#I wonder what Mercy meant by “not even me”...? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heesdreamer · 1 year

Text

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.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen #heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #jake x reader #sunghoon enhypen #jake drabbles #jake au #jake smut #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake sim #enhypen smut

3K notes · View notes

holdmytesseract · 6 months

Text

When a God Loves a Woman

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N (Pre-Relationship)

Summary: Loki and you get paired up on a mission, much to the god's dismay - but not because he doesn't like you, no... Quite the opposite. He's hopelessy in love with you. How is he supposed to get through this mission?

Warnings: Loki being a cute idiot in love, pining/bit of mutual pining, a few suggestive things, fluff, swear words, thirst? short mention of weapons? short mention of drugs, mentions of a w*nst - blink and you'll miss it

Word Count: 5,5k

a/n: This is a request from my wonderful friend @fictive-sl0th ! 🥰❤️ I hope you are going to like it - and everybody else, of course as well! 😁

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not," Loki stated; crossing his arms over his chest. Tony blinked in disbelief. "What does that mean 'No'? Are you kidding me, Laufeyson?" The god squinted his eyes at his 'team colleague'.

"You must be deaf - or stupid, metal man... Perhaps even both. No... I said no." Tony growled; was already annoyed. "Thin ice, Reindeer Games, thin ice." The billionaire took a few threatening steps closer. "Listen. I don't care what you want, princess. You are the one who needs to prove himself to Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D - and basically the whole world. So if you don't want to end up home and get send into a cell by daddy, you should cooperate now." Loki's jaw clenched; knowing that Tony was unfortunately right. "I'm calling the shots at this mission - which needs to be a success, and if I'm telling you to team up with Y/L/N, then you're going to fucking do it. Are we clear?"

The god was positively fuming with anger - and despair (which Tony didn't notice). "Yes," he hissed. If looks could kill...

It's not that Loki didn't want to team up with you. In fact, he wanted nothing more in his life - and exactly that was the problem. About a year had passed now since he'd been sentenced to prove himself worthy and make up for the chaos he had caused. He became an Avenger - no matter if he liked it or not. It was his only chance to escape the dungeons on Asgard.

It had been a bitter pill for the god to swallow; without a doubt.

Earning the team's trust wasn't easy. Everybody despised him; was suspicious - except you. From the first day he arrived at the Avengers compound, you tried your best to give him a warm welcome. You were nice, kind and sweet. At first, Loki didn't like this at all; thought it was just a fake show you put on. A little game you played or something. After all, why should you have mercy? Why would you accept him? It simply couldn't be.

So, Loki pushed you aside - several times; cold-shouldered you. But you stayed stubborn and continued to treat him friendly - like he deserved and didn't let yourself get shoved away by the god for long. It took a lot of time (and energy), but at some point Loki realised that your intentions were pure. You really meant it. He realised, that you gave him something what nobody else did... A second chance. And from then on, he let you in. Step by step, of course, and slow, but he did.

He talked more to you, spent more time with you, trained together with you - and at some point it came how it had to come... Loki fell in love. Hard. Something he wasn't willing to admit, of course. Norns, he'd rather die than admitting that he fell in love with a Midgardian woman. He also didn't want a single soul to get a whiff of this, so his mission was to keep it a secret - no matter what it took.

The problem was, that preserving this secret turned out to be more difficult than Loki thought. It wasn't easy for him to keep his cool around you; given the fact that he didn't feel this kind of love for ages. By Odin's beard, he felt like a lovestoned teenager! Therefore, he tried to avoid being too close to you - not always successfully, though...

"Good boy."

Tony's words brought Loki back down to earth; out of his head. He clenched his jaw. The anger flooding through his veins was back. Full force - but nevertheless, he tried to control his temper and keeping his mouth shut.

"Why don't you like to be in a team with Y/N anyway? I thought you two get along quite well - or did I misinterpret the situation? Do you have a problem with her?" Tony asked suspiciously. Loki blinked. "No, I-" Before he could say something he'd regret later, the warning bells in his head started to ring at a deafening volume; causing his brain to switch into defence mode immediately.

"I mean yes. Yes. I don't like her. She's annoying me."

The billionaire frowned; crossing his arms over his chest. "You're confusing me, Reindeer Games. No, then yes. Geez, you're worse than a diva. Do you have a problem now with Y/N, or not?" Loki was a hairsbreadth away from grabbing Tony by the lapels of his shirt and throwing him against the nearby wall of the conference room.

"Yes," the god hissed. "I can't stand her." To say those words hurt him deeply; his heart wincing in pain - but for Loki, there was no other way.

"Well..." For a moment, Tony's expression was understanding and almost soft - but then he shrugged his shoulders. "Your problem. The teams are set. I don't care. Make it work." With those words and another shrug, the billionaire turned on his heels, walked away, "See you tomorrow, princess." and left the room.

Loki's eyes followed him, before he squeezed them shut; shaking his head. A sigh left his lips. "How foolish..." He mumbled. "How foolish of me to think Stark would cooperate." Running a hand through his raven curls, he returned to his room. Tomorrow was going to be a hard day for him...

The next day arrived way too quickly - and Loki had slept way too less and spent the whole day thinking about that damn mission, causing him to be the first to stand by the Quinjet; waiting for his 'team mates'. It was an awkward situation. Usually, he was never the first - except today.

Tony arrived only ten minutes later; a shit eating grin spreading over his whole face as he saw Loki. "Well, well... Eager, are we, Reindeer Games?" Loki just rolled his eyes; certainly didn't have the nerves for the billionaire's stupid little games.

"Mind your own business, Stark."

Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Oooh and we're already in diva mode?" The god clenched his jaw; was about to say something not exactly nice to the billionaire, when a booming voice cut through the air. "Ahhh, brother!" It was Thor, of course.

The god walked over to Loki and Tony with a broad smile on his face. "Finally, the time has come! We're on a mission again together!" He said happily, giving Loki a harsh slap on the shoulder. Loki coughed, "Yes, brother, I am thrilled." and glared at Thor - who didn't even notice his younger sibling's discomfort.

"Ah! Don't fret, brother!" Loki rolled his eyes subtly; already questioning his life choices. But when he crossed his arms over his armour clad chest and slightly shook his head, the god's eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of somebody approaching the team. It was Natasha - and you. Loki's gaze immediately got stuck on you - against his will; eyes widening. "This is going to be..." Thor's words faded as Loki's mouth fell agape and suddenly the world seemed to turn in slow motion around him.

You walked casually beside the Widow; your Y/H/C untamed hair flying in the wind. Unlike Natasha, you wore a white and black body suit. Several pockets were attached to it. For comms, weapons and other gear. It was tactical and convenient, but also form-fitting and especially tight. It showed off your curves to perfection - and by the holy roots of Yggdrasil... You looked stunningly sexy. Not that Loki didn't see you before in your mission gear - but you had never worn something like that before.

"Norns, give me strength..." Loki whispered, before he was able to prevent it; attracting Thor's attention. "What did you just say, brother?" "Nothing!" Loki almost shouted in slight panic, before clearing his throat. Get a hold of yourself, Laufeyson!

"I mean... Nothing. I didn't say a word."

What the god didn't think of, was that his eyes were still locked on the beautiful woman only a few meters away from him - and Thor noticed; raised an suspicious eyebrow, as he followed Loki's gaze. "Um, brother, you're staring."

Fuck.

Loki's eyes widened even more; cheeks turning pink as he quickly pulled his gaze off you. "No, I'm not! You must be blind, brother! Or hallucinating!"

Thor wasn't stupid, though. He knew exactly what he saw - and Loki's reaction only proved his assumption to be right. The god said nothing, only smiled, before he went to greet his fellow team mates.

"Ah, greetings, Lady Romanoff and Lady Y/N!" Natasha gave him a smile and a nod. "Hey Thunderboy." You smiled and waved at him. "Hi Thor!" While the Black Widow went to join Tony already on the Quinjet, you walked up to the Asgardian princes - which caused Loki to get slightly nervous.

"Is that new a new armour I see on you, Lady Y/N?" You giggled; nodding. "It is. Nat told me to try something new and I needed anyway something more... functional, so... Do you like it?" You turned in a circle; showing off your new outfit - much to Loki's dismay. He felt his breath hitching in his throat; his chest seemingly growing tighter - just like the space within the front of his leather trousers.

By Odin's beard... How am I supposed to survive this mission?

"It suits you very well, Lady Y/N!" "Thanks, Thor." Then you turned to Loki. "How do you like it, Mischief?"

Like it? LIKE IT?! I love it. It makes me want to pin you against the wall of the Quinjet and ravish you right then and there.

"I agree with my brother."

"Thanks! Now, let's go, boys. I bet Tony's waiting already for us and we don't want to make our diva angry, do we?" You prompted; already entering the Quinjet - which caused the fabric of your suit to bend and stretch around certain body parts even more.

Shit...

You sat alone in a corner of the Quinjet; checking your weapons and mentally preparing yourself for the task ahead, since Tony had announced that you'd arrive soon. Then you heard steps approaching you. Familiar steps. You didn't even have to look up to check who it was. You knew.

"What's up, Nat?"

Your best friend sat down beside you. From the corner of your eye, you could see that she had already changed. A beautiful black, long-sleeved dress was hiding her catsuit underneath. She looked stunning - as always.

"He's into you."

You frowned immediately; were taken aback by the Widow's words. Nat was definitely not somebody who beat about the bush...

You looked up to face her; seeing her lips curled upwards in a smirk.

"W-What, I- Who?"

"Laufeyson." Natasha spoke out the god's name without even blinking; kind of shocking you.

"Whaaat?" You laughed; shaking your head. "No fucking way. I mean, yes, he probably likes my body - like the handsome naughty little shit he is, but that doesn't mean he likes me. Loki has a lot of women and men..." Natasha raised an accusing eyebrow. "Babes, no... Sorry to disappoint you, but Loki didn't have somebody in months."

