles’ face.
Aphrodite is not merciful. She might be the goddess of love, but she uses that and her immaculate appearance to her advantage – no one would expect the viciousness and the harsh punishments that hide behind a sweet voice and kind smiles.
This… Charles can’t even begin to formulate a good enough punishment for what they have done. All this time he knew, deep down, that their time was limited, but he never thought it would be so much.
3 months was all they had, but whatever happens, Charles will always cherish the time they got to be together.
At first, she was silent – if this was anyone else, they would’ve started to beg, to profess their undying devotion just to get a lesser punishment. But Charles has come to terms with his fate.
And fate is, ironically, her own reasoning for the curse – they can’t deceive fate just because it isn’t working alongside their wishes.
Charles can see, though, deep in her eyes – a hint of pride, of astonishment, and Charles knows why.
Love.
Whatever they did, it was purely in the name of their love, and that she can respect – it is her specialty, after all, and she would be damned before she would let it slip unnoticed. Charles thinks she might have asked for this, to be the one to come to them.
Maybe she knew Charles would understand what it meant.
It had been bright and sunny before, but as Aphrodite spoke, the sudden darkness enveloped them slowly.
--------
Charles is just so tired he wonders if it’s worth it – any of this, a thousand lives lived only to die once more, in the arms of his love.
Not Pierre. He knows Pierre is worth it, he has died a thousand times to meet him again, and he would do a thousand more just to feel his hands on his one more time, his soft lips trailing paths on his skin one more time.
Charles had cried countless times, had tried it all to break the curse. Aphrodite’s words still rang in his ears now, even if it’s been milenia since he last saw her on that deserted beach, even as the water level increases and the boat sinks ever so lazily.
It was a desperate attempt, Pierre had pressed a kiss to the place he does every lifetime – the crease of his thigh, right on top of that birthmark that vaguely resembles a heart – and had whispered into Charles’ skin everything Charles had been feeling too.
“I am so tired, so empty. There is only one thing I am always certain of, one single feeling that fills my whole being and keeps me from ending every life earlier on my own terms. I love you, Chares, I adore you and I would live an endless life if I could worship you as you deserve for all of it.
But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep living when the only certainty I have is that I’ll see you die in my arms, over and over and over.”
Pierre had been sobbing by then, face pressed against the warmth of Charles’ skin and there was nothing he could do besides run a hand through his hair and hug him closer.
“I wish we could end this. I would do anything to stop this, for our essences to find peace together. I would give up not being able to touch you again if it meant you found peace.”
Charles hadn’t told Pierre just yet how he managed to regain his powers in this life, he was waiting for the right time to do so.
Except the right time was right then, when Charles used the strength within himself to open a crack in the yacht’s hull and let nature do its job.
Pierre had been asleep by then, arms tightly secured around Charles.
“I will protect you with all that’s left of my being, I will die trying to find you peace.”
The first thing Charles sees when he opens his eyes is the sun, shining through the yacht’s little window.
The second thing Charles sees is Aphrodite.
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