You frowned. "How do you know that?" Your best friend shrugged her shoulders. "Bruce's apartment is across his and trust me, babe... I hear if he's giving somebody a really good time, 'cause fucking hell, he apparently does." You almost choked on your own spit by her words. "Nat! You cheeky minx!" Again you got just a shrug, accompanied by a grin.

"Okay, let's say you're right... That doesn't mean he's into me." The Russian beauty rolled her eyes. "Y/N... Sorry to say that, but... Are you blind? I don't mean what happened earlier. Sure, his eyes almost popped out of his head, seeing you like this - but that was just another proof." Now you were the one raising both your eyebrows.

"Another proof? What is that supposed to mean now?" Your best friend giggled; shaking her head. "You really didn't notice." "Notice what?" You asked almost desperately know. "The way he's looking at you? How his mood always seems to lift when you're in the room? He smiles - as soon as you're around him. The way he opens up to you? How kind he is to you?" You blinked; staring at your best friend.

"Uhhh, no? I, um, no..." "You should pay a bit more attention then," Nat said; winking. You were still a bit stunned and overwhelmed by those 'news'. That was never your intention. "I... I didn't mean to... I was just trying to be kind. I always knew there's more in Loki than just the bad guy everybody thinks he is. All I wanted was to give him what he deserves... A second chance and a way to proof everybody wrong."

The Widow smiled; placing a hand on your shoulder. "Well... It seems like you were successful in bringing out this other side of him. There is more. You were right about that. But it also seems like you tickled something else awake inside of him... Feelings." "Feelings?" "Feelings. That man is head over heels for you." You bit your lip. That wasn't what I wanted... "Are you sure?" Natasha stood up again, "To 100 per cent." and walked away with a smile; leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You sighed; leaning back against the wall. Your head hitting the metal with a soft thud. You couldn't help but to think about what Natasha said. He's into you. Perhaps it was true and your best friend right, but... What were you feeling? Was his love... requited?

You swallowed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes upon, with his long, raven curls, chiselled face and trained body. You loved his wit, how utterly charming he could be, how eloquent he was, how well-read, smart and his other-worldly humour. You liked to spent time with him and talk to him. You'd even go as far and say you were some kind of friends, but love? Not yet.

But when you closed your eyes and thought of Loki, you could easily picture a future with him as a couple - and who knew... Perhaps it was going to happen.

Okay, maybe you had a tiny crush on him.

"Alright. Everybody knows what to do. Let's get those documents, so we can finally make sure that this asshole gets behind bars," Tony spoke and everyone nodded.

The mission was... Well, you wouldn't exactly say easy, but with a good team perfectly manageable. The Avengers got the assignment to help the police to get one of the biggest drug dealers of America - and literally the whole world finally behind bars. Bernardi had always managed to slip the F.B.I through their fingers the past years. Now it had to end - and it was going to.

Today was a big gala in New Haven, Connecticut - the best chance to get Bernardi. But to finally convict him, important documents of the next big drug deal were needed - and they laid safely in a safe in his security monitored and secured suite in the big building, where also the gala took place.

The plan? Tony was going to hack the security camera systems, to make you and Loki - who were going to sneak through the ventilation shafts of the building and actually 'steal' the documents. Nat was going to attend the gala with Thor as her backup and caused distraction - if needed. This time, it was no 'going like a bull at a gate' task. It was no big fight or war. It was some kind of movie like spy mission - and you were hyped.

You didn't understand first, why Tony hadn't sent you and Nat to get the documents, but then you realised that Loki and Thor probably weren't the best duo to attend the gala together. Their cover would probably blow up faster than Tony's patience...

"Y/N, are you coming?" The soft, low timbre of Loki urged to your ears; causing you to blink and snap out of your thoughts. "On my way." You checked if you had everything you needed, then joined your team mate. "Ready, partner?" Loki smiled; gesturing for you to walk down the ramp of the Quinjet. "Lead the way, milady."

Tony had given you the exact positions, coordinates and maps. Loki 'was just your helper' - like the billionaire put it and 'had to follow your orders'.

You sneaked around the big building at the dead of night; looking for the exit of the ventilation shafts. You were quick to find the exact one Tony told you to find and quietly removed the grid, while Loki's eyes scanned the area for any 'intruders'.

"Let's go." You grabbed Loki's attention with your words; nodding towards the ventilation shaft. Just when you were about to climb inside, Loki stopped you. "Y/N, wait! I, uh, I think I should go first." You turned to face him; looking a bit confused. "Why? That wouldn't make sense, Mischief. I have the maps. I know where to go. That's why I..." You climbed inside the ventilation shaft. "... go first. Now come!" Unbeknownst to you, squeezed Loki his eyes shut; face scrunching. "Loki!" "Coming!"

He sighed, then followed you. It was dark inside, of course, but you had your torch and Loki, well, his seidr. Nevertheless, the light source in addition with his position gave Loki the perfect view of your ass; sending shivers down the god's spine. Exactly what he wanted to prevent. Sure, he enjoyed the view, but it was also torturous. You were close and yet so far. "Norns... Can this evening get any worse?" He mumbled underneath his breath, while crawling behind you. "What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing!"

After crawling through the tight, dark space and crossing endless corners for what felt like eternity, you finally announced that you and Loki had reached the destination - the tenth floor of the building.

"Oh!" You abruptly stopped; causing Loki to almost bump head first in your bottom - head first. "What?" "I think we made it. According to Tony's plans, this must be the exit we have to take. The tenth floor." "Let us do that then. My knees hurt." You giggled; working on getting the hatchway open. "Not used to kneel a lot, are we?" "Sounds like you are." Loki answered dryly, without even blinking - and your jaw almost dropped. A blush creeping up your cheeks. He just couldn't help himself. You had given him the perfect opportunity.

"No! I-I mean... I do a lot of work on missions which affords... Kneeling and crawling." The god nodded, but gave you a cheeky smile. "Sure, Y/N. I do kneel from time to time, too."

Gods... You felt the heat in your cheeks increasing, so you busied yourself even more with the hatchway - and to your sheer relief it clicked open mere seconds later. Carefully, you peeked out; head first, looking for any signs of security guards. "Not a single soul to be seen. The coast is clear." You sat up; ready to jump, when your partner stopped you for the second time. "Allow me to go first this time." "Alright." Loki jumped and you followed; the hatchway falling close behind you.

The hallway you had landed in was big with white, clean walls and a black tiled floor. It reminded you of a hotel, but also didn't look like such at all.

"Where to now, milady?" Loki whispered; just in case. "We have to find Bernardi's room," you answered in a hushed voice; pointing down the hallway. "This way." The god nodded; following close behind. So, you sneaked down the hallways; crossing each corner carefully. Another look on the map told you that you weren't far from your destination, when you suddenly heard voices - and they came from behind you.

"Securityguards!" You whisper-yelled at Loki, who looked surprisingly just as panicky as you did. Well, after all you were in a hallway... Not exactly many opportunities to hide there. Loki was about to just teleport you somewhere else, but before he could make use of his magic, you had reacted faster and literally shoved him inside a little broom closet you had spotted mere seconds ago. With one hand clasped over his mouth, the other gripping the lapels of his leather coat tightly and your back stemmed against the door, you hid away from the nearing threat. It caught Loki completely off-guard of course, but he found himself once more enjoying the situation. Your touch. The roughness of it. He liked it.

Once you were sure he wouldn't make a single sound, you let go of him. "Sorry. I just had to make sure that-" "I know," he interrupted you, nodding. You nodded back at him; staying quiet. You had to wait until the security men passed. Unfortunately, though, the broom closet was everything but spacious. Quite the opposite... tiny. And with cleaning supplies all around the two of you, it was a really tight fit. So tight, that body contact was inevitable. Your chest almost touched his. You were so close, you could feel his minty breath on your face. Loki's chiselled bone structure looked even more handsome from this point of view - and dear god, had he always smelled that good? Like a mix out of leather, blood oranges and charred wood? You couldn't explain why, but it smelt so comfortable to you. So rich and musky, yet sweet.

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Focus, Y/N, focus.

Unbeknownst to you, Loki had the exact same problem; struggling even harder. His hands almost trembled from holding back from touching you. He would've loved to just kiss you right here and now; your scent intoxicating him. But he couldn't, and he knew that.

"I think we're good to go," you breathed out then; slowly lurking through the crack of the door. "Come."

Loki had noticed the slight tremble in your voice - and it sparked something inside him... Hope. Perhaps he had a chance to win your heart. A chance he never thought he had. And maybe, just maybe he shouldn't see this mission as a burden, but as the first shot he could shoot.

Loki knew that women liked to be wooed. So, he decided to try to impress you. After all, he had conquered already a lot of hearts. He knew how it worked. But you... You were different. You had conquered his heart first - and you didn't even know it.

Wordlessly, the god followed you, until you had reached Bernardi's room. A complicated lock adorned the door. Easy access? No chance. "Alright," you stated; switching on your communication device. "Tony. We're standing in front of the room. Pick the lock." The billionaire answered immediately. "Consider it done, Y/N." "Perfect."

Tony's 'consider it done' took longer than you anticipated... Almost fifteen minutes had ticked by and the electric lock still hadn't moved an inch.

"Hey Tony, what's taking so long?" "It's more complicated than I thought. Give me another minute."

And even another minute wasn't enough. So slowly, Loki grew impatient. After all was the risk very high of getting caught by security guards any momenr. Rolling his eyes, he stepped over to the door and placed his hand on the lock. "Loki? What are you doing?" You asked, eyes widening. "Unlocking this damn lock." You blinked. "And, uh, how?" The god gave you a smirk; "Seidr, darling." winking.

Not even a second after he said that, a green cloud enveloped the lock - and it clicked open. Your jaw dropped. "Woah... That's... That's pretty cool."

Step one of impressing Y/N: Done.

"Tony, we got it." "Yes, I can see that... How?!" You smiled; following Loki inside the room. "Mischief." You could practically hear how Tony rolled his eyes at your answer.

After tiptoeing through the big, spacious room and 'stealing' the documents like professionals; you and your partner left again, as if nothing happened. Loki even managed to fix the lock with his magic.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" You nodded; checking your watch. "We should, yes. The 10 o'clock patrol will pass this hallway in exact... ten minutes. Either we hurry, or tell Thor and Nat to distract them." "I know I have no say in this mission, but I would recommend option two, Y/N. Better safe than- uh... How's this Midgardian saying going again?" You giggled - music to Loki's ears. "Better be safe than sorry." "That's it, yes. Thank you." "I guess you're right... Nat, can you hear me?" "Loud and clear, babes." "Perfect. Can you and Thor distract the 10 o'clock patrol up here? We won't make it in time." "Sure thing!"

Well, unfortunately, it turned out they couldn't...

Just as the two of you rounded the corner into the hallway of the ventilation shaft, rounded a group of five security guards the other corner. You and Loki stopped immediately in your track; standing like frozen to the ground. "Well... Now we have a problem." The guards noticed you, of course, immediately. One of them gave you an angry look. "Indeed we have," the bulky man snarled; switching on his walkie-talkie. "We have intruders on the tenth floor. Most likely burglars; calling for back-up." "Understood, Sir. Back-up is on the way."

Now you were really fucked.

You sighed; cracking your neck and prepared to fight. "Guess we'll have to-" That was the moment Loki had waited for. The ultimate chance to impress you. His hand on your arm interrupted you; pulling you gently behind himself. "Stay behind me, darling. I am going to take care of this little... issue." Loki stepped slowly forwards - like a wolf stalking its prey; read to fight, when suddenly something caught his attention... A small loudspeaker box hanging high up in the corner where both hallways met.

Smiling mischievously; he snapped his fingers. Let's put on a little show for the lady.

The security guards didn't know what was coming their way. Especially not as 'Holding Out for a Hero' by Bonnie Tyler started to echo through the empty hallways. And before any of them could react, Loki had already started his attack. Unlucky for the men, they were just as surprised and kind of shocked how you were. The god moved gracefully; dodging here a kick and there a punch. The security guards didn't stand a single chance. Not even the back-up - and by the end of the song, Loki had knocked out every single man who had stood in his way.

You just stood there; mouth agape and not quite knowing what to do or think. Loki though, had a victorious, smug and self-confident smirk on his face. Running a hand smoothly through his black curls, he leaned casually against the wall. "There we go. They won't bother us anymore."

Loki didn't quite know what he anticipated of your reaction. A nervous smile perhaps. Reddened cheeks or a impressed facial expression - but he certainly didn't anticipated what came his way... "Umm... Thank you? But I could've taken care of them as well. I know, uh, how to fight."

The god had a hard time hiding the shock on his face. And the embarrassment, which followed only a few seconds later. She didn't like it. She thinks I'm stupid. I made a fool out of myself. He face-palmed himself internally.

Swallowing nervously and clearing his throat, Loki stepped away from the wall again; trying to somehow 'save' this situation. "Sure, I... I know that, of course, Y/N. I just... wanted to be... nice." "Well, I appreciate it. Thanks." Before an awkward silence could settle between you and him; the god cleared his throat once more. "We, um, we should leave." You nodded, "We should, yes." and watched him turn on his heels; quickly walking away.

Therefore, Loki couldn't see how a dazzling smile spread across your face. Whatever it was what he just did - or tried to do... It was very sweet of him.

The rest of the mission went smoothly. You and Loki made it safely and uncaught out of the building.

When you reached the Quinjet, Natasha stood on the ramp, already changed in her black bodysuit; grinning. She said not a single word as you and Loki passed her by, just kept grinning. You gave your best friend a confused look; mouthing: "What?" All she did was winking, before she followed you as the ramp closed shut behind the three of you.

After you had handed Tony the documents and the Quinjet was in the air again; heading towards New York, you decided to seek out the Widow.

"What was that grinning about, huh?" You gently poked her side to get your best friend's attention. She turned to face you; smiling again. "Oh, nothing. Just Loki fighting off thirty guys alone," Nat said with a wink. "And this got you smiling, because...?" You looked expectantly at her, not quite getting what she was insisting.

"Gods, Y/N/N... You truly are blind," Nat stated; shaking her head and crossed her arms over her chest, before she walked towards the metallic door. "He did that in order to impress and most likely to protect you. That man is in love with you. Open up your eyes, babes."

The Quinjet landed quite late at night on the compound. Only a few lights were on; signalling that most of the other Avengers were already asleep.

"Alright, guys. See tomorrow," you bid your goodbye to your fellow teammates. After hugging Natasha, you turned to Loki. "Good night, Mischief." The god gave you a soft smile. "Good night." Then you turned and walked away; following Nat and Tony.

While Loki couldn't help himself, but to stare after you with mixed feelings about the last few hours coiling within his stomach, Thor came to stand beside him.

"You are staring again, brother." He stated simply; smiling. "I'm not-" Loki wanted to immediately reject Thor, but the God of Thunder spoke faster. "Do not try to deny it, Loki. I saw everything. You tried to impress Lady Y/N with fighting off those men." Loki's eyes widened at Thor's words - proofing the god to be right. "You... saw that?" "Yes, brother. We all did."

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. The cameras.

He couldn't control his body longer; a blush creeping up his cheeks. Thor laughed heartily; clapping him on the shoulder. "No need to be ashamed, brother. I am truly happy you found love - and Lady Y/N is a great woman, if I might say so."

Loki grumbled, but knew very well that he had lost this game. "I don't think Y/N feels the same, brother. I made a fool out of myself. I will never win her heart."

Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulder, shaking his head. "No, you did not make a fool out of yourself. I tried to impress Jane a lot of times and failed." "Yes, because you're an oafish ape. I'm not," Loki mumbled under his breath; inaudible for Thor. "Don't you give up. One day, Lady Y/N will be yours."

After the kind of awkward conversation with his brother, Loki headed straight to his little apartment in the tower. He considered to go to bed straight away, in order to escape the hold you had on him, but he also was aware that his mind wouldn't switch itself off so easily. So, instead to forget you, he decided to fully indulge in his thoughts, heartache and fantasies, and took a very long shower; whimpering your name over and over again in his throes of pleasure at the imagination of you in that damn body suit.

Now the god was standing naked in front of the sink; staring at himself in the mirror. His damp raven curls falling loosely over his shoulders; pecs still glistening with water, causing a few single water droplets to drip from his chest hair.

Loki took a deep breath; shaking his head. "I'm fool... I'm such a fool..." With one simple snap of his fingers, he was perfectly dry. He sighed. "... and hopelessly in love."

After slipping into a fresh pair of boxershorts, he went to bed; laying awake for seconds. Minutes. Hours? Just like he anticipated. The god stared at the dark ceiling above him, arms crossed behind his neck; thinking. Until suddenly his mobile vibrated for a second; announcing that he just received a message. Frowning, Loki turned to reach for his phone on the bedside table and unlocked it - only for his eyes to widen. You... It was a message from you. Quickly, he entered the chat to read it.

Hey, Mischief. Just wanted to say thank you again for fighting off the bad guys. Very cute. Thanks.

Loki's whole face lit up. Cute? He was smiling so bright, like he had probably never did in his life before. She thinks I'm cute? His heart skipped a joyful beat.

Perhaps was his brother right... Perhaps hope wasn't lost yet and one day... One day you will be his.

#the baby fever au #pre relationship #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

845 notes · View notes

rainba · 14 days

Text

What's Rightfully Mine (Yan. Kairos! x GN! Reader)

A/N: OOuuuhh... I've read over this a billion times and I figure I may as well go ahead and upload it. ^^;;;;;;;;;;;; Matching artwork with the story...! Woohoo! (*´▽`*)

TWs: very graphic depictions of violence, disturbing yandere behaviors, mild gore, kidnapping, 18+ content....... Kairos being Kairos. Slight mention of virginity (but it's just Kairos' virginity) MDNI.

Wordcount: 2300~

((And thank you @x-v0id-x for reading over the fic for me before I posted it!!! ☆:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:☆ ))

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kairos never meant for this to happen.

He swears up and down that he never wanted to do it– he promises that he never intended to hurt anybody.

But he did anyway.

However… Can you blame him–?

You are Kairos’ one and only, his soulmate, his beloved, the reason he breathes, the reason he wakes up every morning, the reason why he’s still alive– you’re his everything! Was he supposed to just let you run off into the arms of another man without even attempting to fight back...?!

The way you looked at that filth– that disgusting, foul, no-good other man… It made Kairos sick to his stomach.

What even was that guy’s name...?

(####)? (######)? (######).

Yes, that’s his name, Kairos is sure of it.

It repeats itself in Kairos’ mind over and over again, piercing his skull like a blade that twists and twists until he’s left screaming for mercy at the top of his lungs.

“G-get out of my head! Get out! Get out get out get out! Leave me alone!”

Countless nights end in him violently waking up from the same nightmare– a nightmare where you and (######) run off together while he helplessly watches. And in the nightmare, you smile so brightly, but you’re only smiling at that bastard. It’s like Kairos is invisible as he desperately crawls towards you. He’s sobbing and begging for you not to leave him, but it’s as if you can’t hear him.

However, (######) can.

(######) spits on him, jeers at him, then laughs as he carries you far, far away.

In Kairos’ nightmares, the other man stomps on his neck as he spits out callous remarks.

“Nobody could ever love you.” He sneers.

“You’re nothing but a disgusting freak.”

Kairos knows he’s heard these things before– but he can’t remember who once told him that.

He feels so powerless when imagines you with (######) as he sleeps, and he can’t stop himself from thinking about it when he’s awake– it’s a never-ending tragedy that haunts every second of every day. The bags under his eyes have grown horrifyingly darker. Kairos had to make this stop.

He was desperate.

Kairos didn’t have a choice as he broke into that man’s house, sneaking in through the first-floor window and trudging down the darkened halls.

Kairos didn’t have a choice as he crept into the shadowy bedroom with a silver blade placed firmly in his hands, his back pocket harboring a rag soaked in chloroform.

The two of you were sleeping together so peacefully– you and that disgusting bastard.

That man looked so carefree; his chest rising and falling at a perfectly even pace. His arms were wrapped so warmly around you, holding you close in a tender embrace. The blankets covered your lower halves, and the man’s face was buried in the back of your neck.

The scene was so peaceful. Way too peaceful…

With tear-stricken eyes, Kairos couldn’t help but wonder: “why can’t that be me?”

Why does this man get to live a happy and carefree life, but not him? Why does this man get to hold you tightly in his arms, and not him? Why… Why…

Why does Kairos never get what he wants?

This feeling– this god awful feeling that Kairos is constantly haunted by: envy.

Envy… The one emotion he’s all-too familiar with. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore– for once in his life, he wants to have something, and not just yearn for it.

In this moment, he knows that the only way to obtain happiness…

Is simply to take it by force.

Kairos had to be fast– because if the man woke up before he could stun him, then he’d be quickly overpowered.

Before he focused on taking him out, Kairos tiptoed over to your side, his gaze softening for just a moment. He pulled out the rag from his back pocket and placed it gently under your nose, covering all your airways. He knew he had to wait a few minutes– he had to make sure that you won’t wake up any time soon. So, while he stood there, he lovingly petted your hair and left little kisses on your forehead. When he was certain that the chloroform settled in, his heart started to tighten in his chest.

Adrenaline struck him like lightning as he snuck around the side of the bed, his purple eyes locked in on his target. For the first time in his life, Kairos was no longer the victim.

Nervous sweat dribbled down the sides of his face as he held the blade up high, positioning the pointed end towards the man’s exposed throat. Kairos could have turned back– he could have easily put the knife away and let you both go free. But he loved you too badly. He needed you too badly.

This was it.

He jabbed the knife deep into the man’s neck, hoping that would prevent any screams.

And it worked.

(######) jolted awake in horror as his mind raced to figure out what was happening. He threw his hands onto the wound and tried so desperately to stop the bleeding, but it was futile. It was so, so futile. Gurgled sounds bounced off the walls as a bloody rampage ensued right beside you.

Seeing the red gushing out flipped a switch in Kairos’ mind. He doesn’t know why he lost control– he doesn’t know how it happened– but it did.

Kairos’ vision went black as he fully jumped on top of the bed, plunging the knife into (######)’s body over and over and over again.

Slash, slash, slash.

A horrifying symphony: the sound of flesh being sliced apart.

The man’s muffled cries were like music to Kairos’ ears.

He choked and he gagged, whimpered and wailed, but coherent words of pleas were unable to escape his mouth. Every time he tried to kick Kairos off, Kairos would stab him in his legs. Every time the man tried to push him off, Kairos would slash the palm of his hands. Kairos thought for sure that he’d be overpowered, but the adrenaline in his veins gave him strength that he never knew he had.

And there was blood.

Blood everywhere.

“M-mine, mine, mine… They’re mine...!” Kairos mumbled manically under his breath, his focus flipping back and forth between you and his victim. But– it wasn’t just Kairos that looked over at you. Your partner did as well.

His shimmering eyes stared at you longingly– so lovingly... Too lovingly.

It made Kairos’ blood boil.

Through gritted teeth, he spat out, “n-no, you don’t get to look at them...! Don’t look at them ever again!”

Then… Slash.

The silver knife plunged deep into his eyes– thick blood spewing out from the wound.

Kairos can barely remember what happened after that. All he knew was that, eventually, the man ceased to struggle.

His black hoodie was now soaked in blood- his quivering hands completely red. It dripped from his cheeks and onto the corpse beneath him– the entire world was spinning dizzyingly fast.

(######)’s body was painted in deep lacerations, and his face was disfigured to the point of him being unrecognizable. Something about it was so… So…

Exciting.

It was done now. It was over.

There was nobody in this world who could take you away from him.

And the thought of that made him smile.

Kairos laughed– he laughed so joyously, laughed so carefree.

Kairos’ mind was an incoherent mess. A horrible, horrible mess.

And he doesn’t know why it happened– he doesn’t know how it happened– in one moment, he was attacking that man, but in the next…

“M-mine… Mine… You’re f-finally mine!”

His pale hands were shaking as they savagely tore away your thin clothing. Kairos pushed your ex-lover’s corpse onto the floor as he kissed your lips with the intensity of a starved animal.

Your lips were so much softer than he imagined– so much sweeter, too. He couldn’t contain his excitement anymore– after all, this night marks the beginnings of a new and wonderful life!!

And now, he also just gave you his first kiss!

The silver light of the moon was glowing on his face, illuminating the dark red blood that stained his skin. He was a monster– a selfish freak that craved your love more than anything else.

There really was no rhyme or reason to anything Kairos was doing. At that moment, he just wanted to feel good; he needed to feel your warmth.

In one second, he was desperately humping your leg while holding your hips in place. In the next, he was kissing your stomach and fervently licking your chest. He knows that you can’t feel it, but that’s beside the point– he uses this time as practice, so that when you are awake, you’ll be feeling nothing but bliss! And besides… You just taste so good; he can’t help himself.

Kairos kisses and bites at your neck and collarbone, leaving behind a faint trail of needy marks. Without thinking, he pulls out his cock and begins to jerk himself off. He parts his mouth and rambles to himself.

“I’ll… I’ll m-make sure nobody finds you! Nobody!”

Kairos sticks out his tongue and licks over your left nipple; he does it a few more times before fully sucking on it. The lewd act sends a shiver down his spine.

It’s so hot, so naughty, and ultimately entirely new to him. He’s never been so turned on before.

“W-we’ll live happily together, alone in my apartment! And you’ll be s-so happy!”

He speaks as if you can hear him– and deep down, he almost wishes that you could. Kairos crawls up further onto the bed and digs his knees into your shoulders, the shadow of his cock looming over your perfect face. It’s so close to you– so, so close– god, he still wishes you were awake right now. But he knows you’d fight him off if you knew what was going on.

“I’ll f-feed you every day, and– And I’ll learn how to cook for you! I– I can watch videos online… I promise I’ll learn… J-just for you!”

He strokes himself even faster, soft wet sounds echoing off the bloodied walls. Kairos lifts the chloroform rag away from your mouth but keeps it over your nose. He presses his tip against your lips as he keeps going, his precum slowly dribbling down your chin.

“W-we can make love every single night...! I’ll… I’ll make you feel so, so good… I…” A shiver runs up and down his spine as a whiney moan escapes him.

“M-my virginity… It’s… It’s all yours...! Ahh…”

His eyes squeeze shut as a hot sting of pleasure surges through him.

“D-doesn’t that sound wonderful!? I’m all yours, my love!”

Kairos pushes his cock a little closer to your lips– but he does it a bit too aggressively, the tip of it scraping against your teeth. God, he would give anything for you to suck on it– even if only for a fraction of a second.

“Th-then we can have a family one day!! I’ll– I’ll get my job going, I… I’ll m-make more money! Lots of money! W-we can adopt… We can…”

With his one free hand, Kairos reaches down and begins to stroke your hair, leaving blood stains all throughout it.

“J-just us two, only u-us two… Nobody… Else!”

The pace of his hand quickens as his head starts to tilt backwards, his breathing growing out of control. His chest heaves as he erratically chases his high, yearning so badly to feel it hit him all at once.

He can’t help but imagine how wonderful the future will be– your all's future together. Then he imagines the way you’ll be all tied up in his bed, completely naked and vulnerable for him…

Just like you are now.

“F-fuck..!”

It’s all too much– Kairos’ cock twitches as he cums all over your face, some of it pouring into your mouth and on your cheeks. He squeezes as much of it out as he possibly can, craving to see you drenched in it. Throughout it all, you still sleep so peacefully… All thanks to the chloroform.

He can’t help but think that you look so cute when you’re knocked out and covered in his cum.

Ah… if only he could draw you in this state.

Even though he so badly wants to collapse by your side and cuddle you, he knows that he has to move. There is quite literally a dead body in the room and blood on his hands– he has to clean up.

And he also has to find a way to sneak your body to his broken-down car outside.

Very reluctantly, he kisses you on your forehead, smiling sweetly. “I’ll… I’ll be back, my love!”

After a while of stumbling, he finds himself entering the bathroom.

When he looks in the mirror, his eyes widen partially in horror. Kairos knew this side of himself existed deep within him… He knew there was a disgusting monster that laid dormant in his chest, but he had never before seen it come out so fiercely.

His pupils were small, his purple eyes hauntingly beautiful. And on top of that, he was grinning.

It was the first time he had genuinely smiled in weeks– maybe even months.

Kairos turned on the sink to wash off his face, but he only seemed to be making more of a mess. Blood streamed down the sides of the sink and pooled in the drain. Despite how macabre it all was, he just couldn’t stop smiling– because now he has everything he could ever want: you.

All to himself… Forever.

Until death do you part.

#teehee #silly kairos moment #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere male #yandere fic #male yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere x darling

352 notes · View notes

loveandmurders · 2 years

Note

Hi I like to look at your page and I was kinda wondering if you do the slashers reacting to their victims hurting their s/o like they are are looking for them and they see their s/o on one knee in the ground and blood while the victim is standing there (Poly! Ghostface Stu & Billy, Thomas, Michael daddy Myers, Vincent, ChromeSkull)

Here’s apple juice and a bagel w/ cream cheese 🧃🥯

Hello there, thank you for the request and food :) <3 It was really nice to try to write for several slashers for one request tbh! I never wrote for Ghostface or Chromeskull before so I hope it is okay. Actually, it made me start a poly!Ghostface AU series and I’ll post it soon I think. Oh and I added Bo to your request because I feel he would have been sad to be excluded! Hope you’ll enjoy!! <3

Gender neutral reader and no physical description.

Warnings: Blood, mention of killing, violence, reader is hurt.

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

You weren’t yourself Ghostface, but the victim had high suspicion against you because no matter where you were, Ghostface never seemed to attack you.

You had no idea that Ghostface was Stu and Billy, but you had to admit you had noticed that somehow you seemed off limits.

(Once Ghostface even waved at you from far away before leaving to kill someone else, but you never talked about it to anyone)

So the victim attacked you, and you were bleeding on the ground.

They were ready to hurt you even more, in order to make you talk but one of the Ghostfaces would show up just in time after having heard noises of a fight.

It would be Billy behind the mask, and he would be really not happy about this.

He wouldn’t even bother to talk to the victim, or toy with them (even though it was his favourite hobby).

He would just attack them and protect you right away, too possessive to let anyone hurt you without consequences.

Stu would arrive soon after, wondering what Billy was doing, because he was suddenly not following the plan.

And then he would see you, on the ground.

The sweet boy would worry instantly and he would grab you and help you back on your feet so you could both leave.

Despite the pain, you would notice how Stu didn’t seem to care about Ghostface, or didn’t seem to have any will to help the victim.

He would settle you upstairs, in a bed and he would look after you and fuss over you.

Soon after, Ghostface would find you, and remove his mask, revealing Billy, who would join you on the bed to make sure you were fine. He would also calm down Stu.

You would be shocked to understand who your boyfriends were.

Billy would sweet talk to you and kiss you to make you forget about it, and Stu would do anything to cheer you up and make you admit you still loved them.

And of course you did.

After that, they would keep you away from their crime scenes at all cost so it wouldn’t seem too obvious that Ghostface was in love with you.

Thomas Hewitt

You were helping to prepare dinner in the kitchen, when a victim attacked you from behind.

They had stabbed you, forcing you to fall on your knees in front of them, your hands on your wound, as you were heavily bleeding on the ground.

Thomas would arrive just in time before the victim could kill you.

And no need to say the man would go feral and insane, unable to stand the sight of you like that.

He would instantly turn on his chainsaw and jump on the victim with all his strength and speed, like a cannonball aiming to violently kill.

The victim would have no chance of survival at all, because Thomas believed he was born to serve his family and protect the people he loved.

And he loved you more than anything else in his whole existence. And this person dared hurt you, which meant no mercy.

His bloodlust rage would only quieten down when he would see you falling on the ground, passing out from the pain and the blood loss, softly whispering his name for him to help you.

It would only then he would stop cutting the already dead body in pieces to check you up, turning off his chainsaw and letting it fall on the ground without any care.

Afterward, once the rage would be gone, he would be so panicked.

He would scoop you up and place you on the couch before looking for his Mama so she could patch you up or tell him what to do.

The man would also beat himself up for having let that happen to you and then he would act like your guard dog, making sure no one could hurt you again by keeping you by his side or asking you to lock yourself in your shared bedroom.

He would be paranoid and even more overprotective after that.

He would have nightmares about losing you and he would bring you closer to his chest in the night, making sure you were all safe and sound. No that you minded the attention at all.

Michael Myers (RZ)

Michael hadn’t thought one of the victims could escape him and find you watching TV in the living room.

And no need to say, he had never thought you would get hurt, no matter how many times you told him you didn’t like when he was bringing victims inside the house to play.

When he would see you, laying on the ground, hurt and unconscious, it would definitely break the remains of sanity he had inside of him.

His fist would tighten around his knife and before the victim could run away, Michael would grab them and pin them on the wall before stabbing them over and over again in the stomach.

If Thomas was full of rage, Michael was also the kind of slasher to not be able to stop himself. But unlike Thomas, it would be a very cold rage.

He wouldn’t express any emotions behind the mask, or he wouldn’t say anything or even groan in anger.

He would simply stab the victim until he would feel better about the situation, and then he would plunge his knife deep enough into the body for it to stay pinned on the wall.

His attention would then get to you, and he wouldn’t know what to do at first.

He would be afraid to hurt you, but at the same time he couldn’t stand to see you on the ground, so he would eventually carry you to your shared bedroom, undress you and take care of you.

Because he had lived a great part of his life in an asylum, he knew how to take care of wounds and it worked in your favour.

He would never bring any more victims back home, and he would actually never let anyone in.

If someone was getting too close to his property, he would get out and kill them right away.

Killing to keep you safe was his new love language and you could only appreciate it because you had never been so safe in your whole life.

Vincent Sinclair

He had asked you to stay in the basement, where he thought you would be safe.

But of course, one of the victims had found the secret gateway leading the House of Wax to his place.

And when the tourist saw you there, minding your own business with a book in one hand, they had guessed you weren’t another victim.

They wanted to hurt you, like the masked twin had hurt their own people so they didn’t hesitate to jump on you and to beat you.

When Vincent would arrive, panicked after he had realised one victim was missing, you would be on your knees, trying to get up to fight back.

But your head would be throbbing and you wouldn’t be sure you wouldn’t fall if you went back on your feet.

Vincent would know better than panicking or going insane.

Like Michael, cold and silent rage would rise inside of him like a wave ready to destroy everything.

But unlike Michael, rage wasn’t equaling chaos to him.

Vincent was an artist who spent his days creating and who needed the tourists for his creations.

So he didn’t jump on the victim to cut him into pieces, he would really silently move behind them before they could strike again, and then slice their throat open.

He would take a lot of pleasure to kill them and he would make sure his movements were slow and precise so the tourist could have the time to feel the pain and to realise they were going to die before ineed dying.

Once done, he would let the body loudly fall and then his rage would be replaced right away by worry and tenderness for you.

He would be your special doctor and take care of you until you were fully healed. He would even make sure Bo left you alone for that time and he would ask Jonesy to stay with you when he couldn’t.

At night, he would cuddle you with extra love to make you forget he failed you.

Bo Sinclair

One of the victims had been able to get inside the house and had been smart enough to stay silent, so you didn’t notice them at first.

When you would, it would be too late already, and you got hit on the head.

You fell on the ground instantly, only half conscious anymore and unable to move.

Bo would have noticed that one of the tourists was heading to his house, but he was already busy with another one, so he simply hoped Vincent would protect you, like he always told his twin he needed to, when he couldn’t do it himself.

Unfortunately Vincent was in the House of Wax, also dealing with tourists.

Bo would finally run to the house, and would find you laying on the ground, the soon-to-be-dead tourist ready to beat you again.

Bo wouldn’t even need to think, he would act on pure instinct to protect you.

Even if he could be sometimes a little bit harsh with you, like he was with everybody including himself, he would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

You were part of the family and it meant no one was allowed to touch you.

If he had his gun on him, he would do an absolutely perfect headshot. If he didn’t have his gun, he would jump on the tourists and beat them with his bare hands until their head would be smashed and his own knuckles bleeding and hurt.

Once the tourist would be dead, his whole attention would be on you. He would place you on the couch and look after you before finishing off the killing.

When he would be back home, with Vincent, you could hear him yelling at his twin for having let anything happen to you.

And while checking on you, he would also be pissed at you for not having been more careful.

But you knew the man had just been very worried to lose you.

And at night, he would hug you even closer than usual.

ChromeSkull

Jesse was always proud to believe he was in control, especially when it was about killing or about you.

You were his, and he needed to make sure you were fine, hence he had settled cameras inside your shared house so he could keep an eye on you when he was away.

It was how he saw a man getting inside his place and attacking you; you were an easy target to get after Jesse; he should have seen that coming.

No matter what he would be doing, he would let go of it right away, even if it was a killing. (If that was a killing, he would throw the victim in his car trunk to deal with later).

In no time he would be back home, and ready to slaughter whoever dared to touch you.

His knives would be already ready to strike as he went right where you and your aggressor were, with the same violent cold rage that Michael could have.

For once, he wouldn’t play, he wouldn’t torture, he wouldn’t even try to understand who this person was, he would just kill as roughly and painfully as possible, because someone who hurt you just couldn’t continue to live in the same world as you.

Once the killing would be done, he would then carry you somewhere comfortable and take care of you obsessively.

Until you would be fully healed, he wouldn’t let you leave your bed and he would threaten to tie you up there if it meant you stopped fighting his will.

His paranoia would have no limit after that event, and he probably would insist for the two of you to move out somewhere else, more secured.

There was also no way you would ever leave the house after this and you would live like his personal little doll, all safe and sound in a golden prison.

No need to say that no one else ever touched you again, as Jesse would kill whoever even pronounced your name his way.

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

4K notes · View notes

themotherofhorses · 1 year

Text

masterlist | part one

Aemond Targaryen, who needs to be held back by Ser Criston Cole, as well as two additional kingsguards, when he confronts his mother. The prince yells and screams and demands answers, all but brandishing his own blade. But Alicent Hightower just stares at him with the same face she wore when he was ten and still dragonless and stubborn and constantly around the beasts. Her lips twist in a frown as she lets out a heavy sigh.

“My dear son, you should have known that this was going to happen. Did you really believe that I allowed you to marry the wretched girl for love? The same girl whom you suffered such terrible abuse at the hands of?” She shakes her head, “In the animal world, pray tell me which beasts are the ones most feared by men. Mothers. The princess would have been wise to remember that the very moment she rooted herself within our family.”

Noticing her son’s face, she soon adds, “But the debt has been paid now, and it is my promise to you that she will be left alone.”

He cannot do anything, he realizes, when his eye meets Ser Cole’s. He cannot avenge his wife or their lost child, no matter how desperately he wishes to. His mother remains the Queen Dowager, and to inflict such harm on her very being is a death sentence, and the prince cannot risk such foolishness and idiocy when his wife still needs him during her recovery.

With a venomous glare thrown her way, he leaves the room, but not without his mother making one final remark.

“And Aemond, my love, I am sorry about the babe. Would you believe me if I said that it was not my intention for her to lose it? We tried to save it, truly.”

He chooses not to answer.

Aemond Targaryen, who finds himself a pathetic witness as his dear wife grows into a shell of the young woman she once was. No longer does her lips curl into that bright smile that could rival the sun above, nor does she fling herself into his arms and kisses his face and neck and knuckles while declaring how much she loves and adores him.

Instead, she flinches whenever he nears and casts her lone eye downward, refusing to meet his gaze as if a lowborn girl. She refers to him as his royal titles only, and never the ones he gained when he became her husband and lover. When he kneels before her to change the bandages each morning and evening, and daubing the wound with the ointment the maesters provided him with, she mumbles out apologies, and the quietest begs for his mercy and forgiveness.

He never thought it was possible, but this pains him more than when she slashed his eye out all those years ago.

When it is all done, he pulls her to his chest and rocks her back and forth as if she was a new babe in the world. “My darling wife,” he mutters into her silver hairline, “My sweet girl. Oh, my beautiful girl. I will never forgive myself for leaving you behind that day. Forgive your damned husband, my love. Forgive me, I beg of you.”

He is met with only silence.

Aemond Targaryen, who has not spoken to his mother in weeks. It is a refusal on his part, despite Alicent making her own attempts, having lost her favored child. The hours he does not spend by his wife’s side, he is with his older sister in the royal playroom, watching his niece and nephews play with their toys on the floor. It makes him think about his own child and what could’ve been. A pretty babe, perhaps, with silver hair and violet eyes, no doubt of the golden blood of Old Valyria. He wonders if there ever will be another chance.

“She told her that there was never any love for her.”

He turns his head to his sister, who has paused her embroidery to look at him with sad eyes.

“Mother, she had told our niece that you never did love her. That her losing the eye was meant from the beginning, and that you knew about it, and kept up your part so it could eventually happen.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it was never like that. Yes, I will admit, I wanted revenge, and yes, I did hate her for what she did to me when we were both children, but all that was before I learned how good she was. How sweet and gentle and loving. My sweet girl, my princess, she gave me all the love in the world. She-” he feels his chest tighten greatly, leaving him heaving out short gasps and wheezes, “I love her. I love her more than she could possibly know. I never…I never wanted this. I love her. I love her so much,” and he tries his best to blink away the tears.

Helaena scoots herself closer and wraps gentle arms around both his shoulders, drawing him close. And when he cries into her neck, she whispers in his ear, “An eye for an eye, a son for a son. When the war is won, all will be good and done.”

Aemond Targaryen, who enters his chamber to find the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen seated on the bed, cradling his young wife to her chest. Through the muffled weeps, he could hear her talking to her youngest granddaughter, trying to coax out a response from the girl. When she fails to do so, the woman flattens her forehead against hers and tells her, “You do not dare leave me, my child, do you hear me? I have lost both my children; I will not lose you either.”

“Let us take her to Dragonstone, then,” he says, making his presence known. “I agree that she should be with her family. Perhaps being there will help her spirit.”

Rhaenys shakes her head with a broken chuckle. “Ah, Aemond One Eye. You must be a proud man, having gotten your revenge, it seems, as my grandchild is now without her eye.” She is gentle when laying the princess back down on the bed before standing up to face him. “Tell me, does this make you feel good? Better about yourself? More of a man, now that your wife matches you?”

His mouth twists in rage, but he is quick to bite down his tongue. “She was pregnant,” he chooses to say instead, watching as her eyes widen at his words. “The maesters believed the babe to have been a boy, and I was so excited to finally be a father. Your granddaughter, my wife, she was the prettiest sight, such that made me fall in love with her more every single day that passed.”

“You loved her so much, you claim, yet you still maimed her.”

“No. It was not I who did this. You must believe me, Princess Rhaenys.”

“Then pray tell who it was?”

“My mother.” He sees the look on her face, and the way her mouth flattens into a tight line. “She had sent me to the North, to the Starks for business, so that I would be unable to stop her. When I returned, it had been done, and our child long gone. I wish for nothing but vengeance now.”

Maybe she believes him; maybe she does not. But he knows that Rhaenys will take her away from him, back to her home at Dragonstone, and will very likely deny him the right to follow them, despite him being her husband. He just cannot accept the thought of being separated from her, the love of his life, no matter how selfish that might sound. He glances at his wife where she rests, with her good eye watching the two of them. Such little life left in her, he sees, and he knows that keeping her here would be considered cruelty on his part.

“Her mother misses her very much, and when she learns of the abuse her only daughter has faced while here at the Keep, there will be a war to be fought. You realize that, right, Prince Aemond? Will you be ready for it?”

He knows that, but it is not the war’s responsibility- nor anyone else’s- to avenge his wife and child but his own. It is why he decides to help the Princess Rhaenys sneak out of the Keep with his wife when nighttime arrives, asking her to hand his sweet girl over to his older sister, her mother, so that the maesters there will tend to her.

With a final kiss pressed against her lips, he bids her a goodbye, and promises a fond reunion when everything has been settled.

Before they leave, his wife brushes her hand against his. It is the ever most gentle touch possible, but enough to garner his attention towards her.

“I love you, husband,” she smiles. “And thank you. Come home to me, please, for I’ll be waiting for you.”

Aemond Targaryen, who later sits near his siblings when their grandsire and mother receive a raven from Dragonstone, carrying the Princess Rhaenyra’s response to her daughter’s mutilation:

“An eye for an eye, a son for a son. My daughter and her babe shall be avenged.”

notes: show of hands for part three?

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #alicent hightower #rhaenys targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd drabbles #vic writes 🧸

1K notes · View notes

angelwithdemonictendencies · 11 months

Text

is it possible that just yesterday your name was not the shape of all my exhales; how could a room without you not be empty?

jh86 x reader: it’s a billet house situation.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it’s honestly not even thaaaaaat bad), masturbation, oral sex (f on m), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), praise, way too much whimpering, more tension than actual smut (you guys know how i operate), yes the tooth is addressed, idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites! thank you endlessly for your patience! here we are, with another story about the (newly) toothless wonder that makes him out to be a stuttering, blushing, whimpering mess. as is typical for my jh86 stories, you have all the power (as you do in real life). and, since i always get a little influx of hate whenever i post for jh86, please remember that whenever anyone shares a bit of writing with you, they are putting a part of themselves entirely at your mercy, so act accordingly (i.e. with kindness). i truly appreciate your encouragement and messages and love so genuinely, you have no idea. if some of the details seem a little threadbare here, please don’t look too closely - i know the premise is a bit far-fetched. regardless, the next time i emerge from my cave of teeth, i will bring an offering of either mt19 (welcome, newbie) or am34 (hi, angel), depending on for whom the muses give me more inspiration. anyways, sending so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks even now. see you soon.

you knew your parents had becomes a billet family while you were away at school, although you really didn’t know what that meant. to you, their new arrangement, their good deed, their latest endeavor now that they were empty-nesters, didn’t really involve you or your break.

a young hockey player was staying with them so he didn’t have to live on his own, they had explained. yeah, sure, you had responded, expecting a twelve-year-old prodigy to be living in your house when you arrived home for your extended break. you could be nice to a kid for a while and make an extra portion during lunch. you barely gave it a second thought.

however, when you lugged your suitcases through the door on that first day, there was no twelve-year old prodigy to be found. instead, when you set your bags down with a huff, you looked up to find a twenty-something staring at you from the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hand.

he stood there, frozen, almost theatrically still, his eyes holding yours for several seconds as you swiped a loose lock of hair from your face. you straightened up, stretching your back to its full extension, before raising a brow at his odd reaction, or lack thereof.

“uh, hello?” you said, a slight smile gracing one side of your mouth.

he seemed to lose his grip on his bowl at the sound of your voice, dropping it only slightly before fumbling to grasp it again, the spoon making a clattering noise.

“y-yeah, hi,” he said. you felt your smile grow as he flushed a delicate shade of pink. he cleared his throat before speaking again. “they mentioned you’d be coming home.”

you took in his face. his long, soft-looking hair that framed his heart shaped face, his pouty, full lips, the gentle slope of his nose, the surprisingly sharp angle of his jaw.

he was the definition of pretty. and, if you could tell anything from this one interaction, he was pretty and nervous, your favorite combination. fun.

you cocked your head to the side, looked at him, still down the hall, noticed his grip, comically firm around his bowl so as not to drop it again. “so, roomie, do you take the right or left side of the bed?”

your smile only intensified as you watched his brow furrow, his mouth stumble over his words, panic flood his eyes. you let him trip over himself for only a second longer, not wanting to be cruel. too cruel, at least.

finally, you waved him off playfully. “i’m kidding. my room’s down the hall from the guest room, if you need anything.” his little nervous laugh made your chest sing, a bit. “what’s your name?” you asked as you took hold of your bags, began to haul them up the stairs.

“right,” he said, voice shaking only slightly. “it’s jack. my name’s jack.”

you grinned, the action making its way into your voice as you tested out the name on your tongue. you noticed his flush grow deeper, more personal, saw something shine across his gaze at his name in your tone, promising in a lovely kind of way.

you told him your name when he asked, gave him a final lazy once-over. “your spoon’s upside-down, jack,” you called through a clenched grin, bit your lip when you heard him mutter something and the tell-tale sound of a spoon against a bowl.

quickly, you realized that your break had just gotten significantly more interesting.

the one downside, though, came when your parents told you that you would be sharing your car with the newest member of the house.

it wouldn’t be too bad, they said, as he would be practicing or playing for most of the day at the rink just a couple streets down, and if you needed the car, you could always drop him off.

sure, fine, you thought, you could share. you could try not to make him too nervous, even if it was fun. of course, you could play nice.

so, this was you, playing nice, driving him to practice the next day.

after he had settled into the passenger seat, you put your hand on the back of his headrest and turned your body so that you could reverse the car out of the driveway.

his gaze slid to your neck briefly before he flushed, only just.

“so,” you began as you pulled away from your house, facing forward again, “are you any good?”

“what?” he asked, suddenly more bashful, looking down, fidgeting like he didn’t know where to put his hands.

you smiled, kept your eyes on the road. “at hockey, jack. are you any good at hockey?”

he shook his head, let out a light laugh, the melody of which made you scrunch up your nose slightly. he brought a hand to absentmindedly scratch the back of his neck. to your surprise, his mouth actually ticked up into a soft smirk, an expression that was completely new to you.

“yeah, i’m pretty good at hockey, i think,” he replied, his voice probably as stable and confident as you had ever heard it.

you nodded. “huh,” you said, “i wouldn’t have guessed it.”

he turned to face you, looking confused, even a little hurt, his gaze suddenly shimmery with something. “what? why?”

you felt a smirk creep onto your own face as you pulled into the parking lot of the rink. “oh, i don’t know,” you replied with a shrug. “you’re a little too pretty, i guess,” you finished as you put the car in park, turning to him now that you were stopped. “but you must be used to people saying that.”

he scratched his neck again, eyes anywhere but yours. “y-yeah,” he finally mustered. “used to it, yeah.” he fumbled for the door handle, finally opened it. “you’ll, uh, you’ll pick me up at 3?”

you couldn’t help but bite your lip at his reaction. “you told me a teammate was driving you home.”

“yup, i did,” he said, slowly, as if running the words over in his head, nodding as he grabbed his things, hiding his pink face from you. “i did say that. so i’ll see you at home then.”

“see you at home, jack,” you finished as he shut the door, watched him mumble something to himself and shake his head as you drove away.

what a fun addition to your break, you thought, typically so filled with work and school preparation. what a meaningless and harmless distraction from the work you needed to do.

so, when you got home, you spent a large chunk of time chipping away at that work. when you finished, though, you thought you’d take advantage of the sunshine and lay out for a bit, maybe get some color.

you couldn’t have been outside, reading in your bikini, for more than twenty minutes when a car pulled into your driveway.

you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head to see jack climbing out of the passenger seat, talking to the driver, presumably one of his teammates, before the driver turned his head to look at you. his mouth ticked up in an arrogant smirk as his gaze rolled down your body.

you could have rolled your eyes. “hey, handsome,” you said instead, pushing yourself up and onto your side.

jack stilled for a second before continuing to take his bags out of the trunk.

“hi, beautiful,” his teammate said. “don’t tell me hughesy’s been keeping you a secret, hm?”

you laughed, false and sugary like a diet soda, tilted your head back so your hair would fall to expose your collarbones.

“hughesy couldn’t keep me anywhere if he tried,” you responded, watching jack’s face pale. you smiled at him as he approached. “jack, did you tell your teammate he’s welcome to stay for dinner?”

jack looked at you, searched your eyes for a moment. there was something steely in his. something you liked, something that sparked some heat between you.

his teammate laughed like he knew something you didn’t, breaking the tension. “another time, beautiful,” he called from the driver’s seat, beginning to pull away.

you gave him a pout. “i’ll hold you to it,” you flirted, only turning to jack once the car was completely gone. “jack, before you go in, could you put some sunscreen on my back?”

he fixed you with a look, uncharacteristically serious. his gaze hovered on your chest for a second before meeting your eyes again. he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, gave a slight shake of his head. “i’m not doing that.”

you furrowed your brow. “why not? no one else is home.”

“too bad,” he said, continuing inside.

you rolled your eyes at him, but began to fold up your towel. “fine. if i make dinner, will you tell me about practice?”

there was a pause.

“yeah, sure,” came the response, almost uncertain in tone, like he thought this must be some kind of trick. like no one had asked him that before, as if no one had ever wanted to know.

and as much as you enjoyed playing with him, you actually wanted to get to know him, too.

so, that night, and each night following, this became part of the routine. you’d make an extra portion for dinner, and as you sat together and ate, you’d ask questions about his practice, his day, which would lead to answers to unspoken questions about his life, his person.

“why hockey?” you might ask, to which he would rattle off some media trained answer, to which you would raise your brow in doubt. only then would he give you some real answer about falling in love with the feeling of it, about feeling closer to his family because of it, eventually hinting to an insecurity that he didn’t know how to do anything else.

and he might ask about school, to which you would say what you were studying, to which he would shoot you a doubtful look. only then would you give some real answer about wanting to do something tangible, something that no one could say was pointless, eventually hinting at an insecurity that your work might eventually mean nothing.

harmless, you thought, meaningless. that’s what this was. fun.

meaningless, how eventually you wouldn’t have to tell him you were heading to the car, how you would just know he would be there in the mornings to go to practice. meaningless, how after dinner, he would wash the dishes and you would dry them. meaningless, how each day he would reveal a bit more of himself to you, and you would grant him the same privilege.

until you knew him like he was one of your best friends, and he knew you as good as anyone.

the more you learned about him, and the more you shared, the less meaningless it felt, the more comfortable it all felt.

sometimes it even felt like jack was most comfortable when you were explicitly trying to make him uncomfortable.

you expected the blush, the stammering, you found a type of peace in it, just as he found peace in your innuendos, your comments, your shameless flirting, even if he thought you were only joking, only playing around.

even if he thought you couldn’t possibly want him so explicitly, so clearly. when had anything ever been so straightforward?

so he decided you were toying with him, however disheartening the idea was.

each day, it seemed, a different teammate would drive him home, and more often than not, you would be tanning in the yard.

and his usual blushing, stuttering reaction slowly melted and hardened into a gaze full of desire, poorly veiled.

his ever-present flush was still there, of course, but your focus had shifted to the way his chest would rise and fall, the way his eyes would linger on the elegant slope of your shoulders, settle in the pockets of your collarbones, drip down your legs, so reluctant to glide back up to your eyes again.

and you would ask him to put sunscreen on your back, and he would say no, each time looking more and more confused as to why he was refusing.

the first time his mask of nonchalance truly broke came only a couple weeks in, the day when the teammate who had driven him home on that first day eventually drove him home again.

and there you where, in practically the same place, same state as that first day. with maybe the slightest bit more of a motivation to bring jack to a stumbling, stuttering mess.

you were about to open your mouth, say something like hi, again, handsome, but you didn’t even get the chance to.

as soon as jack got out of the car, he made eye contact with you. there was electricity there, a spark you felt in your bones. “hi, baby,” he said, his voice so sweet and doting your stomach actually dropped at how genuine he sounded. but he couldn’t mean it, right? what was he playing at?

so you shot him a look, scrunched up your nose, to which he sent you a warning glance. you rolled your eyes, caught the smirk his teammate sent his way.

“need some help with your sunscreen?” jack offered as he walked up to you, making you pause. you took your sunglasses off of your head and set them down.

you met his gaze again, tried to figure out his angle. when you couldn’t, you simply stood up, handed him the bottle, gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and faced away from him. “is your friend staying for dinner?” you asked, more so to the driver than to jack.

the man in the car shook his head. “sorry, beautiful. i wouldn’t want to intrude on date night.”

and suddenly jack’s hands were on you, as close as he had ever been, the chill of the lotion along with the heat of his palms sending a shiver down your spine. despite yourself, your words came out breathy. “date night. right,” you said, trying not to focus on the callused texture of his hands as they worked your shoulders, the plane of your back, up to your neck.

you barely noticed when the car pulled away, could have moaned at how good his touch felt. even when he was done, he kept his hands on you still, one on either side of your waist. you could feel his breath on your neck, suddenly remembered who he was, the weirdness of this whole interaction.

you turned around to face him, hardened any desire into something you could use. something like a weapon. you placed both of your hands on his chest. “feeling touchy today, hm?” you asked, looking up at him, willing innocence and intrigue into your eyes.

and just like that, he was there, again, the jack that you knew. a flush crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes darted around your face as he searched for words.

“‘m sorry, baby, just didn’t want him to think-”

you cocked a brow. “didn’t want him to think what?” you prompted, ignoring the fact that he was still calling you baby, like some kind of community theatre actor unwilling to come out of a role. you weren’t acting.

he tilted his head back, looked to the sky for a moment. “it’s just that,” he looked back at you. “he’s, you know, just-”

you nodded. “what, pretty boy?” you asked, raised a hand to push a damp lock of hair from his face, watched his blush deepen with a vengeance, his eyes cloud with something darker.

he seemed to forget what he was saying completely, the combination of your words and your touch on his face like a sedative.

and you had a feeling that the words that were caught in his throat were something along the lines of he’s not me. but, you figured, if he wasn’t going to tell you that, that was on him. so, instead of kissing him, like you so wanted to, you just gave a disappointed shake of your head, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip before heading inside to shower away the sunscreen you didn’t need, had never needed.

your dinners were common ground, a momentarily truce, before you would go back to your endless quest to see that flush, and he would return to his endeavor of trying to hide it, to hide what you were doing to him, which was only getting more challenging.

little did he know, it was only getting harder for you to control yourself, too. especially when you would be in your room, with the door open, and he would walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

and you would try not to look, try not to stare at the way his hips just barely held up the towel, or how his chest gleamed in the most inviting way.

it became harder still when you realized he was talking to you.

“hm?” you asked, forcing your gaze up to his eyes.

“said i used your body wash, baby, figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. your eyes followed the motion.

“why?” you asked, brow furrowed. “yours is in there, no?”

his smile was small, bashful. you got up, slowly walked over to where he stood. “like the smell of yours more,” he admitted, looking down.

“and you’re sure it’s mine?” you placed a hand on his bare shoulder, pushed yourself up so your face was aligned with the space between his neck and collarbone, inhaled, felt a shiver start just under your touch. “nevermind,” you said, recognizing the flowery scent. “it’s mine.”

you looked up to meet his eyes, not taking your hand off of him just yet. “’s okay, then?” he asked, that beautiful blush spreading down his neck.

you hummed, slowly pulled your hand off of his shoulder. “if you like it so much,” you said with a shrug, walking back into your room, “feel free.” so you left him, breathless, standing in the hallway. you, too, had to catch your breath, though, when you shut your door behind you and looked down at your hand, seemingly scorching from resting on his bare skin for so long. you could still feel him underneath you, in an instant developing a craving to feel more of him, feel all of him.

still, you understood that you both couldn’t dance around each other forever, that at some point the spell would shatter like a china teacup on the floor. and that’s exactly what it felt like when he asked you if it was okay that the car would be back later than usual tonight as you washed and dried the dishes together. you had already agreed that he would drive himself back from his game, but, apparently, he had plans after the game, too.

“sure,” you said instinctively. “for what?”

something curious burned alight in his eyes as he said, “just seeing a friend, should be back later tonight.”

and something green burned alight in your stomach as you immediately became alert. you knew a friend. you had several a friends. “yeah?” you asked. “who?” you hated the way your voice, usually so steady and confident, took on only the slightest of creaks at the end of your question. you felt like it exposed you entirely.

he paused, searching your eyes for a moment before looking down again. “just some girl,” was his answer, almost uncertain, continuing to run a rag over a glass.

you felt that feeling bubble up inside of you, hot, blistering jealousy, but also pure anger. how could he not love this game as much as you did? how could he end it, throw the board away so easily?

but you just gave a slight nod, refusing to look at him.

unfortunately, you realized, you two had grown close enough that he knew you, truly and deeply, and of course he would be able to tell that something was off.

“what?” he asked, turning to you. “what is it?”

you shook your head. “nothing. hope you have fun.” but your voice came out short, snappy, sort of mean.

he furrowed his brow. “wait, what?” he said. “what is this?” he gestured to your general presence, to which you put down the plate in your hands and sighed, finally looking at him fully.

you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

whatever he saw in your eyes made the slightest of pouts grace his lips. he gave a nod of understanding. “oh,” he began, “you’re jealous.”

you huffed. “i am not.”

“you are. i know you are, baby.” something flashed briefly through his gaze, making his pout deepen. “what, so you’re allowed to fuck around, but i’m not? how does that work?”

fire roared inside of you as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, brought him down to your level. “fuck around? is that what you think i’m doing?” you watched him swallow, swore you could feel his heartbeat under your hand, willed pity into your eyes and shook your head. “oh, sweetheart,” you tsked, “thought you were smarter than that.”

you let yourself look at his lips one more time before letting go, turning to walk away.

“go ahead and fuck around, if you want to,” you called over your shoulder. “but i don’t think you want to.”

and you must have been right, because after the game, at the time you had originally expected, you heard the car in the driveway, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

you heard him come up the stairs, close the door behind him, settle into his room. and you left him to whatever he was doing, for a while, maybe an hour or two. until you decided you were going to take a shower.

you walked out into the hallway, a towel wrapped around you, and began to make your way to the bathroom. and you would have made it there, if you hadn’t been stopped, completely frozen, by the soft noises coming from behind jack’s bedroom door.

noises that sounded like stifled, breathy moans, like whimpers trying so desperately to be hidden.

you inched closer to the door, listened through the wood, although your suspicions were all but absolutely confirmed already.

your throat began to tighten as the noises became clearer, less controlled, and if you didn’t know better you thought they could have been mistaken for teary sobs, if not for the undeniable baseline of pleasure and desperation that threaded all the noises together.

and you knew it was normal, for a young man to touch himself, and you told yourself that you would have walked away, stalked back to your room, completely unsatisfied.

but when he clearly moaned out, “fuck, baby, like that,” the sound bursting out of him like a confession, you knew you weren’t going back to your room. not when he had called for you, had begged for you, was so obviously thinking of you.

so you opened his door, met his hooded gaze immediately, saw alarm and shame flash through his eyes, watched his hands fumble for his blankets in an attempt to cover himself up, to which you could have scoffed.

“no, no,” you cooed, approaching the side of his bed. “‘s okay, baby.” you relished in the way that beautiful blush of his blossomed like a peony in late spring, full and all-consuming, making him look so deliciously vulnerable.

his exhale was shaky, a rockslide of emotion. “baby, you weren’t s‘posed to-” he didn’t finish his thought. “i didn’t mean to-” another breath. “tried to be quiet, i swear.”

as he spoke, though, you squinted at his mouth, noticed how swollen his top lip was, finally recognized that his front tooth had chipped, seemingly right in half.

you gingerly took his jaw in one hand, tilted your head, concern lacing your voice. “does it hurt?” you asked, mesmerized by him, the physical evidence that he was alive, that he could hurt, and could still desire you so blatantly.

his eyes, before glazed over, took a moment before understanding filled them. he immediately looked down, tried to remove himself from your touch. “not anymore,” he mumbled. “know it looks bad-”

you scoffed at this, traced your thumb along his lip, felt the swell and heat travel through your body. “you think it looks bad?” he gave a bashful nod, setting your blood ablaze. “oh, jack,” you said, shaking your head, “you could never be anything but pretty.”

and he looked at you like he would endure all the pain in the world, if only so you would tell him he looked beautiful while doing so. you smiled at how he glowed under your praise, smiled into his lips as they met yours in a kiss that felt much too long overdue, and yet felt so familiar, almost nostalgic. he kissed you with a hunger that surprised you, given the tenderness of his lip, but he moaned into your mouth, so you figured he didn’t mind too terribly. you ran your tongue along his teeth, your fingertips dancing along his jawline before pulling back, only just.

after a breath, heavy with want, you sunk to your knees beside his bed, looked up at him, took one of his hands in your own. your stomach stirred at how he immediately clutched back. “let me help you, hm? i’ll make you feel so good, jack, i promise.” you tried to dull the teasing in your tone. “know you were thinking ‘bout me, before.” your voice became a rasp at the memory. “when you were touching yourself, yeah?”

he blushed, but shifted towards the edge of the bed, closer to you, his swallow rough and audible. he squeezed your hand in a silent plea. “please, can i touch you, pretty boy?” you asked. “let me suck you off, hm?”

he nodded, a whimpered “please?” escaping him as you pushed his covers aside, spat into your hand and took him into your grip, hot and hard under your touch, the result of weeks of pent up lust, fantasies he had assumed dead suddenly being jerked awake. you peered up at him, wanting to see every reaction he could give you.

as soon as you touched him he squinted his eyes shut, lost in the sensation of you, here, exactly as he had imagined you so many times. his grip on your hand tightened when you took him in your mouth, felt the weight of him, the weight of his longing, through your entire body.

“fuck, baby,” he cried, using his other hand to gather your hair in a fist, as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock before teasing the tip. “your mouth feels so good.” his voice was a shudder as you hummed around him, making him moan deeper.

he grew harder in your mouth as you hollowed out your cheeks, drew your head up and down, losing yourself in the rhythm of his breathing, tethered to this reality only by his hand on yours.

before you knew it, you could feel his thighs clench in telling as his exhales grew tight. “y-you need to stop, baby,” he whimpered, eyes glassy, “’m gonna cum if you don’t.” his voice was pleading.

you didn’t stop immediately, only looked up at him through your lashes, making him curse, his brow furrow. “please,” he begged, “don’t want to cum yet, baby, please.”

you thought for a moment, part of you wanting to feel him in your mouth for a little longer, but the part of you that wanted to know what he felt like inside of you won out in the end.

you reluctantly pulled up off of him, melted at the gratitude that mingled with the desire in his gaze. “what if i want you to cum?” you asked, rising from your knees, grinning when he pulled you on top of him.

“you first,” he said before kissing you again, bruising and potent with feeling. “need to feel you cum around me, baby.”

“yeah?” you said against his mouth. “is that what you were thinking about before i came in?”

he hummed a noise of affirmation. you bit your lip at his confession, plainly delighted at the reminder that he thought of you, that you occupied his mind the way he did yours.

you pushed his chest back, positioned yourself on top of him. “been wantin’ to fuck me, hm?”

you bit your lip again as you sunk down onto him, closed your eyes at the stretch. “so bad, baby,” he groaned, “so, so bad.” you both stayed completely still for a beat, basking in the feeling that you both had been craving for what felt like ages. you placed your hands on his stomach to ground yourself, felt his muscles clench underneath your palms as he grabbed at your hips, the warmth of his hands sending a shiver up to your neck.

“fuck,” you moaned, finally adjusted to the size of him, needing him to move, needed some release to the impossible tension inside of you. “please fuck me, jack. need you to.”

and of course he wanted nothing if not to do exactly as you asked. he bucked his hips up into you, creating an immediate rhythm as you rode him, meeting his every thrust. the rhythm was not perfect, but every slip up felt predestined, too, a reminder that you were both human. a reminder that even through imperfection, everything felt perfect solely because it was between him and you.

“you feel so perfect, baby,” he bit out. “fuck, can’t even tell you how good.”

you moaned at his words as he brought one of his hands to thumb at your clit, making you groan and clench around him, tilt your head back at the sensation.

he gave a series of especially deep, slow thrusts, making you bite back your moans, squeeze him harder.

“look so pretty, baby,” he said, breathy, barely audible, “so fucking pretty like this.”

you locked eyes with him, groaned at the look in his, completely focused on you, his flush, this time from exertion, not embarrassment. you felt yourself grow close, just there. he continued to tease your clit as you ground down on his cock.

“‘m so close, jack,” you cried out, “gonna make me cum, yeah? just like you’ve been wanting, hm?”

his thrusts grew erratic at the prospect, his breaths shallow. “please cum for me, baby,” he all but begged, “want to feel you. need to feel you cum on my cock, yeah?”

at his words, combined with every overwhelming sensation you were feeling, you felt that wave of pleasure finally crash, sweeping him up with you as he came, spurred on by you squeezing him so tightly, your nails clawing at his stomach.

you collapsed on top of him, both of his arms coming to wrap around you, holding you to his chest, where you could feel his inhales and exhales as if they were your own. a glistening sheen of sweat settled on both of you like a gloss as you laid together, such a raw and deep desire having finally been truly recognized.

you stayed quiet for a while, so utterly content to just exist in each other’s space. when the silence broke, you barely noticed.

“you really don’t mind my tooth?” he asked, his voice rough as he rubbed his thumb across your back.

you gave a drowsy smile, hummed, loved how his voice wasn’t shy, how he was growing so comfortable with you, even still. “i love it,” you said honestly. “looks hot.”

he rolled his eyes at you, flushed, to which you placed a gentle kiss on his chest, where the color started. “being serious,” you said, smiling. “besides,” you added, “i’ll love your mouth as long as you let me kiss it.”

he laughed at that, shaking his head, obviously pleased.

and how beautiful, to be the one to evoke such a reaction from him. to be the one he even cared to ask such a question to in the first place.

fin.

1K notes · View notes